It was twilight when the Kingdom of Acadae fell, the walls of its capital overrun by a deadly combination of plague and war. Arissia still remembered how the castle walls crumbled as though they were made of paper, and how the bodies of those who had died of the plague were scattered in the streets like the husks of dead insects. Her father the King told her to flee through the tunnels, and so she did, alone and half-blind with fear, until she emerged by the sea.

She looked out at the waters, and that was when she saw him: a dark shadow, a ghostly apparition. He was cloaked in black, as though he came from the night itself. His hair, damp with seafoam, was as light as the moon, and his skin was a pale alabaster. He was tall and slender, moving with effortless grace. Arissia stared at him in both wonder and fear. The man stepped onto the shore, making nary a sound as his feet sunk into the sand. His lips quirked in what was almost a smile, though there was an odd emptiness in his eyes.

He bowed and introduced himself. When he spoke, his voice was as gentle as a summer breeze, though its tone was laced with a sense of foreboding. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Rien. What brings you here, to this shore?"

"I am Arissia of Acadae," Arissia began. "My kingdom..." she broke off. Her throat felt thick with impending tears.

Rien roved his eyes over the dead wilderness. In the distance the flames of the burning city cast red shadows across the land. "I see. Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No...my father told me to escape, but..."

"It will be dangerous," said Rien quietly, his eyes still gazing out at the burning city. "There is no place for a fallen kingdom's princess. I will accompany you."

Rien offered his hand, and Arissia hesitantly took it. His skin was cool, his palm smooth, as though it were made of glass. Not knowing what else to do, she followed him on a journey without a destination.

Yet no matter where they went, the landscape was dreary and lifeless. The few habitations they passed were abandoned, seemingly for many years—though that did not make sense to Arissia, who remembered her homeland being a vibrant place, full of joy, life, and greenery.

As time passed, the temperature dropped further. The scraggly birds and weedy plants that Arissia fed upon became less and less frequent. As each day passed, Arissia felt the emptiness of her stomach grow stronger, until she began to feel faint and weak. The frost nipped at her fingers, and the cold seeped into her bones.

One day, on a day when Arissia felt very weak and hungry and tired, Rien took her back to the beach where they first met. The sea was a cold gray that reflected the desolate sky. The waves gently lapped on the shore, leaving dark impressions behind as the foam melted into the sand.

"It would be nice, wouldn't it?" said Rien, his voice soft.

"What would be?" Arissia asked. She felt very cold now.

Rien gazed out at the ocean, his light eyes distant. He swept his arm out across the sea. "To fall asleep here, within the water.