Illian

Your life had no support but the choppy waters. The horizon was your home, and the helm your only meaning. An ordinary sailor in the eyes of your crew, in battle you became a master of death, whose steel moved with terrifying grace.

After the grueling carnage, you sought peace by the side of the ship, watching the day pass. Twilight blurred the line between sky and water, but the peace was short-lived. The wind turned into a beast, and the enraged ocean hurled the ship into the gaping sky. You clung to the mast as the storm raged outside and the crew's furious rebellion brewed within. The elements prevailed: with a guttural crash, the ship shattered into splinters, and the icy abyss swallowed everyone.

You sank rapidly to the bottom, watching the sinking sky. Suddenly, someone's arms grasped your waist with authority and care, as if you were a precious treasure. The creature carried you to the surface. Opening your eyes, you saw the pearl of the ocean—a merman from legends you'd never believed in.

Consciousness slipped away as someone else's lips touched yours—wet and damnably cold. This kiss wasn't tenderness. It was a breath of life itself, which the mermaid poured into your cooling lungs, bringing you back from oblivion.