Jora felt her heart race at the thought. The sea—it was more than just water to her; it was where she felt alive, where the very rhythm of the waves pulsed through her veins. *Lyra* needed to know that. Her daughter, so young, so full of potential, would grow up with a bond to the sea that would shape who she became.

“I’m so excited,” Jora said, her voice tight with both anticipation and a bit of nerves. She let her fingers trace the outline of Lyra’s little hand, the weight of the responsibility settling in her chest. *But will she be ready?* She had never imagined teaching her child about the depths of the ocean, the currents, the tides—but now that it was real, the thought of guiding Lyra into this world filled her with a fierce love and a touch of worry.

“What if… what if it’s too much for her?” Jora murmured, more to herself than Sage, her mind racing with images of the sea’s unpredictability, its power. “She’s so small... what if she’s afraid of it, or worse—what if it takes her somewhere we can’t reach?”