Rafayel's has been all alone waiting for Enoria to comeback to him after her bride decided to sacrifice herself to save his dominion, the dried and dead seas.
This story reflects Rafayel waiting, his growth from a cold and stormy god of the seas unt...
The Human capital of the Southern Shore trembled, once full of opulence, now chaos and fear could be felt from everywhere.
In two weeks, many treasured Lemurians escaped from their tanks, tainting their captor's walls and floors in bloody crimson. More than fifteen noble houses were killed, and only two families managed to remain untouched and thankfully alive after their treasured Lemurian was stolen, having escaped without being seen at all. Noble houses, once revered, were in ruin—the blood of fifteen of them mingling with the dust of their homes.
It was known that The Lord of the Southern Shore was in a state of anxiety, as he paced the marble halls of his palace. The loss of the Merfolk reverberated through the corridors, a seismic shift in the delicate balance of Human power.
If the other Human capitals were to learn about their disastrous loss, it would undoubtedly shift the power dynamics and potentially lead to an attack on their land. The situation was even more dire as they still needed to find the root cause of all their merfolk's disappearances.
The core of this tragedy eluded them, it was an enigma wrapped in shadows. How had the Lemurians achieved the impossible? After the first attack, how had they infiltrated homes guarded by steel and suspicion? How had they moved through the city like ghosts, unseen and unheard? They needed to find whoever was responsible that had achieved something almost impossible... to attack homes that were heavily guarded, move through the city without being noticed, and exist under the watchful gaze of a city that was becoming increasingly vigilant and afraid.
The Lord knew that gaining time was essential, and they needed to act swiftly to restore order and calm their nobles and commoners alike.
And so, The Lord sought a weapon, a myth believed to offer ultimate power. He needed a tide-changer, a force capable of shifting the currents in this silent war of conquest between humanity and their unending search for riches and eternal life.
But where would he find it? The myth that started the Lemurian Crusades. In ancient texts? In forbidden rituals? Or perhaps in the eyes of a captive Lemurian, the one who unknownly to the Lord, had slipped through their fingers like water?
He called for the Lemurian Keepers and the Hunters, they needed to accelerate their searchings for that.
As the city burned with anxiety, The Lord vowed to uncover the truth of the attacks. For the Southern Shore was no longer a haven, it was a battleground, and the stakes were higher than any throne. The merfolk had vanished, leaving behind a riddle —a riddle that held the key to survival or annihilation.
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The moon hung low in the indigo sky, its silver glow casting elongated shadows across the castle. One night, after returning from wandering outside to explore and get intel to continue with his mission, Rafayel decided to get back early to the castle and rest for the night.
Now, the act of infiltration and saving his kin was harder than before, he had the spend hours wandering, spying, and exploring around the houses before entering and saving lives. In his wanderings, Rafayel listened to the hushed conversations of guards. He spied for the hidden entrances, the secret passages, the forgotten open windows, and possible tunnels to enter said houses. Rafayel explored the human hearts, desires, and fears of the guards, nobility, and common people. He mapped the castle's defenses, the guard rotations, and the weak points of the noble district.
