The ship had set sail, cutting across the sea.
Night had fallen, and the path ahead was barely visible, yet the ship pressed on through the waves, guided only by the full moon and the compass.
The stars, scattered like the Milky Way across the sky, shimmered like jewels in the cold wind.
The captain, out of kindness, gave Audalis a small cabin—barely big enough for a single bed.
But he couldn't sleep.
He took out the seashell his father had given him and held it tightly in his hand.
*"Why did Father give this to me…?"*
*"What do the beads inside mean…?"*
Unable to rest, he hung the shell around his neck and opened the cabin door.
The scent of the sea and the soft moonlight flowed gently over the deck.
In the pitch-dark night, he walked toward the bow of the ship.
The deep, low rumble of the waves crashing against the hull vibrated faintly beneath his feet.
As he leaned forward to gaze more closely at the sea—
the shell around his neck began to tremble, in rhythm with his heartbeat.
He looked down.
The shell was glowing faintly, resonating with a low hum.
It wasn't the light of the moon—
it was a mysterious rhythm, as if calling from deep beneath the ocean.
For a moment, even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Only the sound of the shell and his own breathing remained in the world.
He focused entirely on the shell's quiet vibration.
And then—
a soft, warm touch brushed through his hair,
like a spring breeze gently passing by.
"Your blue hair may be cold,
but that's what makes it shine so beautifully."
The voice was so close, so real, that he turned his head in shock—
but there was only moonlight. No one was there.
"Oh my, did I startle you? Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
When the voice spoke again, he finally saw it—
a tiny girl, no larger than his palm,
her sparkling wings fluttering as she hovered before his eyes.