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// Prolog 
// Story: Gillian 
// by kitten_girl86 
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Three o'clock in the morning, and he was already at sea. As he was every morning fishing for fish but the net stayed empty this time; not a single fish at all, no crab, not even those tiny mackerels, which used to fill the nets and on the top of it all, the net was torn apart. What was happening? He was fishing for his entire life, since he first was at sea as a very young colt, but something like that never happened before. 
He went down to the lower deck and searched for his diving equipment and for that old bottle of rum he buried together in the ship to get calmer. When he was young he used to dive with nothing more but a snorkel, but times have changed. So he equipped himself with a heavy coat of mail, which was supposed to protect him from shark attacks. 
Once in water he sank pretty fast, almost too fast. He arrived at the bottom of the sea pretty quickly; well, the water was a mere 50 meters deep. He saw an entrance which led to some kind of cave. Suddenly a little tremor, water began to move him up and down. Some stones, big stones, accidentally hit his head and he became unconscious. 
He found himself alive on board of his ship. The sea calmed down and all he saw were a few fish scales on his arms.