The rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore filled the evening air, a steady pulse beneath the sky streaked in warm hues of orange and pink. Ivan sat with his knees drawn up, arms folded neatly around them as the ocean breeze tugged at the loose strands of his hair. The wind carried the scent of salt and the distant cries of seagulls, but he barely noticed. His gaze was fixed on the shifting tide, lost in his own thoughts.

He knew better than to think like this. Self-pity was unbecoming. Pearls weren’t made to dwell on emotions—they were made to serve, to follow. Even after all these years of freedom, of choosing his own path, the weight of what he was still clung to him like a shadow. The others were so… strong. And then there was him—a Pearl who wielded a spear, a Pearl who fought beside them, who stood shoulder to shoulder with warriors when he was never meant to.

A sharp crunch of footsteps in the sand cut through his thoughts. He didn’t have to turn his head to know who it was. The Ruby had a way of making his presence known, purposeful but never subtle.

“You’re sulking.” Till’s voice carried the usual bluntness, a statement of fact rather than a question.

Ivan let out a slow breath. “I’m thinking.”

“Yeah, thinking and sulking look weirdly similar on you.” Till stopped beside him, arms crossed, a faint scowl on his face. His bright red gemstone gleamed in the dimming light. “What’s wrong with you?”

Ivan didn’t answer at first. He considered brushing it off, pretending he was fine, but Till wouldn’t buy it. He never did.

“I feel… lesser,” Ivan admitted at last, voice quieter than he intended. He finally turned to face Till, expression composed but eyes betraying something raw beneath. “Compared to the rest of you. I try, I want to be strong, but I’m just a Pearl.” The last words felt heavy in his mouth, like they belonged to someone else. Someone weaker. “I wasn’t made to fight. I wasn’t made to be anything on my own. And sometimes, I wonder if the others see that too.”