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Assistant: Title: Atlantis
        Author: Marinjjk Marinjjk 
        Chapter: 1/1 
        Summary: An Atlantis mermaid finds herself stranded in a different world and future, where she meets Rafayel, a Lemurian — a different kind of merfolk. As he helps her adjust to this unfamiliar dimension, romantic feelings forms between them. But feelings grow complicated, as Rafayel is still tied to an old soulmate from his past, making their connection harder to accept and act upon.
        Contents: Summary:
            
              An Atlantis mermaid finds herself stranded in a different world and future, where she meets Rafayel, a Lemurian — a different kind of merfolk. As he helps her adjust to this unfamiliar dimension, romantic feelings forms between them. But feelings grow complicated, as Rafayel is still tied to an old soulmate from his past, making their connection harder to accept and act upon.
            
        

        
  Notes:





    
      Just something I've had in my mind for a while now. How would Rafayel react to meeting a different kind of marine race similar to his? I still don't know how he would react to the Atlantis race, but here is a short fic inspired by that hehe
    




  





    
        
             The ocean murmurs at your feet, cool and restless, as you sit in the damp sand.
The sky above is unfamiliar — strange stars, strange constellations — but the sea... the sea hums with an old, half-forgotten lullaby you still recognize. It soothes the hollow ache inside your chest.You trail your fingers through the tide, reaching out with your mind, instinct leading the way.
A pair of clownfish dart close, drawn by your silent call. Their thoughts bubble against yours, bright and chaotic.
  (Who is this?)
(She smells weird.)
(She’s not food, right?)
You smile faintly. Not food. Just... a little lost.The smaller one circles you eagerly. Lost like that old crab who forgot his house and lived in a shoe?(The stinky shoe!) the other chimes in, scandalized.You bite back a laugh. No shoes involved. Hopefully.The clownfish bob around you, their minds flitting with silly concerns.
  (Maybe she’s deep-sea people. With the glow-b@tt!)
(No, she talks too much. Glow-b@tt people just stare.)
You shake your head, amused. I’m from Atlantis. A place a long, long way from here.The fish swirl thoughtfully.
  (Sounds made-up.)
(Probably fake.)
(She’s cold. Should we bring her a rock?)
You’re still smiling when it happens — a shift in the air, a ripple not from the tide, but from something else. Someone else.You glance up.A figure stands a few feet away, half-shadowed by the encroaching dusk.
Tall, elegant — but it’s the ashen purple hair that catches your eye first, ghostly in the fading light. Then his eyes — unreal, mesmerizing, the soft clash of blue and pink like sunrise bleeding into ocean mist.
His gaze is fixed not on the beach, but on you.The moment your eyes meet, it hits you — a deep, unshakable certainty, like the current pulling at your soul.
He’s from the sea.
Not Atlantis, no — his energy hums differently, older, quieter, as if shaped by different tides. But the connection is undeniable.
You recognize him, and more importantly — he recognizes you.His lips part slightly, as if realizing it at the same time. For a breathless second, the world narrows down to salt air, the crash of waves, and him."You’re talking to them," he says at last, voice low and curious, colored with a trace of wonder.You rise slowly to your feet, brushing the sand from your palms, your heart thudding hard against your ribs."They’re very chatty," you answer dryly, nodding toward the clownfish still swirling near your ankles. "But terrible at directions."A ghost of a smile flickers across his lips, gone almost as soon as it appears.
He steps closer, not hurried, but deliberate, as if approaching something sacred."You’re not from this ocean," he says, more statement than question."No," you murmur. "Atlantis."Something flickers in his eyes — not surprise, but understanding. Like he knows the name, knows the weight it carries."I’m Rafayel," he says, voice gentler now. "Of Lemuria."The name sparks something faint and old in your memory — another ancient city, another proud people of the deep. Different currents, same blood, long gone.You feel yourself relax without meaning to. A stranger he might be, but his presence hums like home."You’re far from everything you know," he continues, softer still.You nod, blinking against the sudden sting of tears. "Yeah. Very far."He holds out his hand — open, unthreatening. "Come. I’ll help you."You hesitate only for a heartbeat before slipping your fingers into his.
His skin is warm, grounding. Familiar in a way nothing else in this world has been.Behind you, the clownfish swirl in happy confusion:
  (She found a new fish! A tall, weird-colored fish!)
(Hope he has snacks.)
You bite down a laugh and let Rafayel lead you away from the lonely shore, into the unknown — but no longer alone. Rafayel’s home sits on an island overlooking Whitsand Bay, tucked between sand, rocks and shimmering pools of seawater that seem to glow faintly under the night sky.It isn’t a house whole mansion meant for royalty like back in the ancient Rome that still remembered the ebb and flow of tides.You notice the windows first: tall, arching things with panes glass, refracting the world into soft hue. He leads you inside, the salt-heavy breeze following at your heels. The air smells of the ocean, but warmer — seaweed and driftwood. You trail after him silently, damp curls clinging to your cheeks.He doesn’t ask anything at first, simply gestures toward a wide, couch draped with pillows. You sink onto it gratefully, your bones still heavy with exhaustion. Rafayel disappears into another room briefly, returning with a thick towel and a clean, oversized shirt that smells faintly of citrus and salt. "Here," he says, tossing them to you with casual grace. "You’ll catch cold if you sit there dripping like a lost clam." You snort softly. "Charming." He grins — boyish, unrepentant — and drops into a chair opposite you, sprawling with the easy confidence of someone who doesn't often hear the word no. You dry your hair as best you can, tugging the shirt on over your damp clothes. It's comically large, almost a dress on you, but warm and soft. Rafayel watches you with lazy curiosity, two-toned eyes glittering in the low light. "So..." he says, dragging the word out playfully. "Atlantis, huh?" You nod, wringing water from your hair. "I thought Atlanteans were a myth," he says, voice tilting with amusement. "All we heard were old songs. Stories about far oceans. About similar-tailed dreamers who danced with whales and built palaces from crystals." You lift an eyebrow at him. "Similar-tailed dreamers, huh?" He shrugs, utterly unbothered. "Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been ‘crabby tail bottom-dwellers.’" You laugh despite yourself. "We preferred 'architects of the deep.' But sure. Dreamers works." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fascination lighting his face."What was it like?" he asks, suddenly more serious. "Your Atlantis." You breathe in slowly, letting the memories bloom. "It was..." you search for words. "Bright. Deep. The city stretched down instead of up. Columns of pearl, gardens of swaying kelp. We lived alongside whales, healers, manta rays, creatures with names humans have long forgotten."You glance at him. "It’s different from Lemuria, isn’t it?" He smiles, small but genuine. "Lemuria was... wilder yet polished. Our cities floated like great cradles in the current. We shaped them from stone and light. We sang to the water, and it listened. Not to mention the flame of the sea god lighting up the Ocean.""Sea God's flames? That's intriguing. We used our prayer to God to light up the ocean. A chosen priest or pristess for that day praying till night. " Rafayel raised a brow. "No Sea God, ruler over your people?" He asked with intrest. "No, there is only one God in the whole existence that everyone including humans worship. A being no one can touch yet ask things and protection from."You both fall silent for a moment, the weight of centuries-dimension-long separation hanging between you like mist.Finally, he says, softer, "You and I. We have the same blood, but different dreams." You nod. "Different tides." The door chimes softly — a food delivery.Rafayel springs up with a kind of clumsy enthusiasm that doesn’t match his otherwise graceful presence, muttering something about "starving to death dramatically." He returns with trays of steaming food — rice, grilled fish, strange glowing fruits that look like stars trapped in crystal skins. He spreads everything on a low table, gesturing grandly for you to join him. You sit cross-legged across from him, your stomach rumbling loudly enough to make him snicker. "So," he says, mouth half-full already, "tell me about your world. Your... other dimension." You pause, spearing a piece of glowing fruit. "Well It’s still Earth. Just in 2025. No evols, no wandrers. Just... humans. And mermaids like me who hide among them." He frowns slightly. "No hunters either?" "None," you say. "No one out there trying to save you from cretures that want eat your face off because you looked at them funny." Rafayel blinks, then leans back, theatrically wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "Must be so boring." You laugh, the sound bubbling up naturally. "Sometimes, yeah. But we had wars. Pollution. Climate disasters. Different monsters in the form of diseases." He hums thoughtfully, tossing a grape-sized fruit into his mouth. "Different oceans. Different dangers." You nod. "I was living on land when... whatever happened pulled me here. I don’t even know how exept for a glowing light." He taps a thoughtful finger against his lower lip, his mismatched eyes gleaming. "Maybe it’s fate," he says lightly. "Maybe the seas were tired of keeping us apart." He joked. You snort into your food. "Or maybe some cosmic prankster was bored." Rafayel grins, sharp and mischievous, and lifts his glass in a mock-toast."To cosmic pranksters, then. And to new tides." You clink your cup against his, feeling — for the first time since arriving — a small flicker of hope kindle in your chest.Maybe this world wasn’t meant to be home.But maybe, just maybe, you weren’t meant to face it alone.  Later that evening, after the plates are cleared and the last drops of glowing fruit wine are sipped away, you and Rafayel sit across from each other by the wide window overlooking the restless bay. The moonlight spills across the floor, catching the edges of his ash-purple hair and the strange, shifting colors of his gaze. For a while, you simply listen to the ocean’s endless whispering, both reluctant to break the quiet. Then Rafayel speaks, voice low and careful."Among my people, we don't have... 'fated' mates. No soulstrings pulling us to each other. We choose. We build our bonds. And once we do... it's forever." You nod slowly. "It’s the same for Atlanteans. It’s not magic choosing for us. It’s us." He smiles a little, but it’s a bittersweet thing. "My mate..." he says, trailing off briefly. "I met her when I was still just a foolish boy. I had wandered to the surface — too far, too long — and nearly died. I couldn't yet shift into a full human form." His fingers curl loosely on his knee, the memory pulling at him. "And she found me. Saved me. A little human girl with bare feet and bright eyes. She gave me water. Stayed with me until I could slip back into the sea." You listen, heart aching. "Years later," Rafayel continues, voice raw, "we met again — as adults. She was brought to the shore as an offering, part of the old rites. A loyal sacrifice for the Sea God." He laughs quietly, bitterly."I wasn't the leader they expected. I didn’t want sacrifices. I wanted... her." You can feel the pain radiating off him like heat. "We chose each other. In a world that didn't want us to. She was my anchor. My light." A long, trembling breath. "But a curse took her from me. Before I could save her. And we met again only to end up in pain again and again in every lifetime." You sit there, stunned by the gravity of it — the weight he’s carried for centuries. After a while, you speak, your voice softer than the tide. "My story’s... similar." Rafayel turns to you, his mismatched gaze open, vulnerable. "Three hundred years ago, I met a human too. I was lost at sea during a terrible storm, wounded, barely able to swim. And there he was. A fisherman named Stefan." Your lips curl in a small, sad smile. "He guided me. Not knowing what I was. Not asking anything in return. Just... kindness." You inhale shakily. "When I recovered, I chose him. I chose to bond my heart to his." Rafayel’s expression softens even further. "We tried to bridge our worlds. I tried to live on land. He tried to join me in the sea. But neither world wanted us." You clench your hands in your lap. "Jealousy. Fear. Hate. My own people hunted him. His people feared me. When he tried to reach me one last time..."You close your eyes. "They killed him." The words hang heavy in the air. "In this life," you whisper, "I found him again. Alive. Smiling. But his heart belongs to another now." Rafayel leans forward, elbows on his knees, studying you with a gravity that feels ancient. "I waited three hundred years," you say. "I waited eight hundred," he answers. And for a moment, the centuries fall away, leaving only two hearts that had loved and lost and still, somehow, kept breathing. Rafayel lets out a slow, shuddering sigh and tilts his head back against the window frame. "I’m glad you’re here, Y/N," he says, voice hoarse with something too deep for words. "It's been... a long time since someone understood." You smile at him, weary but real. "Me too, Rafayel." Outside, the sea breathes around you, cradling the night — and for the first time in what feels like lifetimes, neither of you feels quite so alone. The next morning dawns bright and soft over Whitsand Bay, the sky a pale watercolor of pink and gold. You stand barefoot on the smooth stone veranda of Rafayel’s mansion, letting the warm breeze tug at your hair. In the distance, the sea glitters like a spilled basket of diamonds. Rafayel approaches, already dressed lightly, a playful grin curving his mouth. "Come on," he says, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. "There's something I want to show you." Curious, you follow him down winding stone paths toward a private cove hidden from view by towering cliffs. The sand here is softer, whiter — untouched. Without hesitation, Rafayel steps into the surf. As the water reaches his hips, there’s a ripple — a shimmer — and then in an instant, his legs are gone, replaced by a long, powerful tail of deep, iridescent blue. It catches the light, glinting like sapphires and stormwater. You gasp softly, stunned despite yourself at the fluid beauty of it. Rafayel turns, floating effortlessly, hair drifting around him like smoke in the current. "You coming?" he calls with a teasing grin. You smile and step into the water, the ocean welcoming you like an old friend.As soon as you dive under, the transformation takes you — your legs shifting into a tail, scales flaring out in brilliant shades of pink and soft coral. When you break the surface, Rafayel is watching you — wide-eyed and openly fascinated. For a long moment, you just float there, marveling silently at one another.Your tails — so different in color, yet similar in texture, shape, and the delicate layering of the scales.Two children of the sea, meeting across centuries and oceans. You catch his eye, both of you instinctively understanding the unspoken rule: no touching.Tail touching was sacred — a bond of romance and soul-pledges. A line neither of you would cross lightly. Still, you swim a little closer, close enough to admire the way his scales catch the light like molten blue fire. "Your scales," Rafayel says finally, voice low and awed, "they shimmer like a sunrise." You laugh, sending tiny ripples across the water. "Yours look like the heart of a storm." He chuckles, flashing a grin that’s more boyish than godly. Then, with a flick of his powerful tail, he dives, motioning for you to follow. You plunge after him, the water cooling around you as you slip deeper. The ocean opens beneath you like a secret world, and soon, rising from the shadows, you see it: The ruins of Lemuria. Columns of white stone, broken but still proud, loom from the ocean floor. Gardens of coral weave around shattered temples. Faded mosaics glimmer under the silt, depicting ancient Lemurian myths you barely recognize. You swim side by side with Rafayel, silent, reverent. "This was our home," he says softly through the water, his voice carrying to you like a song."Before the world changed. Before we were forgotten." You trail your fingers along a crumbling wall, feeling the faint pulse of magic still sleeping within the stone. It feels... strangely familiar. Like a song you once knew in a dream. Rafayel watches you, something tender and aching in his eyes. Neither of you speaks much — words feel too small — but in the slow dance of light between the ruins, in the shared silence, something fragile begins to knit between you. A kinship born of water, memory, and the stubborn refusal to let your worlds die. You circle a great pillar together, and for the briefest heartbeat, your tails brush the same current — close but never touching — the ocean itself carrying the promise between you: Not yet. Not now. But someday, perhaps. When you finally break the surface hours later, the sun is high, and both of you are laughing breathlessly, lighter somehow, as if a small piece of your loneliness had been left behind among the ruins. ....You and Rafayel lie side by side on the smooth rocks, the sun drying the water from your skin. The ocean laps gently against the cove, the air smelling of salt, sunlight, and something older — something stirring.Rafayel props himself up on one elbow, watching the horizon thoughtfully. His ash-purple hair sticks to his forehead in messy, boyish curls."There’s something I want to show you," he says after a moment, voice low with an almost shy excitement.
"Something... no one else has seen in a very long time."You glance over at him, curious, and sit up as he rises gracefully to his feet.He leads you a little deeper inland, along a narrow trail worn into the cliffside, until you reach a hidden pool.
The water here is crystal clear — a deep turquoise — and so still it looks like a mirror.Ancient Lemurian runes are carved into the stones surrounding it, glowing faintly as Rafayel steps closer.He kneels by the pool, touching the surface lightly with his fingertips.
A soft, humming vibration fills the air — almost like a melody carried on the wind."This," Rafayel murmurs, "is the Heart Pool. It was sacred to the Lemurian kings and queens... to the singers and the dreamers."He glances back at you, a rare vulnerability in his mismatched eyes."We used to gather here. Sing the old songs. Songs that were said to call the ocean spirits... to remind the sea we were its children."You kneel opposite him, heart thudding.
You can feel the power here, ancient and deep — a heartbeat matching your own.Rafayel smiles at you — a real, unguarded smile — and begins to hum.At first, it’s just a low, simple sound, like the tide brushing the shore.
Then words, in a language half-forgotten even in your dreams, weave into the song.The melody rises and falls like the ocean itself — sorrow and hope braided into every note.You close your eyes without meaning to, letting the sound carry you.And then — something stirs inside you.An ancient memory, maybe, or something written in your very blood.
Before you can think, your own voice joins his — hesitant at first, then stronger.You know the words.
You don't know how — but you know them.Across the Heart Pool, Rafayel’s eyes widen slightly, a wonder dawning across his face.The pool between you begins to glow, soft and blue, pulsing with the rhythm of your joined voices.You sing together — not just a song, but a calling.
A reminder to the ocean, to the old world, that you are still here.When the last note fades into the air, the pool settles again — but the carvings on the stones glow more brightly, a deep, vibrant light.You and Rafayel just stare at each other, breathing hard, not from exertion — but from the sheer weight of what you’ve awakened."You..." Rafayel says, voice rough with awe, "you are kin of the sea. Truly."You smile, a little breathless yourself.
"Maybe some things... never die," you whisper.He laughs quietly, standing and offering you his hand to pull you up.When you take it, there’s a brief moment — a pulse of heat — where your fingers meet.It passes quickly, but you both feel it.Neither of you speaks of it.Not yet.Instead, you walk back toward the mansion side by side, the ancient song still humming under your skin, a secret promise between two souls the sea had never truly let go.  The next morning dawns crisp and clear, sunlight spilling through the wide glass windows of Rafayel’s mansion. You wake slowly in the guest room he prepared for you — a space filled with seashells, driftwood sculptures, and paintings so vivid they almost breathe. The air smells faintly of salt and paint. You stretch lazily, your muscles pleasantly sore from the long swim yesterday, and after dressing in soft borrowed clothes, you wander into the heart of the house. You find Rafayel already awake — barefoot, hair a rumpled halo around his head — standing in a vast, high-ceilinged studio overlooking the ocean. He’s in front of a massive blank canvas, brush in one hand, staring at it with the intensity of someone confronting a wild beast. At the sound of your footsteps, he glances back, offering a small, lopsided smile. "Morning, seashell," he teases gently, voice still husky from sleep. You grin. "Morning, seaweed." The nickname makes him laugh — a real, bright sound that you feel all the way to your bones. You step closer, looking at the canvas. "It’s been a while," he admits, voice quieter now. "Since I painted something... new." You tilt your head curiously. "You mean you haven't painted lately?" "I’ve painted," Rafayel says, rubbing the back of his neck, a little sheepish. "But not... from my heart. Not since—"He cuts himself off, but you understand.Not since the ache. Not since the loneliness became too loud. You move to the windowsill, sitting cross-legged, and simply watch him for a moment — the way the morning light catches the pink-blue shift of his irises, the restless energy in his hands. "Maybe," you say gently, "you were just waiting." "For what?" he asks, almost challenging — but there's a glimmer of hope in his voice. "For the tide to turn," you answer simply. He stares at you for a long moment. Then, something shifts in him — a softening, like thawing ice. Without another word, Rafayel dips his brush into a jar of vibrant blue paint and makes the first bold stroke across the canvas. And then another. And another. Colors bloom — blue, pink, gold — blending and crashing like waves in a storm.He paints quickly, almost feverishly, chasing something he can feel but not yet name. You sit quietly, not speaking, letting him create. Hours pass without you noticing. When Rafayel finally steps back, panting slightly, the canvas is alive with movement and light:A swirling dance of sea and sky — two shapes barely visible within it, like spirits weaving through the tides. One of them has hair like dark ink.The other, eyes like sunrise and sunset tangled together. You recognize yourself — and him — woven into the chaos and beauty of the ocean. Rafayel looks at the painting, then at you. "You," he says hoarsely, "you brought it back." You blink at him, surprised. "Brought what back?" He smiles — a smile so full of gratitude and something fragile you hardly dare breathe. "The part of me that still believes," he says quietly."Not in the pain and death of Lemuria, butIn the sea.In new songs.In second chances." You feel heat rise to your cheeks, but you don't look away. Instead, you rise and walk over, standing beside him, both of you staring at the canvas. The ocean outside the window whispers and sings — as if it, too, approves. And for a little while longer, you stay there, two artists in a house by the sea, creating something new from the broken pieces of yesterday.Later that afternoon, just as the golden light starts to spill low across the waves, the peace of the mansion is shattered by the sound of furious knocking. You and Rafayel both turn toward the front door, startled. Before Rafayel can even reach it, the door bursts open and a man storms inside — tall, sharply dressed in a wrinkled suit, his hair sticking up as if he’s been running his hands through it for hours. "Rafayel!" the man shouts, his voice high with exasperation. "Where have you been? I’ve been calling, messaging, sending smoke signals—" Rafayel winces dramatically. "Thomas, you're hurting my ears." "You’re hurting my career!" Thomas snaps back, waving a phone wildly in one hand. "You have an exhibition in three days and the press wants a statement! The sponsors want updates! The gallery is—" He cuts off mid-rant when he finally notices you standing a little awkwardly behind Rafayel. Thomas’s eyebrows shoot up. "And who," he demands, "is this?" Before Rafayel can answer, you step forward with a polite, amused smile. "I’m Y/N. New... friend." Thomas blinks, then straightens his jacket as if trying to regain some dignity. "Thomas Rivers," he says, offering his hand. "Long-suffering manager, professional babysitter, and miracle worker." You shake his hand, laughing. "You have my sympathy," you tease lightly. "He’s a handful." Thomas lets out a huge sigh of agreement, looking up at the ceiling as if praying for patience. "I like her," he announces. Rafayel mutters something under his breath you don’t catch — but it sounds suspiciously like "traitor." Thomas, meanwhile, has already started glancing around the studio — and his sharp eyes immediately catch on the large, half-finished painting you worked on earlier that morning when Rafayel encouraged you to try his supplies. "Wait—" Thomas strides over to it. "Who did this?" You flush a little. "I did." Thomas stares at it — an unfinished swirl of coral reefs and dreamlike skies, a wild softness captured in the brushstrokes. "This is good," he says seriously. "This is really good. Are you sure you’re not a professional?" You shrug, suddenly shy. "It’s just a hobby." Thomas shakes his head, turning back toward Rafayel with an accusing look."You’re hoarding all the talent out here on your secret island? Not fair." Rafayel, who had been unusually quiet through all of this, crosses his arms and scowls."She’s my guest," he says pointedly. Before the conversation can get more ridiculous, soft footsteps echo down the hallway. You turn — and there she is. A tall, striking woman in sleek tactical gear, radiating quiet confidence: MC. She walks toward you both briskly — and when her eyes meet yours, she falters. For a split second, she just stares. And then she flushes faintly. "Uh — hi," she says, awkwardly pushing a hand through her hair. "I’m MC. Rafayel’s... bodyguard." You shake her hand, amused by her sudden bashfulness. "I’m Y/N." MC’s mouth opens like she’s about to say something, then closes again. "You’re..." she blurts, then winces. "You’re really beautiful." Thomas lets out a soft, knowing chuckle.You laugh too, lightheartedly. "Thank you," you say warmly. "You’re very striking yourself." MC turns visibly pink and quickly pretends to check something on her communicator. That's when Rafayel strides over, his steps slow, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Well, well," Rafayel says, voice dripping with faux betrayal. "It seems my own bodyguard is conspiring against me." You arch an eyebrow at him, and he presses a hand dramatically over his heart. "First Thomas falls for your charms," Rafayel continues tragically, "and now you’re stealing my loyal protector." Thomas snorts.MC looks mortified. "I—I’m not stealing anything!" MC says quickly, backing up like she’s been accused of treason. You roll your eyes playfully. "You're ridiculous." "Am I wrong?" Rafayel says, grinning at you. You give him a look, but there's no real heat behind it — just a smile tugging at your lips. Thomas leans closer to you and says in a mock-conspiratorial whisper,"He does this. Makes everything a soap opera." You laugh, feeling strangely at ease — like you belong here, among these strange humans who have no idea of the deep currents swirling underneath. Only Rafayel knows. Only you know. A silent secret threaded between you, pulling tighter. As you exchange a look with Rafayel — playful, warm, a little electric — you catch the flicker of something more in his gaze. Not just amusement.Not just teasing. Something ancient and quietly reverent. But before you can dwell on it, Thomas claps his hands briskly. "Alright, break it up, lovebirds. We’ve got a gala to plan and way too little time." Rafayel groans loudly in protest.You laugh — and follow them deeper into the house, the late sun staining everything gold, the future unwritten but full of dangerous, beautiful possibilities.A few days after you settled into Rafayel’s mansion — days spent exploring sun-drenched beaches, marveling at relics of Lemuria, and getting used to this strange, beautiful new world — Rafayel cornered you early one morning, looking... wary. "Just a warning," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's coming." You frowned, half-awake. "Who?" Before he could answer, the front doors swung open with a musical chime — and a whirlwind of lavender and perfume swept into the room. Talia. She looked like she stepped straight out of a dream: long, lighter purple hair cascading in silky waves down her back, glowing amethyst eyes, a dramatic coat swirling behind her like a cape.She looked closer to Rafayel’s sister than his aunt, with an elegant yet mischievous air. "Darling!" she sang, crossing the room in three long strides and cupping your face in both her hands like she'd known you forever. "You're real!" You blinked, stunned. "Um—hello?" She beamed at you like you’d personally brought the sun. "I knew I had to meet you," Talia declared, her voice rich and operatic even when she was speaking. "Rafayel’s little secret from the sea!" "Talia," Rafayel growled warningly. Talia completely ignored him. She turned to him, practically vibrating with excitement. "Can I keep her?" Rafayel looked personally offended. "She’s not a stray cat!" "You have a whole island, don’t be stingy," Talia shot back, flipping her hair."I’ll take wonderful care of her. She can live with me in the city — I'll buy her a piano! And designer shoes! And she’ll be front-row at every opera performance!" You barely held in your laughter as Rafayel visibly fought the urge to scream. "No," he said firmly. "She's staying with me." Talia pouted — actually pouted — but dropped it quickly, looping her arm through yours like you'd been best friends for years. "Fine, fine," she said airily. "But I’m stealing her every chance I get." True to her word, Talia started sweeping you into an endless parade of activities:Shopping trips where she insisted you try on everything sparkling or flowingCooking days where she taught you strange Lemurian recipes (half of which involved far too much seaweed)Inviting you to her opera concerts where she always reserved the best seats and introduced you to everyone as "my beautiful niece." And Rafayel? He tagged along everywhere, grumbling the whole time like a sulky cat — but he never left your side. At the opera, he slouched next to you in a dark suit, muttering, "She never invites me to the afterparties," as Talia swanned around, dragging you from one glittering group to another. At the shops, he trailed behind you both carrying all the bags, complaining loudly,"She made me carry her shoes once — ONCE — and now I’m her personal butler." When Talia snuck you a sparkly necklace and clasped it around your neck, cooing how it matched your "mermaid aura," Rafayel scowled so hard the mirrors almost cracked. "You were never this nice to me," he grumbled under his breath as you admired the jewelry. Talia only sniffed, tossing her hair back. "I always wanted a niece," she said, planting a kiss on your cheek. "Nephews are so much trouble." You burst out laughing as Rafayel muttered a string of very un-godly words in Lemurian under his breath. Still, when you looked over at him later — Talia dazzling the crowd with her singing, you laughing with your arms full of gifts — you caught Rafayel watching you with something soft and fierce in his mismatched eyes. As much as he complained, he was happy.Maybe even... relieved. Because even after hundreds of lonely years, with you here now — his home didn’t feel quite so empty anymore.It happened a months later — after another glittering concert, after Talia had spent hours fussing over your hair and makeup and dragging you from one glamorous room to another. Now, the mansion was finally quiet. Rafayel stood alone on the wide balcony overlooking the moonlit ocean, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, the salty wind tugging at his ashen purple hair. Talia appeared beside him, barefoot and silent as a cat. For a long while, neither of them spoke. Then, in a voice too soft to be casual, Talia said,"You’re pulling away." Rafayel’s body tensed, but he didn’t turn to look at her. "From what?" Talia just gave him a look — the kind only family could get away with.Direct. Knowing. "From her," Talia said simply. "From your little bodyguard." Rafayel said nothing. His jaw flexed tightly. Talia exhaled, folding her arms. "I’m not blind, Rafayel," she said gently. "I see the way you look at her now. The way you lean closer without realizing. The way you smile differently." She didn’t have to say the name. You. "You’re wrong," Rafayel muttered hoarsely. "I’m just—protective. She’s... she’s not from here." Talia’s expression softened. "Exactly." At that, Rafayel finally turned — wary, a little defensive. Talia’s purple eyes gleamed under the stars. "You haven’t realized it yet," she said. "But the bond... it’s different with her." He frowned, still stubborn. Still loyal to a love that had stretched across centuries. But Talia pressed on. "Y/N is from another dimension, Rafayel. The rules of this world don’t chain her like they chain us. The soul ties you feel — to her and to MC — they aren’t the same strength anymore." Rafayel opened his mouth, but Talia held up a hand. "Every few centuries," she said, voice almost a whisper, "the world resets itself. To heal mistakes. To change bonds if they were forged through pain or regret. You and Y/N — you both made sacrifices you weren’t meant to make." Her gaze turned almost sad. "You gave the Sea God's Heart to MC," she said quietly. "Gave away your powers, your crown... and lost yourself, carried the guilt of losing our home." Rafayel flinched like the words physically hurt. "And Y/N... she told me she was a High Priestess. She was meant to heal her people, lead them. But she gave it all up for a human boy who was stolen from her." The ocean roared below them, fierce and wild. Talia’s voice dropped even lower, heavy with ancient wisdom. "That’s why the ties to your old mates are fading," she said. "Not because they weren’t real... but because they were born from sacrifice, from pain. Not true balance." She touched his shoulder, grounding him. "And that’s why you met her. Why you feel less alone when she's near. The world... the sea itself... gave you a second chance." For a moment, Rafayel said nothing. He just stared out at the endless black waters, chest rising and falling with the weight of it all. "I don’t want to betray her," he said hoarsely — and whether he meant MC or Y/N, even he didn’t seem to know anymore. Talia smiled, heartbreakingly kind. "You aren’t betraying anyone," she said. "You’re healing." The moonlight caught the first glint of tears in Rafayel’s strange, beautiful eyes — blue and pink, clashing and shimmering. He swiped a hand through his hair roughly and turned back to the ocean. Talia watched him for a moment longer — then, quietly, slipped away, leaving him alone under the stars. Left to wonder if maybe — just maybe — fate had not forsaken him after all. Maybe it had simply waited. Waited for her. You couldn’t sleep.The sea kept calling — a distant, aching hum beneath your skin, pulling you out of the heavy human-made bed and down the long marble halls of the mansion, bare feet silent against the cool floors.Without really thinking, you wandered outside.
The night was warm, the stars thick like spilled glitter across the velvet sky.Down by the beach, you saw a familiar figure standing where the tide kissed the sand.Rafayel.He looked... lost in thought. Hands shoved into his pockets, hair a wild mess from the salty wind, the pale glow of the moon making him seem almost unreal.For a moment, you just watched him, the thrum of your bond faint but there — a heartbeat you didn’t quite understand.Then you stepped closer.He turned before you could say anything, as if he’d already known you were there."You couldn’t sleep either?" His voice was softer than usual, rough around the edges.You shook your head, hugging yourself against the slight chill.Without thinking, Rafayel shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it around your shoulders.You blinked at him, surprised — it was warm from his body heat and smelled like salt and something rich and earthy you couldn't name."Thank you," you murmured, pulling it tighter.He ducked his head, almost shy.The two of you walked side by side along the shoreline, the wet sand cold under your toes, the sound of the waves wrapping you both in a cocoon of hush.For a while, neither of you spoke.But something was different.Rafayel kept glancing at you when he thought you weren't looking — little flashes of something raw and tender in his mismatched eyes.He stayed closer than usual too. His hand brushed yours once, accidentally — and he tensed immediately, like the touch startled even him.You felt it too: a strange flutter deep inside, almost electric."You know," he said suddenly, voice low, "I never really liked sharing the sea with anyone."You tilted your head at him, curious. "No?"He shook his head, staring out at the endless dark water."It's always been mine," he said. "Something no one could take from me."A pause. The wind caught his hair, whipping it across his forehead."But when you're here..."
He trailed off, frowning slightly, like the words didn't come easy."When you're here," he repeated more quietly, "it doesn't feel like I'm losing anything."You blinked, caught off-guard by the softness of it.It wasn't a confession.Not yet.But it was close.You smiled, a small, real thing — and gently bumped your shoulder against his."Same," you said simply.For a moment, Rafayel just stared at you, a strange light in his eyes.Then he looked away quickly, coughing awkwardly, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "You're trouble," under his breath.But he didn’t move away.If anything, he drifted a little closer.You walked on, the ocean singing its ancient, secret song around you, your hands brushing now and then — neither of you pulling away.Neither of you needing words.The sea had brought you here.Maybe, just maybe...
It had known what it was doing all along.

  It happened so fast you barely understood what set it off. One moment, you and Rafayel were walking back up the beach after another long day of swimming, laughing, teasing like always — that strange closeness between you simmering under every glance, every smile. The next, it exploded.All beacuse his mate asked for a favor. A favor that almost got you killed becuse you refused to listen to her to get out. How were you supposed to just sit by and watch her almost get killed by that wandrer! Rafayel would be so sad. You both got out safely thanks to her partner. So why is he so mad at you?"You don't have to act like you're responsible for me," you snapped, voice sharp as the wind picking up the sand around you. Rafayel stiffened, his mismatched blue-pink eyes narrowing."I am responsible," he said tightly. "You’re not from here. You don't understand how dangerous this world can be, did today not teach you anything?!" You threw up your hands. "I'm not a child, Rafayel! I lived among humans for years, I know how to survive. Just because I’m not from your side of the ocean doesn’t mean I’m helpless!" He took a step closer, looming. "You think survival means trusting strangers? Wandering around like nothing can touch you?""I was with MC!"You threw your hands up frustrated. "Exactly!" He yelled back."You don't trust me," you accused, the words spilling out before you could stop them."You don't even see me. You still see me as someone you have to protect, not someone who could stand beside you. You're projecting her on to me aren't you." His jaw tightened so much you thought it might crack."No, you're not her. You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything because you trusted too much." Your heart twisted at the bitterness in his voice. "I do," you whispered. Rafayel flinched. Just slightly.But you saw it.The pain in your chest boiled over. "You had a chance to be with your mate again," you said, voice shaking. "Even if she doesn’t remember you. At least you can see her every day, know she’s alive. I watched mine marry someone else! I lost everything, and I’m still here, trying! Don't you dare keep me in the dark!" You didn't realize you were crying until he reached out — instinctively, a flicker of guilt flashing over his face and you slapped his hand away. "And you still don't trust me," you said hoarsely.  He shook his head, looking... desperate, for once. "It’s not about trust, it’s about—" "What else have you lied about?" you cut him off. "What else haven't you told me?" Rafayel froze. You knew. You felt it — the hesitation, the things left unsaid hanging between you like a blade. "I…" he started, but the words stuck. Your vision blurred with betrayal. "Forget it," you said thickly, stepping back. He reached out again, helpless. "Y/N, wait—" "No!" Your voice broke."I’m done waiting for someone to choose me." You turned and ran. You stumbled through the woods near the beach, tears hot against your cheeks, the sea’s song a dull roar in your ears. That’s when you saw it. A glowing rift — swirling blue and silver — humming low and mournful against the trees.A portal.A way home. You stared at it, your heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else.Was this fate?A second chance to go back to where you belonged? Rafayel sat slumped in his art room, hollowed out from the fight, watching the moon’s reflection on the water when he saw it —The portal flaring into life, visible even from here. And you. Standing there. Tears streaking down your face. Before he could think, before he could breathe, he was running.Down the stairs, through the gardens, toward the beach. He stumbled onto the sand just in time to see— The portal... flicker. The light swallowed itself with a hiss and a crackle. You were gone. Rafayel collapsed to his knees, fists buried in the cold sand.The breath left his body in a broken gasp. Gone.You were gone. He stayed there long after the portal’s glow faded, the weight of regret crushing him, the waves lapping indifferently at his sides.The mansion turned into a tomb the next few days. Rafayel wandered it like a ghost — not painting, not eating, barely sleeping — haunted by the echo of your laughter in every hallway. Thomas tried calling him. So did MC.He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He'd failed you. Just like he'd failed before. His phone rang again.He almost ignored it. But when he saw the caller ID — Talia — he picked up, barely managing a croaked, "What?" "You idiot," his aunt snapped immediately. "You didn’t even check before assuming the worst, did you?" Rafayel’s heart thudded painfully. "What are you talking about?" Talia’s voice softened, just a little."She didn’t leave, Rafayel." He froze. "She’s been staying with me," Talia said. "She found the portal but didn’t go through. She was too scared to come back to you after your fight." Rafayel’s breath hitched.Relief — raw and staggering — crashed over him. "And if you don’t get over here," Talia added sharply, "she’s going to waste away thinking you don’t want her either." He didn’t even bother grabbing shoes. He ran.  (Not that you let him meet you. You were spiteful too.)-----The black car rolled up silently at the edge of the marble driveway, headlights off.Inside, you sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, still fuming but heart hammering.Mc grinned nervously as she threw the car in park.
"You sure you don’t want me to stay? In case you like… tackle him or something?" She half-joked, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel.You gave her a sideways look. "I’m not going to murder him," you muttered.
Probably.Mc laughed, reached over to ruffle your hair affectionately — something she’d started doing lately — and said, "Go easy on him. He’s been unbearable."You snorted, unbuckling your seatbelt.
Mc leaned over before you could open the door."For real though," she said quietly, "he's been breaking apart without you. It doesn't help that you refuse to see him."Your fingers froze on the handle.
You didn’t look at him, just nodded and slipped out.Mc watched you walk to the door before sighing heavily and pulling away into the night.

--- The door creaked open before you even knocked. Rafayel stood there in sweatpants and a loose black shirt, barefoot, his ashen-purple hair messy like he hadn't slept properly in days. He scowled immediately — a breathtaking pout, really — arms crossing over his chest like an angry child. "You refuse to see me at Aunt Talia’s, but you'll let Mc smuggle you here," he grumbled. You pushed past him without answering, making your way into the living room. "You’re so petty," he muttered under his breath. You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "And you’re so infuriating." "You missed me," he said petulantly. "No, I didn’t." "Yes, you did." You turned fully to face him, fury and aching love swirling dangerously in your chest."You don’t get to decide what I feel!" you snapped. He stopped in his tracks. His mismatched blue-pink eyes widened, stunned. Silence. Then suddenly—He surged forward, closing the space between you in a few fast, frantic steps. "You love me," he said roughly, desperately, like he was trying to will it into truth. "You love me and you’re just scared." You opened your mouth to deny it—To fight it—But the words never made it out. Because Rafayel cupped your face in trembling hands and whispered, voice breaking, "I’m in love with you." The world slammed to a halt. You stared at him, lips parted, heart threatening to shatter inside your chest. "I don't want her," he said, forehead pressing to yours. "I want you. Only you." Tears blurred your vision at finally getting a confirmation, but- "You— You still have a bond with her," you whispered brokenly. "I don’t care," he said fiercely, breathless. "I’ll burn the gods, the rules, the whole d@mn universe if it means I get to stay with you." Your control crumbled. A sob tore free from your throat, and then his lips were on yours — desperate, claiming, pleading. The kiss was messy, urgent, wet with tears — his and yours — tasting of heartbreak and hope and everything you’d both buried too long. He hauled you up effortlessly, one arm under your thighs, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as you kissed him like you were drowning and he was the only air left in the world. He stumbled through the halls, not breaking the kiss even for a second, until he reached his bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him. Clothes disappeared somewhere along the way — not careful, not neat — just thrown aside in the feverish need to feel skin against skin. The night bloomed into something fierce, raw, transformative.It was the start of a new bond.When you lay together afterward, tangled in sheets and each other, the faint glow of a new soul tie shimmered around you both — warm, wild, and achingly real. It was blue swirls glowing the same shade as the ocean.  
  Three years later
 The water was warm and golden with the late afternoon sun above, rays filtering down like soft, waving ribbons through the vast blue. You and Rafayel floated effortlessly, your colorful tails swaying gently with the current. Rafayel’s tail shimmered a brilliant blue under the light, and yours sparkled a delicate, proud pink. But between you both, wobbling clumsily with little kicks of his tiny purple tail, was your son — Felix..
  You sat curled up on the wide, soft couch, Felix resting sleepily against your chest, his tiny purple tail flicking lazily now and then in the blanket you had wrapped him in.
 
  Rafayel sat protectively close beside you, one arm stretched behind you along the couch, the other resting gently on Felix’s back.
 
  The house was unusually quiet — until the front door burst open with all the subtlety of a shipwreck.
 
  "Where is he?!"

  Talia’s voice rang through the mansion, full of wild excitement.
 
  You and Rafayel exchanged a look — you with amusement, him with pure dread — right as Talia stormed into the room like a force of nature.
 
  And then she saw him.
 
  Her eyes locked onto Felix’s tiny figure, onto the little flashes of purple where the blanket had shifted. His tail flickering between tiny human legs and a purple tail.
 
  There was a moment of absolute, stunned silence.
 
  And then —
 
  "PFFFFFT!"

  Talia absolutely howled with laughter, clapping her hands in delight.
 
  Rafayel groaned loudly, dropping his head back against the couch. "Here we go..." he muttered.
 
  Talia wiped at fake tears as she staggered forward, her voice gleeful.
 
  "A PURPLE TAIL!" she cackled, practically vibrating with glee. "I knew it! I knew it! Pink and blue makes purple, and here’s the living proof!"
 
  You couldn't help it — you dissolved into helpless giggles, trying (and failing) not to wake Felix.
 
  Rafayel gave Talia a deadpan look.
 
  "He's not a color wheel experiment, Talia," he said dryly.
 
  Talia ignored him completely, kneeling dramatically in front of you to examine Felix like he was a priceless treasure.
 
  "My precious little powerful masterpiece, look at that flickering tail and legs!" she cooed, tapping her nose to Felix’s tiny one. "You are perfect. You have your father’s hair, your mother’s smile, and a tail that's going to cause absolute chaos at the lemurain gatherings."
 
  Felix gave a soft, sleepy gurgle and flapped his little tail, sending a few sparkling droplets into the air.
 
  Talia gasped, clutching her chest. "He’s already a star!" 
 
  Rafayel looked skyward, clearly begging the heavens for patience.
 
  You grinned up at him, your heart so full it ached.
 
  "Face it," you whispered to him, unable to hide your amusement,

  "Felix is going to be spoiled rotten."
 
  Rafayel sighed — but there was no real frustration behind it. Only the warm, helpless love of a man who had more happiness than he ever knew what to do with.
 
  "Yeah," he said, voice rough with emotion as he gazed at the two people he loved most in the world.

  "And he deserves every bit of it."
.He was a tiny, perfect replica of Rafayel, from his mischievous two-toned blue-pink eyes to the unruly waves of his ashen-purple hair that floated like a halo around his head in the water. Felix let out a happy string of baby noises, bubbles rising from his mouth as he flapped his little tail, waddling adorably toward you. Both you and Rafayel couldn't stop the warm, adoring smiles on your faces. "Come on, little minnow," Rafayel cooed, stretching his arms out."Mommy and Daddy are going to show you something special." You giggled softly, nudging your mate with your shoulder as you beckoned Felix too. The tiny boy squealed in delight, splashing excitedly before swimming closer in his clumsy little way, guided by your encouraging hands. The three of you sank deeper, drifting down past the colorful coral gardens and into the shadowy remains of an ancient, forgotten world. Before you, like a dream lost to time, lay the grand ruins of Lemuria. Towering stone pillars, half-swallowed by reefs and seaweed, stretched toward the heavens; crumbled archways and mosaics shimmered with life as schools of bright fish darted in and out, welcoming the new sea creature into their midst. Felix's big eyes grew impossibly wide as he swirled in place, his tiny hands reaching toward the curious fish that flitted by him. Rafayel chuckled lowly, pride and nostalgia thick in his voice. "This was my home once," he said softly, guiding Felix’s tiny hand to touch a smooth, worn stone covered in glowing moss."And now," he whispered, glancing at you with a look so full of love it made your chest ache,"It’s your home too once we get to rebuild Lemuria." Felix gurgled happily, blowing a string of little bubbles that made you both laugh. The fishes circled you, sensing the joy, the bond, the magic that now blessed these ancient waters once again. You floated closer to Rafayel, your tail brushing his lightly — an innocent, warm gesture — and he twined your fingers together without a thought, squeezing once. The three of you, hand in tiny hand in bigger hand, swam forward through the ruins — a new family, in a place where old memories once ruled, now singing a brand-new, sweeter story. And far above, unseen by any but the ocean itself, the light of your soul bonds shimmered quietly in hues of pink, blue, and brilliant purple.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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