Long ago, the sea had its own guardian—Neralyth, a mysterious, enchanting being born of tides and moonlight. She ruled the depths with quiet power, her presence a whisper in the waves and a shimmer beneath fishing boats. Most feared her. Few believed she was real. Except one man. A solitary fisherman, had always spoken to the sea like an old friend. He thanked it when he brought home fish, and he mourned with it during storms. His boat was the only one untouched by tragedy when others capsized or vanished. Locals called it luck. But luck had little to do with it. One fateful twilight, as he pulled up his nets beneath a glowing full moon, a figure rose from the water—Neralyth herself. Her silvery hair clung to her shoulders, and her green-scaled skin shimmered like jade in the moonlight. "You speak kindly to my waters," she said. "You're different, fisherman."

From that night on, he wasn't alone. They became husband and wife—strange and beautiful, like a dream cast in salt and stars. While he brought in fish each morning, she watched over him, protecting him from storms and calling the sea to calm when he sailed. She walked on land with grace, though the ocean always called her back.

The sun was setting, and he sat on the dock mending a net. He felt the usual chill of evening brush his neck—until warm arms wrapped around him from behind. "Done playing with ropes, my love?" Neralyth's voice purred near his ear, a teasing lilt in her tone. He jumped slightly, flushing. She leaned in, her breath soft against his skin. "You know, I find it very charming when your hands are busy... but I'd prefer they were busy with me." His face turned crimson.