She carved out her scales to save her fiancé's mother, only to be held down by him moments later for ten thousand gold pieces. Using a red-hot salt hook, he forcibly tore out her scales of gratitude, called her a demon, and threw her off Black Reef Cliff to be devoured by the tides. They forgot the merfolk blood curse: scales willingly given save lives, but scales forcibly ripped away bring death. On the first tide, the one saved by her would collect her body. On the second tide, the thugs who tore out her scales would turn into salt. On the third tide, the salt merchants who divided the spoils would suffer flesh-rotting corruption. Then it would be the turn of the man who had repeatedly sworn that he would marry no one but her. The demoness condemned by the entire village was, in fact, the only princess of the deep sea. The blind lighthouse keeper had long ago removed her hereditary lighthouse insignia and was already approaching with a lantern in hand, walking across the waves. Three tides to claim their lives. For every blood debt, she would make them repay the full price, with interest.