Three Months That Felt Like Forever and No Time At All
They tried to make every second count.
Rafayel took her everywhere he could think of—every hidden corner of the kingdom, every secret place he'd discovered in his years on the surface. They watched sunrises from mountaintops and sunsets from meadows full of wildflowers. They caught fireflies in jars and released them to watch the light scatter. They lay in grass and counted stars, her head on his chest, his fingers tangled in her hair, both of them pretending that time wasn't running out.
Nana memorized everything. The way he smiled when he thought she wasn't looking—soft and unguarded, like he'd forgotten for just a moment that he was dying. The sound of his laugh, which she'd decided was the most beautiful sound in the world, even knowing the person who made it would soon vanish without a trace. The way his eyes caught light, shifting between purple and blue like twilight water. The way he said her name, like it was something sacred.
The way he loved her, completely and without reservation, even though—or maybe because—their time was limited.
She memorized it all, holding each moment close like the precious things they were. Building a treasury of memories to sustain her through whatever came after.
Because Nana had made her choice.
She'd made it the night he'd told her everything, the night his tears had turned to pearls and scattered across her floor like fallen stars. She'd made it while holding those pearls in her hands, feeling their weight, understanding what they represented.
His grief. His love. His refusal to hurt her even to save himself.
So she would save him instead.
She just couldn't tell him. Because Rafayel would never allow it, would fight her with every breath, would rather dissolve into foam than let her sacrifice herself.
*I'm sorry*, she thought every time she looked at him and felt the weight of her secret pressing against her chest. *I'm sorry, but I love you too much to watch you die. I love you too much to let you fade away when I have the power to stop it.*
*Even if it costs me everything.*
The weeks passed too quickly. Rafayel grew more translucent with each one, his body slowly forgetting how to be solid. By the end of the second month, she could see through his hands entirely. Could see the light pass through his torso, his legs, like he was made of colored glass rather than flesh.
He tried to hide it from her. Wore darker clothes, kept to shadows, avoided mirrors. But she saw. How could she not see? Every day he was a little less *there*, a little closer to becoming nothing.
*Not much longer*, she told herself. *Just a little longer, and then...*
And then she would do what needed to be done.
"Take me there," Nana said one morning, three weeks before the curse would complete.
They were sitting in her chambers—she'd stopped caring if anyone noticed him there, stopped pretending this was something that could be hidden—and he was braiding her hair with fingers that flickered in and out of visibility.
"Take you where?" Rafayel asked, though something in his tone said he already knew.
"To where you used to live," she said quietly. "To Lemuria. I want to see it. I want to see where you're from, what you lost. I want to understand."
Rafayel's hands stilled in her hair. "Nana..."
"Please," she turned to look at him, and whatever he saw in her eyes made him soften. "We don't have much time left. I want to see it. With you. Before..."
Before you disappear, she didn't say. Before I do what I'm planning to do. Before everything ends.
Rafayel studied her face for a long moment, and she forced herself to hold his gaze, to not let him see the secret burning behind her eyes. Finally, he sighed.
"It's a three-day journey," he warned. "Longer, with me like this. I can't move as fast anymore."
"I don't care how long it takes," Nana said. "I want to see it."
"It's just ruins now. Sand and broken buildings and sea foam. There's nothing beautiful left there."
"You're wrong," she said softly, reaching up to cup his translucent cheek. "You'll be there. That makes it beautiful."
Something flickered across his face—pain, love, resignation. "You're going to kill me with sweetness before the curse can finish the job," he murmured.
*No*, Nana thought. *I'm going to save you. Even if you hate me for it.*
"Is that a yes?" she asked instead.
Rafayel pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Yes. We'll leave tomorrow."
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🐚🐚🐚
The journey took four days in the end, not three. Rafayel's strength was fading faster than he wanted to admit, and they had to stop frequently to rest. But Nana didn't mind. Every extra day was a gift, even if it was a gift wrapped in the knowledge of what was coming.
They traveled mostly in silence, comfortable with each other in a way that didn't require words. Sometimes Nana would point out something beautiful—a bird, a flower, the way the light hit the mountains—and Rafayel would nod and smile and hold her hand a little tighter.
On the second evening, they stopped to rest beneath a sprawling oak tree. The sun was setting, painting everything in shades of amber and gold. Nana leaned against Rafayel's chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her ear—still there, still steady, but somehow feeling fainter than it should.
"I love you," she said suddenly, the words spilling out before she could stop them.
Rafayel's arms tightened around her. "I know."
"I need you to know that," she continued, her voice urgent in a way she couldn't quite hide. "I need you to know that meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. That these months with you were worth everything. That I don't regret a single moment."
"Nana—"
"Let me finish," she said, and there were tears in her voice now. "I need you to know that whatever happens, wherever you go, you'll always be..." She pressed her hand against her chest, right over her heart. "Here. Always here."
Rafayel was quiet for a long moment. Then, so softly she almost didn't hear it: "Why does this sound like goodbye?"
*Because it is*, she thought. *Because this is me saying all the things I won't be able to say later.*
"It's not," she lied, turning in his arms to face him. "It's just... I love you. And I wanted to say it. While I still can."
*While we both still can.*
Rafayel cupped her face in his hands—those beautiful, translucent hands that she could see through now, that looked like they might blow away in a strong wind. He kissed her slowly, tenderly, like he was trying to pour everything he felt into that one touch.
"I love you too," he whispered against her lips. "More than anything. More than everything. You know that, right?"
"I know," Nana said, and tasted salt. Couldn't tell if the tears were his or hers or both.
They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other beneath the oak tree, the sunset fading to twilight around them. And if Nana cried herself to sleep while Rafayel held her, while his tears turned to pearls that scattered across the grass like scattered stars, well. That was between her and the universe that had decided their love would be the thing that destroyed them both.
When they finally arrived at what used to be the Lemurian Sea, Nana understood why Rafayel had tried to warn her.
It was devastating.
Golden sand stretched in every direction, as far as the eye could see. The seabed lay exposed like a wound, all its secrets revealed in the harsh light of day. She could see the topography of what had once been hidden—trenches and valleys and ridges that had been shaped over millennia by water that no longer existed.
And in the center, rising from the sand like the bones of some great beast, stood the ruins of Lemuria.
The palace had collapsed, its pearl walls cracked and scattered. What had once been soaring towers were now broken stumps reaching toward a sky they would never touch again. Coral gardens that must have been breathtaking when alive were now skeletal remains, crumbling to dust with every gust of wind.
But worst of all was the foam.
It covered everything—delicate, iridescent, heartbreaking. The remains of ten thousand souls, still clinging to the ruins of their home like they couldn't quite believe it was gone.
"Oh, Rafayel," Nana whispered, and her hand found his. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," he said, but his voice was hollow. "This is what I chose. What I paid for loving you more than duty."
*And what I'll pay to save you*, Nana thought, but didn't say.
They walked through the ruins slowly, Rafayel pointing out what things had been. "That was the market square. That was the gardens. That pile of rubble was where I lived." His voice was carefully neutral, but Nana could hear the grief underneath. "We used to have festivals there. In the center plaza. Everyone would gather and there would be music and dancing and..."
He trailed off, staring at the foam-covered ruins.
"It's still beautiful," Nana said quietly.
Rafayel laughed, the sound bitter. "How can you say that? It's a graveyard."
"Because you're here," she said simply. "Because you loved this place enough to grieve for it. Because even in ruins, I can see what it must have been. Because—" She squeezed his hand. "Because love makes everything beautiful. Even loss."
Rafayel pulled her close, pressing his face into her hair. She felt his body shake with silent sobs, felt more pearls fall and scatter across the sand, adding to the sea foam that already covered everything.
"I miss them," he whispered. "I miss them so much. And I hate that I don't regret choosing you. I hate that even seeing this, even knowing what I did, I'd still make the same choice."
"I know," Nana murmured, holding him tighter. "I know."
They stood like that for a long time, two figures in the center of a golden desert that used to be an ocean, mourning everything that had been lost.
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To be continued __