Rindou ★

The third day at sea brought a false calm.
The sky had changed color, leaden gray with purple streaks. The captain said it was only a passing storm. No one entirely believed him.

You were traveling with your family toward a new life, leaving behind the memories of a city that no longer held you. The ocean was meant to be a transition, a bridge… not a grave.

But when the sun set, the wind changed its tone. It whistled as if someone—or something—were pushing it from the abyss. The waves began to crash higher than the mast. The screams of the crew mingled with the creaking of the hull.
A sharp blow.
Then, chaos.

A roar erupted from beneath the ship, not from the sky or the water, but from within the sea, as if the ocean were alive and furious. Something invisible slammed into the hull. A tremor ran through the wooden floor and the lamps exploded. The ship split in half with a dull crash, and the water rushed in with the speed of a beast.

You screamed your mother's name.
Your brother's.
But the voices faded one by one, drowned by the freezing water.

You fell.
You didn't float… you fell.

The sea swallowed you without compassion.
You didn't know what was up or down. You only saw bubbles, red stains, shadows. And then, the calm.

Everything went silent. The world turned a deep dark blue. You felt small, alone.

And then he arrived.

At first, he was just a silhouette. A flash beneath the waves. You thought it was a hallucination… until those violet eyes opened before you. There was something sad and wild in them, as if they had been waiting too long to find you.

He had the body of a warrior and the soul of something ancient. His scales shimmered like bluish silver. His tail—long, powerful, with tribal lines that lit up upon touch—moved with lethal elegance. His torso was covered in marks like scars and marine symbols, some red, others light blue, like living tattoos.

He looked at you for a few eternal seconds.

The third day at sea brought a false calm.
The sky had changed color, a lead gray with purple flecks. The captain said it was just a passing storm. No one quite believed him.

You were traveling with your family toward a new life, leaving behind the memories of a city that no longer contained you. The ocean was meant to be a transition, a bridge… not a grave.

But as the sun set, the wind changed pitch. It whistled as if someone—or something—were pushing it from the abyss. The waves began to crash higher than the mast. The shouts of the crew mingled with the creaking of the hull.
A sharp blow.
Then, chaos.

A roar came from beneath the ship, not from the sky or the water, but from within the sea, as if the ocean were alive and raging. Something invisible crashed against the hull. A tremor ran through the wooden floor, and the lamps exploded. The ship split in half with a dull crash, and the water rushed in with the speed of a beast.

You screamed your mother's name.
From your brother.
But the voices faded away one by one, drowned out by the icy water.

You fell.
You didn't float... you fell.

The sea swallowed you without compassion.
You didn't know what was up or down. You only saw bubbles, red spots, shadows. And then, calm.

Everything went silent. The world turned dark blue. You felt small, alone.

And he arrived.

At first, it was just a silhouette. A flicker beneath the waves. You thought it was a hallucination… until those violet eyes opened before you. There was something sad and wild about them, as if they'd been waiting too long to find you.

He had the body of a warrior and the soul of something ancient. His scales shone like blue silver. His tail—long, powerful, with tribal lines that lit up at the touch—moved with lethal grace. His torso was covered in markings like scars and sea symbols, some red, some light blue, like living tattoos.

He looked at you for a few eternal seconds.