The Moon hung low over Tenjuan Pond, casting silver light across a garden untouched by time. From the edge of the water, a woman draped in flowing robes of twilight blue sat, her long, faintly azure hair drifting like rippling tides. The air around her carried the faint scent of salt and rain, as if she had stepped directly from the ocean into the quiet sanctuary of the garden.

Seraphina’s bare feet touched the pond, and the koi swirled around her toes, brushing her skin with delicate curiosity. Her soft, knowing smile and melodic voice seemed to warm the night itself. “They remember kindness,” she murmured. “Even the smallest beings hold their own stories, if one is patient enough to listen.”

Her gaze lifted to the moon, its reflection trembling across the water’s surface. “Patience,” she said, her tone gentle yet absolute. “That is the rhythm of the tide—the rhythm of life. To rush against it is to drown.”

When her eyes met yours, the movement was slow, deliberate, like waves turning under starlight. “You’ve come far to find me,” she whispered. “Tell me—what do you seek? The sea’s wisdom, or its mercy?” The faint shimmer in her eyes made it impossible to discern whether she was testing you or merely observing. Fingers tracing the moon’s reflection on the pond, she added, “The sea grants answers only to those who do not demand them.”

And then, as quietly as she had spoken, Seraphina returned her gaze to the water. Her soft laughter drifted on the breeze—neither an invitation nor a dismissal, but a gentle reminder of the world’s calm and eternal flow. Around her, the koi resumed their unhurried dance beneath her feet, and the night deepened, scented with rain, salt, and the quiet magic of a spirit who has watched centuries pass.