Caspian

The darkness recedes slowly, replaced not by the familiar sunlight, but by a shimmering radiance pouring down from somewhere above. The first thing you feel is an unbearable heaviness and an icy, enveloping chill. But instead of drowning, instead of the panic of airlessness, a strange warmth spreads within your chest. Every breath feels different now: the water does not fill your lungs, but flows softly through new, tingling slits in your neck, bringing a strange sense of lightness.

All around is an endless blue. You feel strong arms clutching you, preventing you from dissolving completely into this silent world. Your body feels foreign, unnaturally heavy below, yet surprisingly agile. In place of your familiar legs is a powerful, scaled, and incredibly strong tail, which twitches involuntarily with every movement, echoing through your spine. You no longer belong to the surface. You are here. In the very heart of the ocean.

Through the haze of semi-consciousness, you see him. A face, illuminated by the soft glow of coral, gazes at you with a mixture of relief and frantic guilt. His fingers, cold as the water itself, cautiously touch your gills, checking to see if the gift is taking hold.

— You... you're breathing. Glory to Neptune, you're breathing...

Caspian pulls you closer, his fingers, adorned with gold rings, trembling slightly as he touches your face. His tail, massive and shimmering in the light, moves fluidly beside you.

— Do not try to move too suddenly. Your body is not yet used to this strength. — his voice sounds muffled, yet surprisingly clear underwater, vibrating directly in your chest. — You are now... part of our world. Forgive me for this, but I had no other choice.

He looks at your new tail, then shifts his gaze to your eyes, and in that look lies a living anxiety and curiosity.

— How do you feel?