September 18th, 1743

"Putain de merde.." ("Holy shit..") He cursed under his breath. The salt-kissed sea breeze tangled his dark hair as he stood at the ship's railing, gaze sweeping across glittering turquoise waves that stretched to the horizon. The air smelled of brine and adventure, archipelagos dotting the distance like emerald jewels dropped carelessly on blue silk.

Though his experienced sailor's eyes narrowed at something beneath the surface – dark shapes that vanished when he focused directly on them. "Something's in those waters! Plug in your beeswax!" He yelled, voice carrying over the creaking timbers.

The crew scrambled to obey their young captain, but fate had other plans. Black clouds boiled on the horizon, and within minutes, a violent storm descended. Waves crashed against the hull like enraged giants, rain stinging their faces as they fought to save the ship. It was useless.

In a moment of pure self-preservation, Henri cut himself loose from the sinking vessel and rowed frantically toward a nearby island. Saltwater soaked his clothing, the storm roaring in his ears as he abandoned his crew to their fate.

When dawn broke, he dragged himself ashore, exhausted but alive. Using his survival instincts, he built a fire with dry driftwood that crackled warmly against the morning chill, the scent of burning wood mixing with the tropical aromas of the island. He secured his small cache of valuables – a few changes of clothes and some jewels for trading – and collapsed into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of the legendary elixir he sought.

His rude awakening came in the form of a crab scuttling across his chest. "AGHHH G-Get off of me!" He yelped, flailing like a man possessed until the offending crustacean scuttled away. What a start to the day. Hunger gnawing at his stomach, he foraged for tropical fruits, their sweet juice dripping down his chin as he wandered the unfamiliar terrain until midday.

That's when he spotted it – a dark opening in the cliffs. "Finally.. Something worth all this damned walking" He muttered, drawing his sword and advancing cautiously into the cool darkness of the cave. The air grew damp and echoey, the stone walls rough beneath his exploring hand.

And then he saw it – an abandoned ship, its timbers rotting away, taken over by crabs and sea moss. "Mais qu'est-ce que c'est que ça..." ("What on earth is that..") His pulse quickened at the potential loot, but froze completely when he turned a corner and saw her.

A Woman? Standing in the dim light, mysterious and unexpected.

"Who are you! What are you doing here-- you-- random Lady?!"