The stars above me twinkled like scattered diamonds on a velvet canvas, their light piercing the endless night with a gentle, ethereal glow. I lay there, my body cradled by the soft, undulating surface beneath me—a vast sea of midnight blue water that rippled like liquid silk. It was warm against my skin, almost alive, rising and falling in a soothing rhythm that matched the steady beat of my heart. No waves crashed violently; instead, this ocean seemed to breathe, its surface smooth and inviting, as if it had been waiting just for me.
Confusion wrapped around my mind like a fog, thick and disorienting. Where was I? The last thing I remembered... what was the last thing? Flashes came like a headache—fragments of a life that felt both mine and distant, like echoes from a dream I couldn't quite grasp. My name... Alex. Yes, that was right. But beyond that, everything blurred at the edges, hazy and incomplete.
I blinked slowly, my eyelids heavy as if I'd been asleep for far too long. The air was crisp, carrying a faint salty tang mixed with something familiarly sweeter, like blooming night flowers under a full moon.
Looking down, I was in a tunic—clinging onto me, damp from the water but not soaked through. I wasn't cold; in fact, a subtle warmth emanated from the sea itself, seeping into my bones and easing an ache I hadn't noticed until now.
Sitting up carefully, I felt the water shift beneath me, supporting my weight without pulling me under. It was impossible, defying everything I knew about the world. Seas didn't behave like this;
My hands dipped into the liquid, and it parted smoothly, cool silk against my palms. No resistance, no chill that bit into the skin. Just... peace.
I scanned the horizon, or what passed for one. The sea stretched infinitely in every direction, a boundless expanse under that starlit sky. No land in sight, no distant lights of a city or the hum of traffic. Just stars, water, and the soft whisper of a breeze that tousled my hair. My heart quickened, not with fear exactly, but with a profound bewilderment. This wasn't right. This couldn't be real.
What happened to me? The question echoed in my thoughts, unanswered. I was Alex, that much I held onto. An orphan, or so the foggy memories told me. No parents to remember, no warm childhood home filled with laughter. Instead, there was my aunt—my mother's best friend from high school, a sharp, ambitious woman who ran a tech empire with the precision of a surgeon.
She'd adopted me when I was just a kid, pulling me into her world of glass offices and late-night board meetings.
Her name was Elena. Tall, with sharp green eyes and black hair always pulled back in a no-nonsense bun. She wasn't affectionate in the hugging, storybook way, but she provided—stability, education, a luxurious but lonely roof over my head that never felt quite like home but was better than the alternatives.
We lived in a sprawling penthouse overlooking the city skyline, all sleek lines and modern art that I never understood. And then there was her little sister, Lia. Four years younger than me, with a wild innocent spirit that clashed against Elena's polished demeanor.
Lia was the light in our otherwise structured life. Bubbly, with freckles across her nose and a laugh that could cut through the tension of Elena's endless calls. She trailed after me like a shadow, calling me 'big bro' even when I tried to shake her off. We'd spend evenings in the kitchen, her sneaking cookies while I pretended to study, Elena's voice drifting from her office like a distant storm. Those memories surfaced now, clearer than the rest, painting pictures of stolen moments amid the chaos.
University came next, a blur of lectures and late-night cram sessions. That's when I met her—Sarah. My girlfriend, with hair like spun gold and eyes that sparkled with quiet intelligence. She was beautiful, not in a flashy way, but with a warmth that drew people in. She fit seamlessly into our odd family. Dinners where Liia teased us relentlessly, Elena nodding approval over her wine glass, Sarah's hand slipping into mine under the table. It felt like the start of something solid, a happy future I could build on.
But then everything shattered. Elena's death hit like a thunderclap, sudden and merciless. One night, she was there—reviewing contracts, her voice steady as ever. The next, she was gone, struck down by some unknown force. Whispers of corporate sabotage, shadowy rivals, but no answers. The police called it an accident, a freak electrical surge in her office. I knew better. Her eyes in my mind's eye held secrets, warnings she never voiced.
The penthouse turned cold without her. Mia clung to me, her bravado cracking for the first time. Sarah was my anchor, her presence a balm against the grief. We married in a quiet ceremony, vowing to rebuild. For a while, it worked. I took over parts of Elena's company, using the skills I'd honed in school to steer it through the storm. Sarah by my side, Mia growing into her own under our watchful eyes. Laughter returned, tentative at first, then fuller.
Years slipped by, marked by small victories—Lia's graduation, quiet nights where Sarah's head rested on my shoulder. But fate, cruel and unrelenting, struck again. Sarah's illness came stealthily, Doctors spoke in hushed tones, treatments that promised hope but delivered only pain. She fought with the same grace she'd loved with, her hand in mine until the end. Watching her fade... it carved something hollow inside me.
Rage followed, a fire that consumed the emptiness. I swore revenge— for the life stolen from me. Clues emerged from the fog of my memories: connections to that 'unknown power,' whispers of hidden enemies pulling strings from the dark. I delved deep, alliances formed in smoke-filled rooms, risks taken that blurred the line between justice and madness.
Lia begged me to stop, her eyes pleading, but I couldn't. Not until it was done.
My death... it was unnatural, a blur of shadows and a final, searing pain. No car crash, no physical issues, yet.... That feeling of an end that felt orchestrated, leaving Lia alone in that echoing penthouse. Guilt twisted in my gut now, sharp and fresh. Had I abandoned her? The little girl who'd looked up to me, now facing the world without her anchors.
The memories swirled, incomplete and painful, I pressed my palms to my temples, willing clarity. Why couldn't I remember more? Why did it all feel like a half-forgotten story? The sea lapped gently at my sides, as if offering comfort, its midnight blue depths reflecting the stars above in a mesmerizing dance.
I stood slowly, testing my balance on the yielding water. It held firm, like walking on a cloud made liquid. The night sky stretched endlessly, constellations I didn't recognize wheeling overhead. A red moon, yet the light was ample, bathing everything in a silvery red sheen. A soft wind carried scents of jasmine and salt, stirring the water into gentle ripples that spread out from my feet.
This isn't Earth, the thought struck me, calm and observational. My old life had been grounded in logic—code that ran predictably, problems solved with data. But here, under this alien sky, logic bent.
I was level-headed by nature, emotions rarely surfacing on my face, a mask honed from years of loss. Even now, panic didn't rise; instead, curiosity bloomed, sharp and insistent.
I walked forward, each step sending faint waves outward, the sea adapting to my movement. The horizon remained elusive, a tease of infinity. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the slow pace of this place allowing thoughts to unfold without rush. I reflected on the women who'd shaped me—Elena's strength, Sarah's tenderness, Lia's fire. They were tethers to a past slipping away, yet their echoes lingered, fueling a quiet resolve.
The water grew shallower in my mind's eye, though it remained deep and endless. No, that was an illusion; it was the same all around. A faint glow appeared ahead, not from the stars, but from within the sea itself. Bioluminescent? Or something more? I approached cautiously, my observant nature cataloging details: the way the light pulsed softly, like a heartbeat; the absence of sound beyond the water's whisper.
As I drew nearer, a figure materialized from the gloom, emerging as if born from the sea's embrace. She stood there, poised on the water's surface with effortless grace, her presence commanding yet serene.
White hair cascaded down her back like fresh snow under moonlight, flowing in waves that caught the starlight and shimmered with an inner radiance. Two majestic black horns curved elegantly from her forehead, not menacing but regal, like a crown forged from obsidian.
Her eyes—crimson, deep and luminous—locked onto mine, holding a depth that pulled at my soul. They weren't cold; warmth flickered there, mingled with ancient wisdom. Her skin was pale, almost luminous, contrasting beautifully with the midnight blue water around us.
She wore a gown of flowing silk, dark as the sea yet edged with silver threads that danced like starfire. Full lips curved into a smile, gentle and knowing, as if she'd been expecting me all along.
Time seemed to still. The world narrowed to her gaze, that smile stirring something profound within me—a connection unspoken, yet undeniable.
"Who is she..."