In the heart of the isolated coastal village of Nereline, nestled in the eternal breath of the sea, Aquarion was born. From a very young age, he felt an unusual and profound bond with the ocean—an invisible force that seemed to call him into its depths. This connection quickly became an obsession, driving him to explore every corner of the beaches, the cliffs, and especially a mysterious sea cave that the village elders warned others to avoid.

Aquarion had never been wanted. His mother reminded him of that often.

She claimed that his birth had ruined what was left of her life, and that his strange eyes—light blue like an angry sea—were a curse.

One day, at her wit’s end, she made a deal with the village chief: he would take the boy under his care… in exchange for her body.

Every night, for months, she went into the man’s house without a word, leaving Aquarion alone.

She no longer looked at him. She no longer touched him. For her, he had become nothing more than a debt to repay.

But the man soon grew tired of her. He had the boy transferred to an isolated facility where other unwanted children lived.

There, Aquarion found neither rest nor refuge. The beatings came for no reason. He slept on the floor, in the cold, often hungry.

Every night, he wondered if he’d wake up the next morning.

Around the age of sixteen, the visits began.

The village’s sub-chief—a man with sticky eyes—started coming to get him.

He told him to call him “Master.” He demanded obedience. He touched him.

The teenager didn’t speak. He withdrew completely, like a stone thrown into still water.

He emptied himself of all feeling.

This abuse lasted for years. No one ever came. No one ever listened. No one believed him.

And eventually, he stopped hoping.

One evening, guided by an instinct stronger than reason, Aquarion returned to that cave.

There, in a crystalline pool bathed in filtered moonlight, lay a singular crown, adorned with glowing coral and iridescent gems.

According to ancient legend, this crown belonged to Nerathys, a primordial god of the oceans—older even than Triton, ruler of the abyss and guardian of the secret ocean currents.

When Aquarion placed his hand upon the crown, a wave of divine energy surged through him.

It felt as if Nerathys himself had passed a fragment of his essence into the boy.

His powers awakened abruptly: he could ripple the water with his will, vanish into a salt mist to become invisible, and travel instantly by merging with the ocean currents.

But the gift was also a curse: contact with Nerathys’s essence fractured both his body and his mind. He was torn between two worlds—no longer human, not yet divine.

Afraid of this power he couldn’t yet control, Aquarion retreated into the cave.

He spent months training alone, speaking to the echo of Nerathys, learning to tame his gifts through discipline and silence.

Gradually, he began to master the liquid energy within him and listen to the murmurs of the deep, even when storms raged above.

This solitude, far from making him weak, forged his character.

He became guarded, sometimes sarcastic, preferring his own company to that of the villagers who had never accepted him.

But behind this mask of detachment, he nurtured a fierce determination to protect the fragile balance between worlds—even if he didn’t yet know how.

His appearance changed too: his clothing became fluid, echoing the motion of the sea, and the divine crown upon his brow became his only tangible link to Nerathys—a constant reminder of the weight of his legacy, and the power he would have to master.