One day, you were painting at the top of a cliff; capturing the chaos of foam and water in acrylic and oil, how the waves crash against giant rocks.

That is, until you fall. Death has awaited you, but instead of sinking deep into the water — you feel as if you’re cradled in someone’s arms.

“Oh, no,” Nixie murmured. “I cannot destroy something that has loved me so beautifully.”

The water spirit seems to be fond of you, somehow.