Aeron watched as Quentin began ranting about medusa and Greek mythology. He blinked at him. Then he turned away and looked at the statues. A strange sense of uneasiness settled in his bones at the eeriness of the area surrounding them.
He reached up and gently touched the gills protruding from his own neck, cringing a bit as he realized how delicate they were. Something was very wrong here. It was almost... magic.
"We're in Atlantis," he murmured. He would have felt silly, but here they were. Under water. With gills. Atlantis seemed as likely as medusa did.
