The shoreline opened before me like a secret.
The sky above the sea wasn't black anymore—it shimmered in deep indigo and bruised violet, streaked with thin threads of silver where the last stars still clung to the coming dawn. The horizon glowed faintly, a soft promise of light that hadn't quite arrived.
The beach glittered.
Not gold—blue.
Every step I took disturbed the sand, and it responded by lighting up beneath my feet, shimmering like spilled starlight. Tiny sparks bloomed and faded with each movement, glowing cold and unreal, as if the earth itself remembered the night.
I stopped, afraid to break the spell. As if I would lose this moment.
This feeling again. As if I had been here before.
The ocean breathed steadily, waves rolling in slow and endless, their edges glowing the same luminous blue as they kissed the shore. The salt air cooled my overheated skin, soothing the fire inside me, quieting my pulse.
For a moment—just one—I felt at peace, longing for something… someone.
Then the shadows moved.
At the far edge of the beach, where the forest still clung to darkness, the sand didn't glow. Purple shadows spilled outward, thick and slow, seeping from between the trees like ink poured into water. They twisted and curled across the ground, alive in a way shadows should never be.
Watching.
Waiting.
The air grew heavy as they spread, blotting out the bioluminescence wherever they passed. The beautiful blue light dimmed beneath them, swallowed inch by inch.
I took an unsteady step back.
The ocean surged louder, the wind picking up as if warning me. Cold water wrapped around my ankles again, grounding me to the present—to the narrow strip of light that still belonged to me.
"I wouldn't stay in the water for long if I were you," a male voice said calmly from the forest.
I jolted, my heart hammering. "Who are you?" I called. "Show yourself."
"Get out of the water," the figure ordered.
"Was that you?" I asked carefully.
"Was I what?" he answered playfully.
"Stop playing with me. Were you the one watching me," I snapped.
"You should work on your attitude," he said with a groan.
The shadows stopped at the edge of the glowing sand.
They did not cross.
They gathered instead, pooling together, pulsing faintly—purple against blue, darkness pressing against light.
A boundary.
"Your shadows—you're the one who attacked my friend!" I snapped, panic and anger threading my voice.
"These are not my shadows," he replied calmly, his tone unshaken, though I still couldn't see him through the smoky shadows.
"wha.." I asked, my voice trembling.
The water around my ankles shifted.
Not waves.
Something brushed against my skin—slick, cold, deliberate.
I sucked in a breath and stepped back, but the surf pulled harder this time, coiling around my calves like a living thing.
Then it yanked.
I cried out as something wrapped tight around my legs, dragging me forward. I looked down just in time to see it rise from the water—
A massive, sinuous shape, its body long and coiled like an enormous sea snake. Its scales glimmered faintly, catching the bioluminescence before smothering it, blue light vanishing beneath its dark, wet length. A narrow head broke the surface, eyes pale and unblinking, mouth splitting open to reveal rows of glassy teeth.
I screamed.
The thing tightened its grip and surged back toward the sea, pulling me off my feet. Cold water swallowed my knees, my waist—
"No—!" The fire inside me flared instinctively, panicked and directionless—
Ash calmly cut through the chaos. "I really did warn you."
I sucked in a sharp breath as the creature yanked again, dragging me deeper. Cold water surged up my thighs, my waist.
Panic ripped through me. I clawed at the water, but it was everywhere, pressing in, choking, dragging me under. My lungs burned. My vision blurred.
"Most people respond to that warning by leaving the water."
I wanted to scream. I tried—but only bubbles escaped. The sea snake's coils tightened, pulling me down into darkness.
Cold, sharp pain seared my legs as I thrashed, gasping blindly. He continued, but I could barely hear it through the roar of water in my ears.
Then suddenly, the water shifted. Something cut through it—a dark, slicing force that wrapped around the sea snake. It shrieked, thrashing violently, and for a moment I was free, pushed upward toward the surface.
I broke through the water, gasping, coughing, trembling. My hair plastered to my face, my lungs screaming for air.
"You could've just listened the first time," He said dryly from the shore.
I glared up at the silhouette, my breath still ragged.
"I didn't ask for your help."
A pause.
Then, amused. Almost curious.
"You humans," he said lightly, "really are an ungrateful species."
I snorted despite myself, pain flaring as I shifted onto one elbow.
"Us humans?" I shot back. "What are you, then? An animal?"
There was a silence—longer this time. Not offended. Measured. A low huff of laughter followed—soft, but unmistakably real.
"Oh," he said, "if only it were that simple."
"Who are you?" I asked, straining to catch a glimpse of his face in the dark.
There was a pause.
Then, almost theatrically, he said, "Where are my manners?"
He lowered himself onto one knee, close enough that I had no choice but to look at him. Moonlight brushed his features—just enough. His gaze locked onto mine, steady and unreadable.
"Anzar."
The name settled strangely in the air, heavier than it should have been. At his feet, the shadows stirred faintly, rippling as if they'd heard a familiar command. The ocean remained quiet. Obedient.
"Anzar?" I took a step back, regaining my footing.
My pulse quickened—not with fear, but with an uneasy awareness that the world itself seemed to be listening to him. Yet, strangely, I felt relaxed. The realization startled me more than the attack ever could. Somewhere deep down, I knew he wouldn't hurt me.
The certainty settled heavy and quiet in my chest unearned, inexplicable, and it should have terrified me.
The clouds shifted. Moonlight spilled through, silver and cold, bright enough to finally reveal his face. Not fully. Never fully.
My breath hitched.
He was tall—taller than anyone I knew—but it wasn't just his height. It was the way he stood, balanced and still, as if the ground itself adjusted to him. His body was lean and powerful, every line deliberate, strength carved into him rather than trained.
His skin was tan, warm even under the cold moonlight, hinting at sun or something that mimicked it too perfectly. Faint blue markings traced beneath the surface of his arms, glimmering like living ink, pulsing slowly in sync with his breathing.
His dark hair fell loose around his face, careless yet deliberate. Sharp features emerged beneath it—high cheekbones, a strong jaw, a mouth that suggested humor wasn't far away, even when he was serious.
Then there were his eyes. Deep violet. Not reflecting the moonlight holding it. Subtle, but unmistakable, as if something bright and watchful lived behind them. When his gaze met mine, I felt measured not judged, but studied, like a puzzle he was already halfway through solving.
I noticed his ears last. Slightly pointed. Nothing dramatic, just wrong enough that once I saw them, I couldn't unsee them. Too refined. Too precise. Like nature had started to shape them one way… then changed its mind.
The shadows around him gathered closer than they should have, stretching faintly toward his feet before pulling back. Even the ocean seemed to obey him, waves softening, retreating, as if waiting for permission.
The silence between us stretched, filled only by the hush of the waves and the faint crackle of glowing sand beneath my palms.
"I am Tafukt. And, thank you"
He paused, studying me for a moment longer. Then—he smiled. Really smiled. Beautifully. Not just a casual curve of his lips, but a smile that seemed to make the world hold its breath, softening the shadows, the fear, even the restless glow beneath my skin.
Anzar straightened slowly, the blue symbols along his arms dimming as he moved. The shadows followed him not clinging, not dragging but drifting into place as if they knew exactly where to be or being commanded to protect him.
"You're staring," he said, not unkindly.
I realized I was. Too late, I looked away.
"Hard not to," I muttered. "You glow. And you just scared off something that wanted to eat me."
"Technically," he replied, glancing toward the water, "it wanted to drown you first."
I pushed myself up, legs trembling. The moment I stood, the symbols under my skin stirred again warm, restless. Anzar noticed immediately. His posture shifted, subtle but alert.
"Easy," he said. "You're still bleeding power."
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to still the warmth spreading beneath my skin.
"I am not bleeding," I scoffed weakly
Another pulse rolled through me stronger this time. The symbols flared faintly, violet light slipping through them like breath escaping a held scream. The sand at my feet glimmered brighter in response, then dimmed again, as if it had felt something pass through.
Anzar stepped closer. Not touch-close. Careful-close. "You are not supposed to be here"
I Know right"
"Stop fighting it," he said. "You're making it spike."
"I'm not doing anything," I snapped. "I'm standing here."
"That," he said, tilting his head, "is doing something."
My knees buckled suddenly, strength draining as if someone had pulled a plug I hadn't known existed. I caught myself just in time, palms slapping against the luminous sand. It burned, cold and clean.
The fire inside me recoiled. I sucked in a breath, realizing too late what had happened.
"I didn't—"
"I know," Anzar said quietly.
The humor was gone from his voice now. Not replaced by fear but by focus. His violet eyes tracked the fading glow beneath my skin as if memorizing a pattern.
"The beach is grounding you," he continued.
"You're saying the sand is… helping?"
"For now."
I looked up at him. "And when will it stop?"
A pause.
He looked toward the forest, where the purple darkness still pressed against the edge of the light—restless, but contained.
"You're not supposed to be here."
"I know, right," I muttered, half-nervous, half-defiant.
Anzar tilted his head, eyes narrowing, scanning the glowing sand beneath me. "Defiance won't save you," he said quietly, almost to himself. "You're… unstable."
My pulse jumped. "Unstable? You mean dangerous? Me?!"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crouched slightly, closer to my level, careful and deliberate, like a predator assessing a prey—or maybe a teacher assessing a student. The shadows around him shifted subtly, forming a faint ripple along the sand that made it glow brighter for a second before dimming again.
"You need control," he finally said. "Power like yours… it doesn't wait. It demands obedience. Or it destroys everything."
I swallowed hard, my hands brushing against the cooling sand. "What if I don't? What if I just ignore it?"
A shadow moved behind him subtle, fluid, like smoke and I realized the darkness from the forest was inching closer again. Not threatening… not yet. But curious. Hungry.
He stood, tall and impossibly composed, the violet glow of his markings pulsing faintly in time with my own heartbeat. "You either learn fast... or someone else comes to collect what you're spilling." he said, voice calm but carrying the weight of inevitability,
The symbols under my skin answered for me.
Heat surged violently, uncontrolled light tearing through the seams of my clothes as if my body were cracking open. The air warped. The shoreline trembled. I cried out as pressure built behind my ribs too much, too fast.
Pain ripped through my chest, stealing my breath. I collapsed forward, palms scraping uselessly at the now-dark sand as the world pitched sideways.
"I can't…" My voice broke. "I can't stop it…"
He rushed to brace me as he dropped to his knees, catching me before I hit the ground. His hands closed around my arms and he flinched.
Not subtle. Not imagined.
His face tightened in a sharp, involuntary grimace, like the contact hurt him in a way he hadn't expected or wanted. His breath hitched, jaw locking as if he were biting back something worse.
I saw it.
Even through the blur, even through the pain, I saw it.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He shook his head once, tight and controlled, pulling me closer despite the visible strain. His grip was careful, deliberate, like he was holding something fragile and dangerous at the same time.
"Not your fault," he said through clenched teeth.
That feeling again.
That strange, impossible certainty that I knew him.
My body was screaming at me to remember.
"Do we kno—"
The power surged again, sudden and violent one last brutal wave.
My vision tunneled. The light beneath my skin flickered wildly, then fractured like a star collapsing in on itself.
The ocean roared… then fell away, distant and unreal.
Anzar's face was the last thing I saw clearly—eyes narrowed, expression drawn with effort, enduring the contact even as it clearly cost him.
"It was you… in that dream," I whispered.
For a moment, something shifted in his expression, too subtle for me to understand.
"Sleep," he murmured, close to my ear. Not a command. An anchor.
I couldn't fight anymore. Darkness rushed in, and my body went slack in his arms.
The last thing I felt before everything disappeared…
was Anzar's heartbeat, fast and unsteady against my cheek.