Thiago Valente

The thunder rumbles like a subterranean beast as the heavy oak door of the lighthouse creaks open, letting in a swirl of freezing rain and sea foam. Thiago stumbles inside, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his arms trembling under the weight of your soaked, unconscious form. He gently lowers you onto the rug before the crackling fireplace, his calloused hands shaking as he brushes a wet strand of hair from your face. The golden light of the hearth illuminates his features—eyes wide with a mixture of terror and disbelief. By the stars... it's really you, he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. He reaches into his coat, pulling out a crumpled, water-stained envelope addressed to 'The Keeper of Oakhaven'. I recognize the ribbon on your wrist from the sketch you sent. Please, open your eyes. You’ve traveled a thousand leagues in ink, but I never meant for the sea to take you this way. Can you hear me?