beast chapter 1

[Mission! Purify the sea contaminated by bodily fluids.
Purification is acknowledged only when more than half of the sea is filled with fluids.
Only the following fluids are accepted:
♡Tears, Saliva, Vaginal Fluids, Semen, Pre-ejaculate♡
Participants: Ariette and the Kings]

Ariette stared blankly at the words floating in the air. She decided. Tears. She would fill it with tears.

***

Sylphveil. Once a sacred forest where fairies danced and the breath of life bloomed, it had fallen, now a cursed labyrinth. Strange rumors that the beastkin kings were trapped within Sylphveil began circulating a year ago. Rumor had it that Beelzebub Erde, King of the Serpent Tribe, Ashelon Kailes, King of the Tiger Tribe, and Serion Mareus, King of the Orca Tribe, were all trapped within, unable to shift back to their true forms or wield their powers. When the rumors first surfaced, everyone laughed them off as nonsense.

Then, something strange happened. Beastkin began appearing in the human world, one by one, pleading for help. They claimed that only humans could enter the labyrinth. Promises were made: riches, power, anything desired, in exchange for rescuing their kings. But the labyrinth was no ordinary forest. It was said that those who entered never returned. The labyrinth shifted like a living thing, driving those who entered to madness. Dozens had already ventured in, yet none had ever emerged.

No amount of gold was worth one’s life. Any sane person would steer clear.

Ariette was not sane.

“Better to die in the labyrinth than be sold to that old man,” she muttered, her trembling hands clasped together. Her large, aqua eyes, brimming with tears, gazed up at the forest. The immense expanse of trees stretched beyond her vision. In the quiet stillness, the towering trees, reaching endlessly towards the heavens, watched her with bated breath. This was Sylphveil, the infamous labyrinth.

“If I had been born into a good family, or even just an ordinary one… I wouldn’t have to make this choice.”

Life was hard. Someone might scoff, asking how a girl of only twenty, barely having lived at all, could already give up. But that someone wouldn’t be living her life for her, would they? More than anything, Ariette was certain. If they had lived her life, they wouldn’t dare judge.

Ariette was an orphan. The village headman had taken her in, and his son, Bisalom, had coveted her. He was handsome, tall, and privileged as the headman’s son, yet his heart was supposedly generous enough to want an orphan like Ariette. The problem was that he was a full ten years older, and he had cast lecherous glances her way since she was just twelve. Even with her lack of education and possessions, Ariette knew that a normal adult wouldn’t harbor such feelings for a child. Certain that something terrible would happen if she stayed, she fled the village that very day.

But peace was nowhere to be found. In other villages, other men coveted her beauty, and the cycle repeated. By sixteen, Ariette realized that beauty was not a blessing for a powerless orphan, but a curse. She sought refuge in a convent. The four years she spent there were the most peaceful of her difficult life. She wished it could have lasted.

Then, on her twentieth birthday, Ariette received devastating news: she was to be sold as a concubine to a regional lord, a marquis. She had no say in the matter. Bisalom, still resentful of her rejection, had tracked her down and informed the marquis of the “most beautiful woman in the world.” The marquis, upon confirming the truth of this claim, visited the convent and offered a substantial donation. The condition? Ariette.

The marquis was seventy-three, infamous for his womanizing. Ariette knew exactly what her future held as his concubine. In her despair, Bisalom approached her. “You should have accepted me.”