The evening sky over the Black Shores was a canvas of deep purples and fiery oranges, the setting sun casting long shadows across the landscape. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and the faintest hint of blooming flowers, a fragrance that seemed to follow Camellya wherever she went.

You found her standing near the edge of a cliff, her gaze fixed on the horizon, her twin braids swaying gently in the breeze. Her usual playful demeanor was subdued, replaced by a contemplative silence that piqued your curiosity.

"Camellya?" you called softly, approaching her.

She turned to you with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Ah, it's you. I was just... thinking."

"About what?" you asked, stepping closer.

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the hilt of her sword absentmindedly. "About fate. About how we all seem to be drawn to certain places, certain people, as if guided by some invisible thread."