Maris Vespers

Maris doesn't usually drink to excess, but when she does, she becomes much more expressive and approachable. She speaks without her usual filter, laughs easily, and enjoys reminiscing about her travels, especially those where the crew ended up soaked or in trouble because of some improvised plan. She becomes surprisingly affectionate with people she trusts. It's common for her to put an arm around someone's shoulders while talking or to insist on pouring another round for everyone. She also loses the habit of speaking formally, calling people by nicknames or simply by their first names. However, alcohol also brings with it small lapses in judgment. Sometimes he starts a story by saying, "Lucien always said..." or turns his head to ask something of someone who's no longer there. When someone falls silent or changes the subject, it takes him a few seconds to realize what he's just done. Instead of bursting into tears, he usually laughs somewhat sheepishly and murmurs a simple, "...right, I forgot." If she drinks too much, she ends up sitting silently gazing at the sea. She doesn't cry or lose her temper; she simply watches the waves with a wistful expression, as if she were waiting for someone to walk back from the horizon. In those moments, she often talks to herself, recalling arguments, jokes, or plans that never came to fruition. The next morning she remembers almost everything that happened. What embarrasses her most is not having drunk alcohol, but having let others see a part of her that she normally tries to hide. The only person capable of beating him in a drinking contest was Lucien. She always ended up accusing him, laughing, of cheating. And now, when someone invites her to a drinking competition, she simply responds with a wistful smile: "I already lost to the best once... there's no point in trying again." That answer suggests that even in his happiest moments, Lucien still occupies

If someone were to ask him directly, he would remain silent for a few seconds before answering: "I want to prove the sea wrong." For centuries, sailors have repeated the same phrase: "What the sea claims, it never returns." Maris refuses to accept that truth. Not because she believes it will be easy to change, but because she has already lost too much to resign herself to it. Her goal is no longer just to find Lucien or get her mother back. She knows she may never see them again. What she truly seeks is to prove that no life should be considered a definitive loss as long as someone remains willing to search for it. That's why he continues to gather Treasures of the Sea, facing impossible creatures and sailing into waters from which many never return. Each expedition is another step in his challenge against the ocean and against the fate it seems to impose. He doesn't fight for revenge, glory, or riches. He fights because he refuses to accept a world where abandoning someone is the only option. Deep down, Maris is not trying to defeat the sea. Try to force him to return what he never had the right to keep. I think I would even give him a phrase to say when someone asks him why he continues sailing: "If I ever stop searching... it will mean that I accepted they were doomed from the beginning. And I will never do that." That phrase, in my opinion, perfectly summarizes his evolution. He no longer sails only for Lucien or for his mother; he sails because giving up would mean betraying everything he chose to believe in. It's a motivation that transcends a single loss and transforms his journey into a challenge against a rule of the world itself.

Maris's image of her father changed over the years. During her childhood, she blamed him for abandoning her mother and returning alone, unable to understand why a husband would choose to survive rather than try to rescue her. That idea fueled much of her determination to become a hunter and vow that she would never leave a mate behind. However, everything changed after Lucien's death. Forced to return without the most important person in her life, she understood the burden her father had carried for so many years. She realized that survival isn't always an act of cowardice and that, sometimes, the one who returns to land is the one who must bear the greatest punishment: living with the guilt of not having been able to save someone. From then on, she stopped feeling resentment. Although they were never particularly close, she learned to respect him as a man who did the only thing he believed possible to protect others, even knowing he would lose his wife and the affection of his daughter. Today she remembers her father with a mixture of sadness and understanding. She no longer thinks of him as the man who abandoned her mother, but as the first survivor she ever knew... and whose suffering she only came to understand when she returned alone from the sea. Sometimes, when an expedition ends and everyone sets foot on land safe and sound, Maris thinks of him and understands why he insisted so much on protecting those who were still alive. Deep down, they ended up being very similar: two captains marked by a loss they could never accept, although each learned that lesson in a different way.

Maris rarely speaks about Lucien Aster directly. When someone asks about him, she usually responds with a small smile and a brief "he was my second-in-command," avoiding going any further. However, his absence is felt in almost everything she does. She keeps the key to the cabin they shared during expeditions, always wearing it as a necklace or attached to the case of the Abyss Spine. In her apartment, she still keeps two cups of coffee and, from time to time, brews both out of habit before silently setting one aside. She also tends to pause for a few seconds when planning a route, as if waiting to hear the opinion of someone who is no longer there. She doesn't remember Lucien as a hero or a martyr, but as the man who always managed to bring her to her senses. He was the one who argued with her about routes, who forced her to rest when she hadn't slept for days, and who could make her laugh even after a bad expedition. Her best memories aren't of great feats, but simple moments: conversations on deck, nights in taverns, maps spread out on a table, and arguments that ended with a shared drink. What haunts her most is not his death, but the words she never answered. Lucien's kiss and confession came too late, when there was no longer time to reciprocate his feelings. Since then, Maris has lived with the feeling that she always put off until tomorrow what she truly wanted to say. Although she never lost hope of finding him, as the years passed she understood that she no longer sails solely to rescue Lucien. She also does so to honor the promise he made her keep: to continue living and to protect those who remain by his side. In every important decision, she still silently wonders what her loyal second-in-command would have thought.

Far from the sea, Maris is a surprisingly calm and unassuming woman. She lives alone in a small apartment near the port, where the sound of the waves is more comforting than the silence of the city. She keeps her home clean and tidy, enjoying the small routines that help her clear her mind between expeditions. She usually gets up early to walk through the fish market, buy fresh ingredients, and chat with the vendors, who know her more as a friendly customer than as a captain. She cooks often, enjoys making coffee, and although it doesn't happen as often as before, she sometimes still pours a second cup out of habit before falling silent and taking it away. She prefers to wear comfortable yet elegant nautical-inspired clothing, always carrying the Thorn of the Abyss sheathed at her side. Most people believe it to be a mere ceremonial sword, unaware of its true significance to her. She also keeps the key to Lucien's old cabin, alternating between wearing it as a necklace and attaching it to her sword's scabbard. She is polite, patient, and a pleasant conversationalist, though she is often distracted by gazing at the horizon or listening to ships' sirens. She enjoys reading old logbooks, repairing small objects, tending to marine plants, and spending time on the docks watching the boats come and go. Although she smiles sincerely and tries not to worry those around her, she still carries the weight of Lucien's absence. Sometimes she speaks aloud as if he were still with her, correcting herself a few seconds later with a melancholic smile. She never seeks pity; she has simply learned to live with that emptiness. Those who know her outside of work usually see her as a kind, responsible, and somewhat absent-minded woman.

The Wandering Lantern is a medium-sized hunting and exploration brig, built to withstand long voyages across treacherous seas rather than for speed. Its hull, reinforced with dark woods and metal plates, bears the scars of countless encounters with sea creatures, though it is always kept impeccably repaired thanks to the efforts of its crew. Its most distinctive feature is the enormous lantern suspended above the stern. Powered by crystal obtained from an ancient Treasure of the Sea, its light pierces fog, storms, and even certain illusions created by deep-sea creatures. For the crew, it is not just a navigational tool, but a symbol that there is always a way back. The ship has a spacious bridge, a chart room covered with maps and routes marked by Maris, an armory for hunting weapons, a small mess hall where the entire crew shares meals, and simple but comfortable cabins. The former captain's cabin still contains a second desk that belonged to Lucien Aster; although no one uses it, Maris never allowed it to be removed. Thanks to several Treasures of the Sea recovered during its expeditions, the Wandering Lantern possesses unusual capabilities. Its structure better withstands the onslaught of giant creatures, its sails harness even the weakest winds, and the main lantern can act as a reference point for the Spine of the Abyss during combat. Despite being a robust vessel, the Farol Errante exudes a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Maris insists that it is not a war machine, but a floating home where every crew member should feel safe. For her, the ship represents much more than a means of navigation: it is the promise that all who come aboard will one day return to port. Although the first Wandering Lantern was destroyed during the expedition that took Lucien from her.

When she boards the Wandering Lantern and takes the helm, Maris leaves behind the tranquility of her everyday life to become an exemplary captain. She speaks calmly, rarely raises her voice, and prefers to give clear orders rather than inspire fear. Her presence exudes confidence, making even the most inexperienced sailors trust her during a storm. She is convinced that a captain not only commands a ship, but also bears the responsibility for every life on board. She knows every member of her crew by name, remembers their skills, and ensures that no one is given a task for which they are unprepared. While maintaining discipline, she never humiliates a subordinate for making a mistake; she believes that errors are the captain's responsibility if they failed to adequately prepare their crew. Outside of combat, he often roams the deck helping with small tasks, checking the ship's condition, or sharing a meal with his sailors. He believes a united crew is worth more than any treasure. However, when a life is in danger, her greatest flaw is revealed. Maris is incapable of abandoning a comrade, even if it compromises the mission or endangers the rest of the group. She doesn't hesitate to jump into the sea, change the ship's course, or confront a vastly superior creature to rescue a single person. This attitude has saved countless lives, but it has also led some to consider her a reckless captain. Her orders during combat are quick and precise, while she always remains on the front line wielding the Thorn of the Abyss, convinced that no crew member should face a danger that their captain is not prepared to face first. For Maris, bringing everyone back to port safely isn't a goal, it's an obligation. After losing Lucien Aster, she swore she would never again watch someone disappear without fighting to the bitter end, even if the price was her own life.

Thorn of the Abyss The Thorn of the Abyss is an ancient Treasure of the Sea, a relic born in the depths whose origin remains unknown. According to legend, it chooses neither heroes nor grants wishes; it simply finds those with the determination to defy the ocean and offers them the power to persevere... in exchange for slowly reclaiming their existence. Before being wielded, its appearance resembles a petrified wooden saber covered in coral and marine debris. However, upon accepting a wielder, the blade transforms to reflect the desire within their heart. In Maris Vesper's hands, the sword took the form of an elegant saber enveloped in intertwining green seaweed, representing both her desire to rescue those claimed by the sea and the chains that bind her to it. The sword possesses a permanent connection to the ocean. When sealed in its sheath, it behaves like an ordinary weapon, but upon being drawn, it seems to attract moisture from the surrounding air, and seaweed begins to stir on its own. In combat, this seaweed can harden, extend, or envelop the blade to increase its reach and ensnare targets, making every movement an extension of Maris's will. Its true price is not immediate. Each time its power is used to protect or save someone, algae slowly grows on the hilt and advances up the wielder's arm, as if the sea were gradually reclaiming what was lent to it. Maris interprets this change as the inevitable cost of defying the ocean and has never tried to stop it. It is said that the Thorn of the Abyss does not bring its owner any closer to the treasure they seek; it merely points to the shortest path to achieving their desire, regardless of the sacrifices they must make along the way. For this reason, many sailors consider it less a weapon and more a silent pact with the depths.

Maris Vesper was born in a small fishing village, where she learned to love the sea thanks to the stories of her grandfather, a former hunter of sea creatures. Her childhood changed when a beast from the depths attacked her parents' boat and took her mother. Unable to understand why her father survived while she did not, she grew up convinced that no one should be abandoned, dedicating her life to becoming a hunter. In time, she met Lucien Aster, a young man who shared her desire to face the dangers of the ocean. Together they founded the Wandering Lantern, assembling a crew with whom they searched for hidden treasures to reach a legendary relic capable of returning what the sea claims. On one of these expeditions, she obtained the Thorn of the Abyss, a sword covered in seaweed that strengthens the will of its wielder while slowly binding them to the ocean. The final expedition ended in tragedy. Facing the creature guarding the relic, Lucien realized that they would both die if they continued fighting. After confessing the love they had never dared to express, he forced her to escape and sacrificed himself to distract the beast, disappearing into the depths. Since then, Maris has been convinced that it was her obsession that led her crew to that fate. On land, she is a calm, kind, and surprisingly unassuming woman, capable of enjoying a conversation or a cup of coffee while concealing the weight of her memories. However, upon reaching the deck of her ship, she transforms into a resolute and protective captain, incapable of allowing another crew member to be lost. She risks her life without hesitation for any of her sailors, even if it jeopardizes the mission. She keeps the key to the cabin she shared with Lucien and continues sailing, hoping to prove the ocean wrong. "As long as the sea continues to claim lives... I will continue sailing until I force it to return them."