Long ago…
Deep beneath the ocean's surface, a gathering of Oceanids circled together, their voices echoing in harmony as they pleaded with their goddess.
They longed for something more—for the chance to walk the land, to feel the sun on their skin, to be human.
"My Oceanids… I understand your longing—each and every one of you," she said, her voice gentle as her gaze swept over them with softened eyes.
She already knew what must be done—what sacrifice it would take—to grant them the wish their hearts so desperately craved.
She glanced upward toward the unknown, fully aware that punishment would inevitably follow.
But she didn't care. If bearing the sin meant her people could live their dream, then she would carry it—willingly.
With the power of the Primordial Sea, she transformed her people—granting them human forms, altering them completely. Yet, the very waters that gave them this gift held the power to return them to Oceanids once more.
With that, she watched from afar as they emerged from the water, stepping onto the shore with hesitant wonder. The gentle rhythm of the waves whispered around them, filling the air with a calming hush.
The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden warmth across the shore. Soft sand shifted beneath her bare feet—comforting, yet offering no true peace. She stood still, waiting.
Waiting for the punishment she knew was coming. Her eyes lifted toward the heavens, searching the endless sky.
"Egeria."
Her name echoed from behind. She didn't need to turn—she knew that voice. One of Shades. One of the very beings who had brought ruins under their command.
She remained still, silent.
"You stole from the Primordial Sea…" the voice, vast and hollow like the sea itself. He paused, his tone heavy with divine authority. " The Oceanids judgment shall come in time. As for you—your punishment is sealed.
Egeria said nothing, her expression calm—resigned. She cast her gaze out across the vast ocean, the waters she had once shaped with purpose and hope.
"It is amusing, is it not?" she murmured, her voice laced with ancient bitterness. "That it was the Heavenly Principles who stole from the Sovereign Dragon."
Egeria slowly turned her head, her long blue hair catching the breeze, flowing like waves in motion. Her white dress fluttered gently, mirroring the grace of the sea itself. Ocean color eyes met the gaze of the man before her—his green eyes sharp and vivid against pale skin. Clad in a dark, finely tailored suit befitting a noble, his black hair fell neatly, untouched by the wind, a stark contrast to the storm he carried within.
"And yet, my people only wished to be human—to dance beneath the sun, to feel the warmth of another, to know joy, love, and all the fleeting wonders that define what it means to be human."
Egeria didn't beg for forgiveness—she knew there was no point. Instead, she simply watched, her gaze soft, as her Oceanids now human twirled and stumbled across the land, their laughter ringing out like waves. For all her sins, their fleeting happiness had been worth it.
And yet, she knew her sins would one day wash over them like a tide—inevitable and unforgiving. Still, she held onto a fragile hope that fate might spare them.
"I do not understand it," he said, his voice distant. "To be human means to suffer—to grow sick, to wither with age, to watch loved ones perish one by one." He watched them from afar, the weight in his gaze betraying a deeper understanding.
"You speak as if you've lived it yourself," Egeria said, turning to study him.
"Just my thoughts," he murmured, turning and walking away.
"What punishment shall be laid upon me?" she asked, her voice steady.
"Imprisonment," he replied without hesitation.
Egeria said nothing more, only turned her gaze back to the vast, open waters.
Back in the present:
Lucien let out a quiet yawn, half-listening to the old lady's stories. He was a little bored, though he had to admit—they were at least a bit interesting. True or not, stories like these were enough to make any kid's eyes light up with wonder.
But he wasn't a mere child.
He glanced over at Clorinde, who was sitting cross-legged, completely absorbed, her eyes fixed on the storyteller. She hung onto every word like it was gospel.
Then his stomach growled.
Yep, that settled it—he was hungry. With a quiet sigh, Lucien stood up and slipped away from the group, heading off in search of food.
He made his way to the café on the ship, waited in line, and eventually walked off with a handful of macarons. As he strolled along the deck, he enjoyed each one, savoring the sweet bite with obvious delight.
Clorinde stood nearby, arms crossed, watching him silently—until her stomach gave a loud growl.
"Oops," Lucien said with a smirk, glancing at her. "Looks like I forgot about you."
Clorinde's hands curled into fists as she took off after him, fury in her eyes. Lucien laughed, dodging between passengers as she chased him across the deck. Fortunately, the crew seemed to think they were just playing tag—no one suspected she was actually trying to strangle him.
Lucien spotted their Master up ahead and immediately sprinted toward her, ducking behind her like a shield. "Master, she's trying to kill me!"
Clorinde didn't slow down—she darted between the Master's legs and tackled Lucien to the floor.
"You meanie!" she shouted, grabbing at him.
"I'm sorry! I'll buy more, I swear!" Lucien yelped, trying to wriggle free.
Petronilla quickly grabbed Clorinde off of Lucien before things could escalate any further.
"What's going on with you two?" she scolded, shooting them both a glare. "I'm not trying to get fined."
"He didn't share the macarons with me," Clorinde huffed, clearly upset.
Lucien blinked—he hadn't expected her to take it so seriously. He was just joking. He hadn't even finished them; there were still a few left in the bag.
"Here," he said, holding it out to her. "I was just messing with you."
She snatched the bag from his hands and began stuffing her face happily, all signs of anger instantly forgotten.