#agent seraphim

@the-roanoke-society

(x)

Perhaps it was the time of year that influenced Arroyo's decision. Or perhaps it was the way Morgan barely acknowledged him as they sat together that compelled Arroyo to take action.

Ondine had brought Morgan as she always did, but this time it was without warning. They had arrived yesterday, on the anniversary of his first wife's death. Ondine was almost frantic, trying to suppress her anxiety for her friend. Morgan was practically a husk, a faded version of herself that Arroyo had yet to witness. It was the worst he'd ever seen her and it had ignited the tiny spark inside him. A desire to make sure she would never experience this again.

Perhaps that was why he had ordered a room to be made up for Angela. He would not risk her leaving or interrupting. He fears she knows his intentions and would try to stop him.

“Morgan?” Arroyo spoke gently. He sat beside her as she randomly moved pieces around on the board game in front of her.

They hadn't been playing it. She had grabbed the game when they'd entered the room a few hours ago, but she just kept setting it up and moving pieces around. Then she would clear the board and start over. Arroyo had simply let her be, watching her as he wove a calming aura around her with the soft sound of his humming.

“Come with me, Morgan.” He spoke. He stood and offered his hand to her.

It was the usual time they would stop playing whatever game they'd chosen and take a walk along the shore.

She took his hand wordlessly, used to the routine of their time together. There were only subtle differences. The palace guards never followed them this closely. And Arroyo's daughter, Marise, had never joined them before.

The two of them, father and daughter, led Morgan into the water, only stopping when the waves reached her hips. They were near a drop off and Arroyo could feel the call from the depths. To drown her, to take her.

“Morgan.” He spoke softly, pulling her close so she could hear over the waves. “Do you trust me?”

The only response he received was a nod. It was enough.

So Marise began her song, to entrance Morgan. Arroyo's was too familiar. He used it on her too often, and Arroyo wanted her to feel no pain. He watched her closely, waiting as she began to show the signs of the song taking over her.

Once she was fully numb to everything, lost to the song and a happy memory trapping her in her mind, Arroyo carefully wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You will never feel this way again.” He whispered.

Arroyo dragged her under. He felt her body tense and then she went limp in his embrace. Her body gave in to the song, the melodies of Marise combined with the call from the depths. He felt Morgan's bones break and reform as he held her, pulled her down deeper. Her tail formed, taking on a similar shape to his. It was the color of white starlight, iridescent in the moonlight. As the transformation continued, markings similar to his own appeared in shades of purple.

Only after it was finished, as she rested peacefully in his arms , did Arroyo have doubts. He should have allowed her to decide when she was herself again, not when her mind was clouded. He should have let her choose, truly choose this.

It was too late to undo it.

He took her to the Pearl Palace, a place she had visited several times before. And there he waited by her side until she came back to the waking world. He watched as she took in her new form, her new reality. Her eyes, her beautiful eyes, looked so confused.

“What did you do?” She asked. “You...you tricked me.”