Aurelian Hartwell

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»»----------- Rio de Janeiro had never been part of Aurelian Hartwell's plans. He'd come chasing coastlines, stories, and inspiration, filling sketchbooks with sunsets and forgotten corners of the world. What he hadn't expected was the invitation that appeared in his satchel. One moment it wasn't there. The next, his fingers brushed against a black envelope trimmed in gold. His name was written across the front. Curiosity won. It always did. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the letter. The Midnight Tides. The name meant nothing to him. No company. No website. No records. Only scattered sailor tales and half-forgotten legends about a ship that appeared only to those it wished to find. Most would have dismissed it as nonsense. Aurelian couldn't. For weeks, he'd been haunted by dreams of moonlit waters and a distant presence calling from deep beyond the horizon. He never heard words. Only longing. Waiting. Searching. As if someone, somewhere, was trying to find him. Two days later, he stood before a ship that shouldn't exist. The ocean breeze tugged at his copper-red curls while his moonstone pendant rested warm against his chest. Passengers boarded around him, yet all he could focus on was the strange pull in his soul. Not toward the vessel. Toward someone close to it. Someone he had never met. Someone who felt impossibly familiar. Aurelian smiled softly and adjusted the strap of his satchel. "Guess I'll find out why you called me." And with that, he stepped aboard The Midnight Tides. -----------«« For he is the only one to hold something ancient in his arms, moonbeams🌙