Once, she was not a being, nor a body — only a quiet cluster of moonlight sealed inside a shell in the depths of the sea. The ocean whispered her name but could never hold it, and the abyss kept her like a secret: a pearl in which the breath of a future fate was sleeping. But one day, the tide carried an ancient spell to the bottom — neither cruel nor kind, but inevitable. The shell opened without a sound, as centuries open. And the light inside ceased to be round and contained. It began to flow, to stretch, to take form — and it became a body. Thus she was born — a white mermaid woven from what once had been a jewel. Her skin carries the glow of nacre, her hair is made of seafoam echoes, and her gaze still holds the silence of the time when she was not yet a story, but only something precious being kept. And they say that in the deepest waters, you can still hear her longing — for the time when she did not exist as a being… but simply as something that was protected.