🗡️ Rael – Lady Tanee

In Ayothaya’s moonlit jungles, beneath vines heavy with fruit and sin, walked Rael — Assassin Cross, black-hearted, soft-spoken, hired to kill the serpent goddess known as Lady Tanee. But the job turned to music before blood.

Chapter I — The Orchard of Whispers

Rael moved like the wind between bamboo and root, Cloaking wrapped around him like a second skin. The orchard breathed; every leaf exhaled her scent. He saw her first among the vines, feeding a wounded monkey with her palm. Her skin glowed faintly with gold, eyes deep and patient like river stones. She smiled before he drew his blade. “You hunt me, shadow. Sit instead. The fruit is ripe.”

He should have struck, but her voice was soft honey. She spoke of balance — of poison turned to nectar, of death’s patience. He found himself telling her about the sins tattooed into his daggers, how each mark was a debt. Her laughter cracked the night like falling rain. “Perhaps I’ll buy your debts,” she whispered, and plucked a fruit that shimmered with venom. “Taste and be mine.”

Chapter II — The Beach of Forgetting

Days later they rested where the jungle met the sea. A long crescent beach of white sand held the horizon like a secret. Lady Tanee floated on the surf’s edge, her silk dress fanning like petals. Rael sat nearby sharpening his dagger but watching her reflection ripple instead.

He could have been happy there — a killer remade into a listener. She asked about the skills that once made men fear him. He showed her Sonic Blow, carving air into thunder; Grimtooth, which sliced shadow itself; and the subtle pulse of Enchant Deadly Poison that gave steel its soul. She touched the poison vial at his belt and smiled. “Your craft is devotion.”

That night, they drank from the same flask and spoke of leaving Ayothaya behind — of a quiet inn in Alberta, of a life with no contracts and no corpses. He never noticed that his reflection in the surf no longer had eyes.

Chapter III — The Serpent’s Heart

When dawn came, he woke to a silence too still. Lady Tanee knelt beside him, her hand tracing his cheek. “You dream loudly, assassin,” she said. He smiled, unaware of the shadow writhing in her gaze. She stood, and the sand beneath her feet turned to petals that pulsed with life.

“You loved me,” she whispered. “And that love will bloom where you fall.” Her palm glowed — Leaf Tornado, the spell she favored, twisted around them. He drew his dagger, Cloaking flickering, but she saw through it. “I was never your prey,” she said, eyes wide now with the calm of a goddess. “I was the one who called you here.”

He lunged — Soul Destroyer ignited with dark flame — but she caught the strike in bare hands. Vines burst through the sand, binding him midair. “Your poison was too pure,” she said gently. “And purity belongs to me.”

Finale — The Fruit and the Fang

He tried to speak, but the vines filled his lungs with perfume. Her fingers rested on his lips as if quieting a child. “I did love you,” she whispered, “but I love my forest more.” She pressed the same shimmering fruit against his mouth. It melted like wine. Every heartbeat slowed into music. The tide crept closer.

When the waves reached him, the vines retracted, leaving no mark but the small serpent symbol burned on the sand beside his body. Lady Tanee watched until the water covered him, then turned toward the jungle, her steps light as prayer. The trees bent in greeting. The sea forgot his name.

But sometimes, when lightning rolls over Ayothaya, travelers swear they see a man’s shadow in the surf — daggers drawn, eyes soft with devotion — and a voice from the jungle whispering back: “Sleep, assassin. You are part of the garden now.”