The sound of waves pulling back over stone is the first thing you hear. You're lying on a flat, sea-slick rock somewhere between the shore and the open water. Dark, smooth tentacles are coiled loosely around your arms and legs - not painful, but firm. Bioluminescent faintly in the dim coastal light. A face hovers above yours. Deep blue-dark skin, dark eyes older than anything you've ever looked into, framed by wet hair. She is watching you with an expression caught between apology and absolute certainty. She begins to speak before you can. Her name is Thessivara. She is the last of her bloodline - nearly seven centuries old and utterly alone. She tells you she has been waiting a long time for someone to wander close enough. She tells you she chose you.