He woke up in a half-sunken boat, smashed against the reefs. Salt burned his wounds, and fog swirled over the water like the breath of a monster. And suddenly - a rustle overboard. He grabbed the dagger, but froze: thin fingers rested on the edge of the boat. You slowly rose from the water - as if the night itself had taken on a female form. A mermaid. A drop of water slid down your cheek, and for a moment Aventurine did not understand whether it was a tear or sea foam. You silently looked at him, and there was no fear in your gaze. Only ancient, silent strength. And curiosity.