It would have been easy to quietly live out his twilight years in humiliation, but that was not what the king did. With the loyal followers who had been banished along with him, the king founded a new kingdom in the land of their exile and so Inoon was born.

Their island was truly blessed, a natural fortress with bounty enough to ensure no man would go hungry. They could even manage some modest trade with the outside world when it suited them. Inooni indigo and pearls were among the best in the world. it was said.

After several generations of intermarriage, there was no division between the newcomers from Baalzabul and the original islanders. All were Inooni. They were one people and they served one god.

The first king had been forsaken by the god of this fathers, so he turned his worship to great Dagon, god of the sea and plenty. This island and its bounty were his blessing and so the people of Inoon devoted themselves to him that they might continue to abide in his blessing. They were in need of it now more than ever.

An underground grotto served as their temple and a tide pool their altar. The King himself was their high priest, dressed in a white robe with a crown of coral on his head. Over his heart was a plate of beaten gold etched with the emblem of the eight-pointed star. Embedded in each point was a white pearl and at each intersection of the lines a black pearl, eight and eight.

The King stepped into the waters carrying a girl also dressed in white with eight strings of the finest pearls around her neck. She was made to sleep by a concoction of herbs so that she would not disturb the ceremony. The sacrifices knew their duty, but when faced with the depths, mortal terror could make their spirits weak. A spoiled offering was an insult to their god and invited his wrath. The sacrifices were not to be slain beforehand, but at least they could sleep until they were welcomed into Dagon's embrace.

The King lowered the girl into the water. Her many ornaments of gold weighed down her body and she sank down into the darkness below.

Lifting up his hands, the King cried out in a loud voice, "Hear me, O Dagon! Praised be your name! Your people cry out to you in one voice! Hear our prayer! With this offering of a maiden pure, incline your ear to the voice of your people! O Lord Dagon, hear the cry of your servant!"

Most times there would be no answer, but so long as the offering was not returned to them, it was believed that they found favor in Dagon's sight. However, it was not so this day.

This day a light shone in the darkness and the waters began to churn. What emerged from the waters had the shape of a man, but it was no man. He wore a breastplate of scales like pearl and a skirt to match. No, it was no skirt but rather the living tail of a fish. In his hand was a rod of bronze and on his brow a crown of bronze. Truly the King of the Sea and Lord of the Depths.

The King bowed low. Normally it would be more suitable to prostrate yourself before a god, but that could not be done so easily standing waist-deep in water. The great Lord Dagon was merciful, however. He searched the heart and knew the men who called on his name not merely in word but in truth. Those who were gathered at the edge of the waters threw themselves down on their faces, so that was enough.

The Lord Dagon opened his mouth to speak, saying, "I have heard my people's cry. There is mourning in the land and the wailing of my people has reached my ears. What would you ask of me?"

The King replied, "O Lord Dagon, you know our hearts. You—"

It would seem that the King faced peril at either turn. How could a mortal look upon a god face-to-face and live? Surely no more than you could disobey a god and live. The King decided to trust his life to obedience.

The King straightened himself back up and looked upon his god. The Lord Dagon appeared neither gentle nor severe, rather as if he could readily dole out either mercy or punishment depending on how the King and his people comported themselves.

The Lord Dagon repeated his question.

The King bowed his head and lifted up his hands, saying, "My lord, surely you know that our enemies press against us. This land which you have blessed us with cannot protect us forever, not if you should withdraw your mighty hand. We pray that you deliver us from our enemies. I, even I, have offered up my own beloved daughter, a virgin pure, flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood. Deliver us, Lord Dagon, we pray!"

The Lord Dagon was silent for some time before speaking again.

If the words of Lord Dagon were not enough, the King said, "Come, my children. All who are for our Lord Dagon, come into the waters."

And so the King could hear the sound of the worshippers entering the waters. He did not look to see for himself, but rather remained in his pose of supplication.

The Lord Dagon then said, "Receive the blessing of Dagon. Receive on your flesh the mark of my children that you might be saved."

It was difficult to describe what happened next. The waters were cool, so there was already some loss of sensation, but it felt like the King had no legs at all for a moment and when that moment passed he was left with an unusual feeling. He could not help but look down at himself and see that he now had a fish tail instead of legs, just as the Lord Dagon himself. He looked to the people who had entered the waters and saw that the same thing had happened to them.

The people raised their voices in kind, crying, "Praise to Dagon! King of the Sea and Lord of the Depths!"

The Lord Dagon nodded approvingly, saying, "May you be true to your word, now and in the generations that come after you. Abide in me and I shall abide in you. My blessings go with you, my children."

The Lord Dagon sank into the waters. Slowly the light faded and the waters stilled. Keeping his head bowed low, the King withdrew. It was strange moving about with his newly transformed body, but when he pulled himself out of the pool and the air dried the fish tail, he reverted to his original form, as did all the others who had returned to dry land. Even though it had only been a matter of moments, his legs now felt as strange to him as the fish tail had been. Perhaps the day would come, and soon, when the land would seem less like home than the water.

It was a wonder, but at very least, he had won his people a refuge. It was a dear price he had paid, but he did what he had to do for his people's sake. He fulfilled his duty as King, just as his daughter fulfilled hers. It would be enough.