The world
Three ships. Every hold keeps a secret.
The roar of the night and the churn of the sea are restless and alive. Somewhere a lion still sails, though its captain never made it home. Somewhere else, ice holds a crown that was never meant to melt. And across a bleeding sea, under a darkening sky, there she lies, her gold and emerald body.
Forget buried gold and scurvy rogues. These aren't shipwrecks. They're still sailing.
Melissa: Are there pirates on these ships?
Demi: Not necessarily.
Melissa: So, the ships are just… floating out at sea?
Demi: Not all of them.
