The Balcony at Sunset
They sat on Rafayel's studio balcony, the ocean stretching endlessly before them, the sun beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. Their time. Always their time.
But tonight felt different. Heavier. Like the air itself knew what was coming.
Thomas had left an hour ago—another gallery exhibition, he'd said, though they all knew it was an excuse to give them privacy. The studio behind them was quiet. Just the two of them, the ocean, and three hundred years of truth waiting to be spoken.
Nana sat in one of the weathered wooden chairs, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Rafayel sat across from her, close enough to touch but maintaining distance, like he was afraid one wrong move would send her running again.
"I need to know everything," Nana said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly. "From the beginning. How we met. How I died. What the bond mark means. Everything you've been hiding."
Rafayel's eyes grew distant, looking not at her but through her, seeing things that happened lifetimes ago. The weight of centuries settled on his shoulders, visible in the way they slumped, in the way his hands clenched together.
When he spoke, his voice was soft. Distant. Like waves heard from far away.
"The beginning," he repeated. "Which beginning? The first time we met? The second time? The moment I fell in love with you? They're all beginnings. And endings. And everything in between."
"Start with the first time," Nana said. "When we were children. The story you told me about your 'friend.'"
A ghost of a smile touched Rafayel's lips. "That story. I thought I was being clever, telling you our history disguised as fiction. I didn't realize you'd understand it better than I did." He took a breath. "Alright. The first beginning, then."
"I was fifteen," Rafayel began, his eyes still distant, seeing the past. "A prince of Lemuria, second son to the Sea God King. Young. Stupid. Bored with palace life and all its rules and protocols."
He paused, and something almost fond entered his expression.
"The surface world was forbidden. Too dangerous, my father said. Humans were unpredictable. But I was fifteen and convinced I knew better than everyone else. So one day, during a festival when everyone was distracted, I swam up."
Nana listened, trying to imagine him—young, reckless, still innocent.
"It was beautiful up there," Rafayel continued. "The sun on my face. The warmth. Everything in Lemuria was cool and blue, but the surface—it was gold and bright and *alive* in ways I'd never experienced. I thought I'd just look around for a few hours and return before anyone noticed I was gone."
His expression darkened.
"Then the storm hit."
Nana's hand went to her chest, something aching there even though she didn't remember.
"It came out of nowhere," Rafayel said. "One moment the sky was clear, the next—wind, rain, waves like mountains. I tried to dive back down but the current was too strong. It threw me against rocks, then toward the shore. I remember hitting the beach, remember pain, remember a coconut tree falling—"
He stopped, his breathing slightly uneven.
"It landed on my tail. Trapped me. I couldn't move, couldn't reach the water, couldn't transform. The storm surge was pulling back, and I knew—I *knew*—if the tide went out completely, I'd be left there to die in the sun."
"But you didn't die," Nana whispered.
"No." Rafayel finally looked at her, really looked at her, and his eyes were bright with emotion. "Because a little girl found me."
"You were eleven," Rafayel said softly. "Small for your age. Wearing a simple dress that was torn and dirty. Your hands were scraped, bleeding from searching through storm debris. You were looking for your parents."
Nana's breath caught. "My parents?"
"They died in the storm," Rafayel said, and his voice cracked slightly. "Your village was destroyed. You were alone, terrified, grieving. You had every reason to just walk past the strange creature trapped on the beach. Every reason to be afraid of me."
"But then You saw me and—" Rafayel smiled, sad and beautiful. "You didn't even hesitate. You just started digging. Your hands were already injured but you dug anyway, trying to move the tree, trying to free my tail. You worked until your palms were bleeding into the sand."
Tears were gathering in Nana's eyes even though she didn't remember any of this.
"I tried to tell you to leave," Rafayel continued. "That it was too dangerous, that you'd hurt yourself. But you didn't speak my language and I didn't speak yours. So we just—" He gestured helplessly. "We communicated in other ways. You'd point to where it hurt most, I'd nod. You'd show me what you were trying to do, I'd help as much as I could. It took hours."
"You freed me," Rafayel said. "Used a piece of driftwood as a lever. The tree shifted, and I was able to pull myself free. My tail was badly damaged but I could move. Could reach the water."
He paused, something vulnerable entering his expression.
"Before I left, you smiled at me. This small, tired, sad smile. Like you were happy you'd saved something, even though you'd lost everything. And I—" His voice broke. "I didn't know what I was feeling then. Didn't have words for it. I just knew that I wanted to see that smile again."
"I came back the next day," Rafayel said. "At sunset. I don't know why sunset—it just felt right. And you were there. Sitting in the same spot, like you'd been waiting."
"Had I?" Nana asked.
"I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe you just had nowhere else to go." Rafayel's hands clenched together. "We couldn't talk, not really. But we sat together. I gave you a pearl—the first one. You gave me a flower you'd found. It became our ritual.Every day at sunset "
"Every day for three years," Rafayel continue "You'd tell me about your day—I couldn't understand the words but I understood the emotions. Happy days, sad days, angry days. I'd listen. Sometimes I'd bring you fish to eat. Sometimes you'd bring me human food to try. We taught each other our languages, slowly. You named me Rafayel because you couldn't pronounce my real Lemurian name."
He smiled at the memory.
"And somewhere in those three years, I fell in love with you. Not the dramatic, passionate kind. The quiet kind. The kind that seeps into your bones so slowly you don't realize it's there until you can't imagine living without it."
Rafayel's hand moved to his chest, pressing against his shirt.
"The day I realized I loved you, this appeared."
He began unbuttoning his shirt with shaking fingers. Nana watched, her heart pounding, as he revealed his chest.
And there it was.
A mark identical to hers. A fishtail, elegant and detailed, positioned over his heart. But unlike hers, which was always a soft pink, his glowed—pulsing red with each beat of his heart, bright enough to cast shadows in the fading light.
"The bond mark," Rafayel said quietly. "In Lemurian culture, it appears when a Lemurian finds their true mate. Their soulmate. The one person they're meant to love for eternity."
Nana's hand went to her own neck, touching her mark through her shirt. "But I'm human."
"You're human," Rafayel agreed. "It shouldn't have been possible. Lemurians only bond with other Lemurians. But somehow—" He looked at her with wonder and grief tangled together. "Somehow you were mine anyway. Fate or destiny or cosmic accident. I don't know which. I just know that from the moment this mark appeared, I was yours. Completely. Irrevocably. Forever."
"Does it—" Nana touched her neck again. "Does mine glow too?"
"When you're emotional, yes. Red. Like mine." Rafayel's mark pulsed brighter as if emphasizing the point. "It's how I knew you were reborn. Three months ago, I felt it—the bond suddenly active again after a hundred years of silence. I followed the feeling and found you at that festival. Fighting to save fish from a pond."
Despite everything, Nana felt her lips twitch. "You watched me save fish?"
"You saved fish," Rafayel corrected. "While all the other children were trying to catch them for prizes, you were releasing them back into the pond. Telling the vendor they deserved to live. Just like you did with me."
His expression grew soft and aching.
"That's when I knew for certain. Same soul. Same heart. Just a different body. You were back."
"But we met again before this life," Nana said. "You said—in the Han Dynasty?"
Rafayel's expression shuttered, pain flooding his features. "Yes. Your second life. My first time finding you after—" He stopped, struggling. "After you died the first time."
"How did I die?" Nana asked, even though she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Disease," Rafayel said flatly. "You were fourteen. The same illness that had swept through your village, killing your parents. I was visiting you at sunset like always, and you—" His voice cracked. "You told me you were sick. That you might not be able to come tomorrow. Or the next day. That I should stop waiting."
"But you didn't stop waiting," Nana whispered.
"I didn't stop waiting," Rafayel confirmed. "I came every sunset for two years. You never came back. I didn't know why. Thought you'd moved away. Thought you'd forgotten me. Thought I'd done something wrong."
His hands were shaking now.
"Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I transformed—took human legs for the first time—and went searching for you. Found your village. Found the memorial stones. Found yours."
A tear slid down his cheek, becoming a small pink pearl that fell to the balcony floor with a tiny *clink*.
"You'd been dead for a year and a half by the time I found out. And I'd spent that entire time sitting on a beach, waiting for someone who was never coming back."
"Rafayel—" Nana reached for him, but he shook his head.
"That's when I learned about human lifespans. About how fragile you are. How easily you die. And I—" More tears, more pearls. "I broke. Completely broke. Went back to Lemuria and didn't leave for decades."
"But you found me again," Nana said.
"Ninety-seven years later," Rafayel said. "I felt the bond reactivate. Suddenly, impossibly, you were *there* again. Alive. I couldn't understand it—humans don't come back—but I didn't care. I had to find you."
He took a shuddering breath.
"You'd been reborn as Princess Angelina of the Han Dynasty. Twenty years old. Beautiful. Kind. No memory of me whatsoever."
"And you—" Nana prompted.
"I was twenty-three in appearance. The Sea God Prince. My father had recently died, and the throne—" Rafayel's expression darkened. "The throne passed to me. Along with all the responsibilities. All the duties."
"Including the ritual," Rafayel whisper, his voice hollow. "Lemuria was dying. The sea itself was sick, our magic fading. To complete the transition of power, to become the true Sea God, I needed to perform the Heart Sacrifice Ritual."
He looked at her, and his eyes were ancient and grieving.
"I needed to take the heart of my bonded mate and offer it to the sea. Only then would I receive the full power of the Sea God. Only then could I save my kingdom."
Nana's hand went to her chest, covering where her heart beat. "But I was your bonded mate."
"You were my bonded mate," Rafayel said. "The bond doesn't lie. Doesn't make mistakes. You—Princess Angelina—were the reincarnation of the girl who saved me. The one I was meant to sacrifice."
"So you—" Nana's voice was barely a whisper. "You came to kill me. Again."
"I came to make you fall in love with me," Rafayel corrected. "The ritual required a *willing* sacrifice. You had to give your heart freely. Had to love me enough to die for me."
The words hung in the air, terrible and true.
"So I became an assassin," Rafayel continued, his voice distant again. "Infiltrated your palace. Became your guard. Spent every day with you, learning you, making you trust me, making you love me."
"Did it work?" Nana asked.
Rafayel smiled, bitter and broken. "Too well. You fell in love with me. I fell in love with you. Again. Even though I'd promised myself I wouldn't. Even though I knew what I had to do. Every moment with you made the ritual harder and the love deeper."
"We visited old places," Rafayel said. "I showed you the world beyond your palace. We caught gerbils in the forest. Rowed boats during lantern festivals. I painted you constantly—couldn't help myself. You were so alive, so vibrant, so *you*."
"And I loved you," Nana said, knowing somehow.
"You loved me," Rafayel confirmed. "Completely. Told me you'd do anything for me. That you'd give me anything I asked."
His expression crumpled.
"I realized I couldn't do it. Couldn't ask you to die. Couldn't take your heart even though my kingdom needed it. Even though ten thousand Lemurians would die if I didn't. I chose you over them."
"And Lemuria fell," Rafayel repeated. "The sea dried up. Turned to golden sand. My people—" His voice broke completely. "They dissolved. Became sea foam. Ten thousand Lemurians died because I was too selfish to sacrifice the one person I loved more than anything."
Pearls were falling freely now, scattering across the balcony.
"The ones who survived were the strongest—they could transform to human form, walk on land. They scattered. Hid. Blamed me. Rightfully blamed me."
"But you said I died anyway," Nana said. "If you didn't kill me—"
"You killed yourself," Rafayel said, and the words were ragged. "You figured it out. What I was. What I needed. What my kingdom needed. And you—" He looked at her with such devastating grief. "You asked to see Lemuria. Said you wanted to understand my world before I left."
"Left?" Nana asked.
"I was disappearing," Rafayel explained. "Without completing the ritual, without the full power of the Sea God, I was fading. Becoming translucent. Sea foam, like my people. I had maybe three months left."
Understanding crashed into Nana. "So I—"
"You took the blade I'd thrown away," Rafayel said. "Climbed onto the ritual altar in the ruins of my kingdom. And before I could stop you—" His voice shattered completely. "You stabbed yourself. With the beacon I'd given you. The one shaped like our bond mark."
Nana was crying now too, silent tears streaming down her face.
"The ritual activated," Rafayel continued through his sobs. "Your blood on sacred stone. Your willingness. Your love. It was enough. The sea returned. My people were reborn. The kingdom rebuilt itself. And I—"
He looked down at himself, at his hands, at the mark on his chest glowing red.
"I became the true Sea God. Full power. Full abilities. Everything I needed to protect my people and control the tides. Everything except—" His voice cracked. "Everything except the one thing that mattered."
"You." Rafayel looked at her, and his eyes were drowning in grief. "You died in my arms. Smiling. Telling me you weren't sorry. That you'd do it again. That I was written on your soul and you'd find me in the next life."
He pressed his hand against his chest, against the glowing mark.
"Your last words were 'I'llfind you again.' And then you were gone. And I was surrounded by ten thousand celebrating Lemurians while I held your body and screamed."
"I couldn't stay in Lemuria," Rafayel said quietly. "Couldn't celebrate your sacrifice. Couldn't accept the gratitude of people who were only alive because you died. So I left. Came to the surface. Started walking among humans."
"For three hundred years," Nana said.
"For three hundred years," Rafayel confirmed. "I painted. Created art. Became famous. Built a life that felt hollow because you weren't in it. And I waited. Because you promised you'd come back. And I believed you."
He finally looked at her directly, and his expression was raw and desperate.
"When I found you again three months ago—when I felt the bond activate—I was terrified. Terrified you'd remember and hate me. Terrified you'd die again. Terrified I'd lose you for a third time."
"So you lied," Nana said, but her voice wasn't accusing. Just understanding.
"So I lied," Rafayel agreed. "I became human. Became safe. Became someone you could love without knowing the weight of our history. I thought—" He laughed bitterly. "I thought if you fell in love with me as I am now, without the past, without the bond, without the tragedy—then maybe this time we'd get it right."
"But you saw," Rafayel voice cracked. "The Wanderer attack forced my hand. And now you know everything. Every lie. Every secret. Every terrible thing I've done and been."
He looked at her with such vulnerability it hurt to witness.
"And now you get to decide. Knowing all of it—knowing I let my kingdom die for you, knowing you died because of me, knowing I've been lying for months—do you still want me? Can you still love me? Or—" His voice broke. "Or should I let you go? Should I stop waiting? Should I accept that maybe three chances is all we get?"
The sun was setting fully now, the sky painted in shades of amber and rose and purple. Their time. Always their time.
Nana looked at Rafayel—at his tear-stained face, at the pearls scattered around him, at the glowing mark on his chest that matched hers. At three hundred years of grief made visible.
She stood slowly, and Rafayel flinched like he expected her to leave.
Instead, she walked over to him.
Knelt down in front of him.
And took his face in her hands.
"I need time," she said honestly. "To process all of this. To figure out who I am—Nana, Angelina, the girl on the beach, all of them or none of them. To decide if I can trust you again despite the lies."
Rafayel's eyes closed, more tears falling.
"But Rafayel?" Nana waited until he opened his eyes. "I'm not leaving. I'm not disappearing. I'm here. And I'm going to figure this out. With you. Not alone."
"With me?" Rafayel's voice was barely audible.
"With you," Nana confirmed. "Because even knowing everything—even knowing about the lies and the sacrifice and the centuries—I still—" She stopped, struggling with the words. "I still feel it. The pull. The rightness. The sense that I'm meant to be here with you."
"The bond," Rafayel whispered.
"Maybe," Nana agreed. "Or maybe just—me. Whoever I am. Whatever I am. Maybe I'm choosing you the way I chose you on that beach. The way Princess Angelina chose you on that altar. Maybe choosing you is just what I do. Across every lifetime."
Rafayel stared at her like she was a miracle he'd stopped believing in.
"So I need time," Nana repeated. "But I'm not going anywhere. We're going to figure this out together. Okay?"
"Okay," Rafayel breathed. "Okay. Together."
Nana wiped his tears—the ones that hadn't become pearls yet—with her thumbs. "No more lies though. From now on, complete honesty. Even if the truth is hard. Even if it scares me. Deal?"
"Deal," Rafayel agreed immediately. "No more lies. I swear it."
"Good." Nana smiled slightly. "Now tell me—what happened to Lemuria? If you saved it, where is it now? And are there other Lemurians? And what about—"
"So many questions," Rafayel said, but he was smiling too now, small and fragile but real. "Can I answer them while holding you? I've—I've missed holding you."
Nana considered for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. But just holding. We're not—I mean, we're still figuring things out, so—"
"Just holding," Rafayel promised. "I'll take whatever you're willing to give "
He pulled her into his arms, careful and gentle, like she might break. Like she was precious. And Nana let herself lean into him, let herself feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, the way their bond marks pulsed in perfect synchrony.
Outside, the sun finished setting.
Their time passing into night.
But for the first time in three hundred years, Rafayel wasn't watching it alone.
And for the first time in this lifetime, Nana understood why sunsets had always made her cry.
They stayed like that for a long time, holding each other, surrounded by pink pearls and the sound of the ocean, while Rafayel told her about Lemuria—about the kingdom beneath the waves, about the Lemurians who still lived, about the world she'd never known but somehow remembered in her bones.
And slowly, carefully, they began to build something new.
Something honest.
Something that might—just might—survive this time.
Because love, they were learning, wasn't about getting it right the first time.
It was about choosing each other, over and over, until you finally figured it out.
Even if it took three hundred years.
Even if it took three lifetimes.
Even if it took forever.
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🐚🐚🐚
To be continued __