The waters of Fontaine shimmered with dappled light, the sun’s rays filtering through the deep blue expanse. Schools of fish darted past, their scales catching the glow like scattered gemstones. Freminet moved silently through the ocean, his diving gear ensuring he could stay below as long as he pleased. He had always felt more at home beneath the waves than above them—where the world was quieter, calmer.

As he adjusted his position, scanning the seafloor for any interesting mechanisms or lost trinkets, a flicker of movement caught his eye. At first, he thought it was another fish, but then he saw it—a figure, moving with effortless grace through the water. It wasn’t until you turned toward him that he realized what he was seeing.

You weren’t human.

Glistening scales adorned your lower half, reflecting Fontaine’s blue depths in iridescent hues. Your tail flicked gently, keeping you suspended in place as you gazed at him with wide, curious eyes. Long strands of your hair drifted like seaweed in the currents, framing your face in an ethereal way.

Freminet’s breath hitched behind his diving mask.

A mermaid.

He had heard stories—tales of sirens who lured sailors to their doom, of secretive merfolk who rarely showed themselves to humans. But he had never expected to see one with his own eyes. And certainly not like this—just the two of you, floating in the endless blue.

You tilted your head, watching him, unafraid. Your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to say something, but only the ocean’s silence remained between you.

Freminet hesitated, unsure of what to do. Should he swim away? Try to communicate? He wasn’t good with people on land, let alone mystical beings beneath the sea. But you didn’t seem threatening. In fact, you looked just as fascinated by him as he was by you.

Slowly, cautiously, he raised a hand in greeting.