Let me tell you a story…

Once there was a merman who decided he wanted to go on land. He loved the sea, it had always been his home, but the world above intrigued him. So he went, leaving his home and his family behind, and traveled far and wide. He met new people, learned new things, spoke new languages, all of which he was eager to bring back to his own people, along with the tales of his travels. 

One day, the merman was walking along the beach when he saw a young woman sitting on a large boulder. He had seen many beautiful women, but this one surpassed them all. He fell in love with her in an instant, and resolved to be with her. That resolve was strengthened when he first reached out his hand to hers, and upon taking it, a soul connection was established. This human woman, it turns out, was his fated mate.

His soulmate.

However, the woman, being a human, did not fully understand the significance of this bond and, after several months together, she left the merman to enter the arms of another man.

The merman was devastated, the betrayal wounding him deeply, the pain it caused nearly unbearable. He returned to the sea, broken hearted and alone.

Sadly, the man the woman left him for was not who he had led her to believe himself to be. He was a terrible man who used and abused the woman, and one day, in a fit of jealous rage, killed the woman, severing the link between her and the merman forever.

The merman felt the loss immediately, the pain burning through his body like an underwater lava flow. For years he suffered, his agony driving him to near madness. Finally, in desperation, he returned to land and traveled deep into the mountains, his pain his only companion.

He reached a place far from shore, one he did not expect to see so far from the water. It was a temple to Poseidon, the god he served. 

“What is a temple to a sea god doing so far in the mountains?” he asked no one in particular. He walked slowly through the magnificent structure, admiring the beautiful decor, the marble floors, the grand pillars, and the beautiful flora that adorned the roof, walls, and tables.

But it was what he saw at the end of the temple that made him stop, his eyes wide in wonder. Before him, atop an altar with runes etched into the stone, sat a large basin made from volcanic glass. It was stunning, he thought. The hidden colors rich and beautiful under the dark veneer, gleaming when the sunlight hit it just right. 

Within the basin, a large blue Flame sat, surrounded by waves of red energy that sparked every now and then. The Flame was calm, serene, yet the merman could feel its immense power, felt the pulse of its energy radiate through his body, and he was driven to his knees, bowing in supplication to the Flame, for he knew in that moment what it was he had unexpectedly found.

It was the Flame of Poseidon. A living, sentient being in elemental form waiting to become flesh.

It was a child born from the Sea God himself.

The merman began to pray, offering his apologies for stumbling upon so great a being as he was unworthy to gaze upon. And yet, since this child was a direct link to Poseidon, he felt it within him to ask a favor.

“Please, Lord Poseidon, God of the seas and Master of my soul. I pray you, take away this endless pain I carry deep within me. Relieve me of my suffering, and I shall do for you whatever you desire.”

He wept bitterly, repeating the prayer, begging for mercy, his tears becoming a pool beneath him. 

When it seemed like his god would not respond, that the Flame before him had little interest in his pleas, he made one final request:

“I have lost my fated mate, the woman I so loved and cherished with all of me. If you were to give me another to love, one to care for and cherish as I did her, I would remain in your debt for eternity. Oh, my great Lord, spare your servant and grant his heart’s one desire!”

With those final words, the Flame burst into life, its fingers grazing the ceiling and walls, its red energy a spiral that raced around it like a halo, lightning shooting from within its violent core.

The merman covered his head, shaking with terror, fearing he had angered the sea god by asking for something greater than he deserved. The Flame would consume him for his hubris; he felt that in his heart. With a heavy heart, he pleaded for forgiveness, accepting he had reached too high in his wants.

“Servant of Poseidon,” a woman’s voice said. “Raise your head, for your lord has heard you.”

The merman did as he was told, and he was awestruck once more to see a beautiful woman, a mermaid, floating above the Flame, her tail consumed in red flames. She had blue hair like his, blue eyes like his, and the scales that covered her body were a glorious, shimmering blue. She was the most beautiful mermaid the merman had ever seen, and he felt just as unworthy to gaze upon her as he did the Flame she was connected to.

His soul quaked for he knew this mermaid, and his tears fell once more. She was the goddess Sarath, one of Poseidon’s many wives, and the mother of his very tribe. 

“My goddess, forgive me for my impudence!” he sobbed. “I only wish to divest myself of this neverending pain. My soul burns day and night and I have no reprieve.”

“You have suffered the permanent loss of the one fated for you,” Sarath intoned. “This is a natural response to such an end.”

“I know this, my lady,” he cried. “But I cannot bear it any longer. If it goes on, I shall surely die by my own hand.”

The goddess gazed down at him and she felt pity in her heart for this wretched creature. Her husband, too, felt his distress and pitied him. Together, they decided to grant the merman’s wish.

“You come to my lord selflessly and with great love within you,” she said. “For this reason, we shall give you what you ask. In return, you will ensure that which we bless you with will serve no other but his father, Poseidon. When the time comes for him to meet his mate, you will not interfere and you will accept it with a glad heart. For the love he will have for his fated mate will be true and unyielding.”

The merman nodded vigorously. “Yes, my lady, as you wish it!” he declared.

“Very well.” She extended her hand to him and he took it. In an instant, he felt all the pain he had known for many years leave his body, setting his soul free once more. She then held both hands out to the Flame. The being began to spin in on itself, returning to the Divine core it once was before it became two separate beings; one a smaller, less powerful version of the Flame that had blazed before him, and the other the loveliest mermaid’s egg the merman had ever laid eyes upon.

“I give you the son of Poseidon and the Flame from whence he was born,” she intoned, the egg resting safely in his hands. “In the years to come, you will return to this place with the Flame which belongs to this child alone. No other will wield it, or they will surely die.”

The merman took both gifts with a glad heart and thanked her many times over. The goddess touched the egg one last time, bestowing upon the unborn child knowledge he would not gain for many years when he met his soulmate and became fully bonded to him.

And so the goddess vanished and the merman returned home to his village in the sea, free of pain, his heart filled with love, and his soul patiently awaiting the day when the son he was given would be born into the world as his own.

**

Colin stared at Scott unblinking, the angel leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest.

“You’re telling me that story is about Coby?”

“That story is at least five or six centuries old,” Scott said. “I’ve heard it told all over the world in many different versions, but the end result is the same. A goddess gives some poor pitiful bastard an egg and a relic, and they return home with both.”

“That Flame has been in the Sarathian city for at least two or three hundred years,” Colin said. “Coby’s nineteen.”

“And?”

Colin stood up straighter, arms falling to his sides. 

“You can’t keep putting human logic to magic, babe,” Scott said with a tiny smirk. “It’s just going to give you a migraine.”

Colin rolled his eyes to the ceiling, exhaling slowly. “So,” he said, scratching his neck. “Coby isn’t a merman. Not really.”

“Nope.”

“Then what the hell is he exactly?”

Scott’s fingers dug deep into his arm. “He’s a goddamn demigod.”

“He’s a what?”

“And the second he awakens, we are incredibly, royally fucked.”

“Why?”

“Because, my dearest one,” Scott said, pushing off the wall and making his way slowly toward Colin. “He isn’t just any demigod, he’s the one of equal parts love and wrath. Which means…” he clenched his fists at his sides, blood pooling in his palms. “I can’t kill Ash.”

“The fuck you can’t,” Colin snorted, pulling Scott into his arms. “We’re still going to kill the little cunt if it's the last thing we do.”

“If we do, Co-Bieasah will come after us and fucking obliterate me, Colin.”

“Just like that angel in the field?” Colin asked, his stomach doing a somersault. 

Scott shook his head. “The fact you remember it was an angel at all tells me Coby didn’t obliterate him. Just turned him to ash and dust. No different than the grease spot he left with that feral demon in the warehouse.” He gulped, letting Colin’s warmth surround him. “He’ll do so much worse to me. Obliteration is absolutely final, Colin. No second chances. Do you have any idea what that means?” Scott buried his face in Colin’s chest, his fingers curling around his shirt. “It means if I die, I’ll never reincarnate, I’ll never get to be with you again.” He swallowed hard. “It means…you’ll forget all about me the second I’m gone.”

Colin stiffened. “That won’t happen,” he said, his voice a rumble in his chest. He took Scott’s chin in his fingers, tilting his face up so the angel met his gaze. “Because we’re going to kill him first.”

Scott’s expression softened, his eyes shining with affection for his lover. “Provided Sy-Ohna doesn’t kill him first.”

“If he does, all the better.” Colin lowered his head, his lips hovering just over Scott’s. “That means we can kill Ash without having to worry about the little freak.”

Scott’s arms went around Colin’s neck, his body pressing closer to his. “Then pray the massive bastard wins.”

Colin lifted Scott up, wrapping the angel’s legs around his waist. “I only pray to you.”

Scott held Colin’s face in both hands, nuzzling his nose. “Then you should get on your knees and start praying, baby.”

**