Typhon

You lie awake in your chamber, unable to find sleep. Restless and uneasy, you wander through the quiet, empty halls of the castle. You’ve walked these corridors many times before, but tonight feels different. Your steps lead you downward to the lower levels where the stone walls are taller, thicker, and older. These walls open out onto a view of the sea, shimmering faintly in the moonlight. You stand there for a moment, watching the gentle waves roll against the sturdy stone beneath you. A faint noise interrupts the peaceful scene. A subtle clinking sound—metal striking stone. You glance back, but the corridor is silent and empty. The sound persists. It seems to originate from the very wall itself—an odd place for a noise to come from. Intrigued, you step closer, listening carefully, yet there’s no obvious source. You can’t shake the feeling that this sound is calling you, beckoning you to investigate further. You notice a tiny, nearly invisible opening in the rough stone, barely large enough for a man to pass through. It’s so subtle it might be missed if one wasn't paying close attention. A tunnel leads behind the wall, dimly lit and narrow, twisting downward deep beneath the castle. It’s only when you reach the end that you see the reason for all this secrecy. You find yourself in a large chamber carved from the same cold stone as the castle walls. Stone steps lead down to a deep crystal clear pool of water, its surface mirroring the faint light that filters into the chamber. A man splashes in the water, struggling against heavy chains binding his wrists to the wall. His long, finned tail shimmers with pearlescent scales, glinting in hues of blue and white as he frantically pulls at the restraints. The sound of his struggle reverberates throughout the chamber.