CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Esmeralda Bastian stood before Zahra, her figure silhouetted by the silver glow of the moonlight. She had planned to walk away, to let the inevitability of the selkie's death unfold without interference. Yet, as she turned, something inside her rebelled. Her legs refused to move, her chest tightened, and her breath caught in her throat.

The enchantress's resolve faltered as she watched Zahra, the young woman's frail body swaying unsteadily before crumpling to the ground. Against her own will, Esmeralda's arms shot forward, holding Zahra who paid in the, unforgiving sand.

Kneeling with the dying selkie in her arms, Esmeralda stared down at her. The fragile figure in her grasp burned a hole in her heart, a pain she hadn't felt in centuries. The bitterness that had sustained her all these years wavered, replaced by something far more agonizing—sympathy.

"Why?" Esmeralda whispered, her voice cracking as her eyes searched Zahra's pale face. "Why are you so willing to accept death? Why aren't you fighting?" Her tone was almost pleading, an uncharacteristic vulnerability seeping through her usually cold demeanour.

Zahra's head lolled against Esmeralda's arm, her breath shallow and laboured. She let out a faint, dry laugh, a sound so fragile it barely reached the enchantress's ears. "This was never a fight I could win," Zahra murmured, her lips barely moving.

"A fight I caused," Esmeralda muttered under her breath, her voice trembling with guilt.

Despite her weakness, Zahra's voice held a trace of warmth as she forced out her next words. "And yet... if not for this, I wouldn't have met Quil." Her lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile that only deepened the ache in Esmeralda's chest.

Esmeralda's jaw tightened. "And now you're dying because of it," she said, bitterness lacing her words. "Foolish child."

Zahra didn't respond with words. Instead, her trembling hand reached out and rested gently on Esmeralda's arm. The enchantress flinched at the unexpected touch, her breath hitching as she felt the faint, fading pulse of life beneath Zahra's fingers.

Closing her eyes, Esmeralda drew a shaky breath. Her magic hummed within her, powerful and untamed, and yet, as she looked down at the young woman clinging to the last shreds of life, she felt powerless. Slowly, she let some of her magic seep into Zahra, a feeble attempt to ease her pain, though she knew it wouldn't be enough.

"Zahra!" Quil's voice rang out across the beach, shattering the quiet tension like a thunderclap. The desperation in his cry was unmistakable, and it carried over the sounds of the crashing waves.

Zahra stirred at the sound, her eyes fluttering open. Though her vision was blurry, she turned her head toward Esmeralda, her voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing that can change your fate," Esmeralda replied, her voice low and heavy with resignation. "I want to hate you," she admitted, her gaze fixed on Zahra. "I want to despise you. But your stubborn will to live... it's maddeningly beautiful. I can't help but be drawn to it."

Before Zahra could respond, another voice cut through the night. "Get away from her!" Sam's shout was sharp and commanding. Zahra turned her head weakly, watching as Sam and the others sprinted toward them.

Esmeralda's lips curved into a wry smile. "How predictable," she murmured. Rising to her feet, she began to retreat, her form shimmering with magic. But before she vanished completely, she glanced down at Zahra, her voice barely audible over the wind. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Zahra's breath hitched as Esmeralda disappeared, leaving behind only the faint echo of her apology. She understood what it meant. The enchantress, for all her power, couldn't stop what was coming. Death was inevitable, even for her.

Quil reached Zahra's side moments later, falling to his knees and gathering her frail body into his arms. "I thought I lost you," he choked out, his voice trembling with relief and fear.

Zahra's heart clenched at the pain in his voice. She lifted a trembling hand to his, their fingers intertwining. "Quil," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Take me to the water."

He hesitated, his brow furrowing. "But—"

"It won't hurt me anymore," Zahra interrupted gently, her lips curving into a faint smile. "I promise."

Sharing a reluctant glance with the others, Quil nodded and scooped Zahra into his arms. Wading into the water, he moved slowly, the waves lapping at his waist as he carried her further into the ocean.

"Here," Zahra whispered, her head resting against his chest. "This is far enough."

Quil stopped, holding her carefully as the water swirled around them. Zahra lifted her hand to his cheek, her eyes locking onto his. "I love you," she said softly, her voice steady despite the tears glistening in her eyes.

Quil's breath hitched, a shaky smile tugging at his lips. "Zahra, I—"

She silenced him with a kiss, her lips brushing softly against his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world fading away until only the two of them remained.

"I love you, Quil," Zahra repeated, her voice unwavering despite the frailty of her body. Her eyes, though dim, shone with a clarity that seemed to pierce the very soul of the man holding her.

Quil's breath caught as he struggled to form words. His voice cracked under the weight of his emotions. "I love you more, Zahra," he whispered, his trembling hand cupping her face as if holding her could anchor her to him, to the life that was slipping away.

The moment stretched endlessly, suspended between their love and the inevitable. But then, the impossible began to unfold.

As Quil pulled back, his heart stopped at the sight before him. Zahra's body glimmered under the moonlight, her edges dissolving into shimmering tendrils of translucent foam. "No... no!" Quil's voice broke, raw with despair as he clutched at her, desperate to hold on. But his arms met nothing but air and the cool spray of the ocean.

The moonlight cast a silvery glow over the waves as they gently embraced what was left of Zahra. Her form blended seamlessly with the sea, her essence becoming one with the water she had been born from. The transformation was heartbreakingly beautiful, a final act of surrender to the ocean's eternal embrace.

A guttural cry tore from Quil's throat, the sound primal and filled with the weight of a love lost too soon. He fell to his knees, his hands plunging into the water as if he could retrieve her from the depths. His sobs echoed across the shore, a raw, unfiltered grief that pierced through the stillness of the night.

On the shore, the others watched in stunned silence. Sam, once so full of fire and determination, now stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his head bowed. Tears streamed freely down his face, and his usual stoicism shattered. The others—his brothers, his comrades—stood shoulder to shoulder, their expressions a mix of sorrow and helplessness as they bore witness to the loss of someone who had touched all their lives.

The waves lapped gently at the shore as if mourning alongside them. Zahra's loss was a wound shared by all, a void that stretched wide and deep. Yet amidst the grief, there was an unspoken understanding, a quiet acknowledgement of the peace that had settled over the sea.

Zahra had given everything—her love, her courage, her life. And in return, the ocean had welcomed her home. As the waves carried her essence farther into the horizon, they seemed to whisper a quiet promise: that she would not be forgotten, that her love would ripple through time like the tides themselves.

Quil remained kneeling in the water, his shoulders trembling as his sobs subsided into quiet anguish. The moonlight bathed him in its glow, highlighting the tears that streaked his face. He clutched at the space where Zahra had been, the memory of her touch still warm against his skin.

"I love you, Zahra," he murmured brokenly, his voice barely audible over the gentle roar of the sea.

And though she was gone, her presence lingered—a soft breeze that tousled his hair, the faint scent of salt and lilies that filled the air. The sea had claimed her, but her love remained, etched into the hearts of those she had left behind.

The others began to move, one by one, to stand behind Quil. They didn't speak; there was nothing to say. Instead, they stood in solidarity, their silent grief a testament to the bond they all shared with Zahra.

Quil's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, where the waves glittered under the moonlight. As the first light of dawn began to creep over the edge of the world, he felt a strange, fragile sense of calm. Zahra's love had been a beacon in his life, and though her physical presence was gone, the light she had given him would never fade.

For Zahra, the sea was not an end, but a continuation—a boundless expanse where she could be free. And for Quil, it was a reminder that even in the face of loss, love could endure, eternal and unyielding, like the ocean itself.