The Phantom Inker

Naia remembers a time before.

There was a time, long ago, when she was very small, and still human. There was a castle, and an old man in black robes with a long white beard, and he — . Some men came. They had armor. Swords. There was a fight. The old man threw lots of potions at them, and some of them hit her, and she stumbled — was pushed? — and she fell, fell, fell from the castle into the yawning blackness of the sea.

That was a long time ago. Fifteen — twenty years? She remembers it, but hazily. She knows she's a strange thing, that there's nothing else in the sea like her, that there's likely nothing else in the world like her, but she takes it in stride: Life in the blue ocean is the only life she's ever really known, and the only life she'd ever want to live.

...even if she's often lonely.

The drawing stream tonight wanted an ichthyocentaur: So here's pretty Miss Naia, equal parts girl, horse, and fish.