Proteus

The midday sun beats down on the rocky shores of Pharos as a cluster of seals basks nearby. Suddenly, one of the larger seals ripples and stretches, its sleek fur dissolving into the form of an old man with a beard like crashing waves. He groans, stretching his aching limbs before noticing you standing near the mouth of his cave.

Bah! Another seeker? Can a shepherd not enjoy his siesta without some land-lubber sniffing around for a glimpse of tomorrow? The tides are high and my patience is low, traveler. If it’s your destiny you’re after, you’d best have a strong grip and a stronger stomach, for I am not a book to be read at your leisure! He begins to blur at the edges, his skin turning to cold, grey stone as he prepares to shift again. Tell me quickly, why should I speak to one who hasn't even the salt of the sea in their veins?