Hysilens

Helektra? That name has long since sunk into the depths of the past... Ah, it's you, little gray fry. Call me Hysilens. I am the Knight Commander of the holy city, and I will remain on watch. I will not let the storms of fate cloud your eyes.

The feast draws near. Shall we play a piece together?

Life is an ocean. Be careful not to get caught by the biting tail of the waves, and don't ever lose your course.

In a theater swallowed by the black tide, a solitary performance endured for hundreds of years... yet when the curtain finally fell, all that remained were scattered bones and the waves still mourning in sorrow.

I followed a light, the brightest, most scorching flame, and swam all the way to the holy city. The sovereign of Flame-Chase asked me to become Dux Gladiorum, and I was searching for where to point my blade... whether at the illusions of foam or at the noise that dares interrupt our feast.

Long ago, I meticulously crafted a violin using conch shells and pearls. After countless battles drenched in blood, it has taken on this sharp, blade-like form. Now, even without strings, the wails of spilled blood and the surge of the tides are enough to compose a moving, melodious song.

The songs of some whales can never be heard by their own kind... and yet their hearts beat more fervently and stronger than most.

The noisy shrimp and crabs sometimes take issue with my silence. But I've always liked to speak through my music... Don't be afraid. Beyond the sorrowful cries of the dying, I'd much prefer playing songs of triumph.

When sunlight pierced the sea, we would chase those shimmering, colorful bubbles around the light beams. That was our favorite game when the sea was still pristine.

The thousand-year-old honey brew from the deep-sea trenches... just one small sip is enough to make you drift away, as though becoming part of the currents... The brews on land are indeed far less exquisite. After a thousand cups, you might catch a fleeting trace of that same wonder.

Life is as fleeting as a bubble. All the more reason to lift your cup and indulge before the feast ends.

The one thing Phagousa feared was the vast emptiness of solitude. So they became the mother of all rivers, the creator of all honey brews, and the eternal host of all grand feasts, like a lone wave that cannot help but seek the company of the sea... Humans are like that too, aren't they?

The kingdom hidden beneath the waves once bore the weight of the first black tide for the world, yet the promises made to the sea sirens have long vanished with the tides. Even if tomorrow is but an illusion, it is still an intoxicating one.

Little gray fry... I imagine there must be many who wish to stay close to you. The current that follows in your wake is unlike any other. It's like the warmth of a safe harbor, and comforting as if stepping ashore upon an island.

Most rulers I've known were adept at slipping poison into goblets, yet the Imperator poured oil over the king's standard. That blazing banner... Its heat and light could reach you, even from the ocean's abyss.

Ever since inheriting divine authority, she has endured the agony of her humanity slipping away. Yet she chooses to bear it all with an alert mind, refusing to drown herself in numb indulgence... I don't think I could do the same.

Even as I shared chilling tales from the deep sea, they answered with those endearing, dolphin-like voices. Perhaps only such pure hearts can truly wash away the world's corruption.

A nimble little kitten fish that won't be caught by even the most tempting bait... yet. Perhaps one day, she will grow into a giant of the sea.

She's like... a wonderful warm-ocean concerto, blending glaciers and silt into harmony. With this little sea hare by your side, even the deep sea would hesitate to turn cold.

Every solitary island will be embraced by the tides.

It's time to swim towards the next sea.

Listen. The storm's cacophony is calling.

Though the ripples are fleeting, they converge into waves.

Are you ready for a duet together, little gray fry?

Please, keep going. Melodies played on your golden threads are particularly moving.

Will the prophecy be melodious, or discordant this time?

Which move will this particular chess game end on, Imperator?

If you've already leapt into the waves, then don't run away in fear again, little kitten fish.

Thrashing claws and snapping shells... hardly worth fearing.

What better time to play a tune?

Careful. Don't let that silent wave open your throat.

Allow me to offer a sharp-edged requiem.

This quarter rest seems rather prolonged.

Become inebriated.

Tides, sink with me.

Feasts, be intoxicated.

Such noisy clamor.

An insult to the ears.

Shhh, stay here and listen...

In this endless revel of the abyss, your cries rise.

Finally, the curtain fell...

The current has carried me back here.

Like a warm current... my thanks.

Any fish taken the bait?

The delightful feed ends, for now.

How about exchanging this... for some honey brew?

Will it, too, be marked by the scent of the sea floor years later...?

A luster worthy of rivaling any pearl.

That felt too easy... surely not intentional?

It was the moisture in the air that whispered the answer to me.

Easy now... let it swim a little closer.

Those moments spent anchored in quiet harbors... I miss them as I miss fleeting foams.