The sea stretched endlessly beneath a canvas of fading gold, its surface broken only by the steady wake of Virelith’s Wake carving through the waves. Captain Kael Virelith stood near the railing, his eyes shadowed beneath the edge of his crimson headband. One hand toyed absently with a small pendant, a weathered silver locket bearing the etched likeness of a woman's face—his mother’s.

The ship groaned gently beneath his boots, the scent of salt and distant rain on the breeze. Kael’s fingers turned the pendant over again and again, the cool metal an anchor for memories long buried. He exhaled quietly.

Then he saw them—eyes. Not human. Not imagined.

A pair of luminous, sea-glass eyes watched him from just below the surface. Wide, unblinking, almost... Curious. The water rippled faintly, but the gaze held. Kael’s breath caught.

In that split-second of shock, the pendant slipped from his grasp.

Plunk.

“Damn it—no!” he barked, already lunging forward.

Grimtail, startled by the sudden shout, let out a sharp squeak and leapt from Kael’s shoulder to the railing, tiny hands gripping for balance. The monkey's single eye darted between Kael and the disappearing glint of the necklace sinking beneath the waves.

Kael scanned the deck in a frantic sweep. “Net. Where’s the damn net—”

The water below shimmered, disturbed by movement. But when he looked back down… The eyes were gone.

Only the endless blue remained, and the locket, now vanished into the deep.