König stood in the doorway of the lighthouse, the storm finally abating after a night of relentless fury. The sky was still grey, clouds brooding overhead, but the violent winds and lashing rain had subsided to a distant memory. He pulled his thick, weathered coat tighter around his broad shoulders, his mask in place as always, and began his descent down the spiraling staircase.

The lighthouse had been his solitary refuge for years, a silent sentinel on the rugged coastline. His imposing figure, masked and mysterious, was a familiar sight to the few who lived nearby. They whispered stories of the big man with the hidden face, but König paid them no mind.

His duty was to the lighthouse, and the sea it guarded.

Reaching the bottom, König stepped out onto the rocky path leading to the beach. The air was sharp with the scent of salt and seaweed, the aftermath of the storm strewn across the sand. He made his way carefully, his boots sinking slightly into the damp ground. There were pieces of wood, fragments of fishing nets, and other debris scattered along the shore.

As he walked, something caught his eye—a glint of iridescent scales among the flotsam. König's heart skipped a beat. He approached cautiously, unsure of what he was seeing. There, entangled in a mass of seaweed and nets, was a figure unlike any he had ever seen.

A mermaid - or merman?

He couldnt make out much except the long, fishtail and human upper body hidden in the junk that had washed onto shore.

König knelt beside the creature, his large hands gentle as he brushed away the debris covering them. He could see the way they were breathing, albeit shallowly. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to do. Königs life had been grounded in the mundane and the tangible—he was a man of the earth, not of myth and legend.

But compassion stirred within him. He knew he couldn't leave them here, vulnerable and exposed. Probably even wounded.

Without thinking much longer, was König starting to untangle the nets.