Seloria awoke to stillness.
No current stirred. No voice of the sea whispered its soft, familiar hymns. Only the faint light that seeped from Lyrielle's body illuminated the silence.
She was standing upon a ridge of glass coral, her gown flowing like mist through water, her gaze distant and unfocused. The sea around her pulsed faintly with each slow beat of her heart.
"Lyrielle," Seloria said softly, approaching her. "You've been here for hours."
Lyrielle turned. Her eyes, once the pale blue of dawn, were now vast and ocean-dark, threaded with light. "I can't sleep," she said, her voice carrying the strange echo of the deep. "When I close my eyes, I see them."
Seloria's breath caught. "Who?"
Lyrielle looked upward, to the far-off shimmer of the surface. "Everyone. The ones the sea remembers through me. Their faces drift past me like waves, and when I breathe, they breathe with me."
She touched her chest. "I don't know where I end and they begin."
Seloria reached out, taking Lyrielle's hand in both of hers. "Then I'll remind you," she whispered. "You end where my love begins."
For a moment, something human flickered in Lyrielle's gaze — soft, fragile, painfully alive. She smiled faintly. "Then never stop reminding me."
They wandered together through the undersea halls — places once lost, now blooming again with ghostly light. The ruins of Elaria had begun to stir, stone towers rising like coral spires, bridges of light stretching between them.
Lyrielle had unknowingly awakened the city's memory.
When she passed, doors opened. Statues turned their heads. Windows flickered with scenes of lives that once filled those halls — musicians, scholars, lovers.
Seloria trailed beside her, both awed and afraid. "You're rebuilding the city," she murmured.
Lyrielle's voice was soft. "Not rebuilding. Remembering."
She brushed her fingers across a wall, and the stone rippled beneath her touch. The image of a garden appeared — roses of light blooming in still water, their scent carried not through air but through memory.
"It's beautiful," Seloria whispered. "But it isn't real."
Lyrielle's gaze softened. "Does it matter?"
Later, as they sat upon the edge of a balcony that opened into endless sea, Seloria watched the light from Lyrielle's skin dance upon the water.
"Do you still remember the surface?" she asked.
Lyrielle's brow furrowed. "I remember… warmth. Wind. The taste of rain."
"And me?"
Lyrielle turned, her expression unreadable. "You are part of the sea now," she said quietly. "I couldn't forget you if I tried."
But her voice wavered.
Seloria reached out and cupped her face. "That's not the same as remembering, Lyrielle."
Something inside Lyrielle trembled. For a heartbeat, the vastness in her eyes cracked — and behind it, the woman Seloria loved looked out, fragile and aching.
"I'm still here," she whispered. "But the sea… it keeps taking pieces of me, Seloria. Every memory I keep for it, it keeps one of mine."
Seloria's heart clenched. "Then I'll hold what you lose. I'll keep you for us both."
Lyrielle smiled faintly, tears like liquid silver rising from her eyes and drifting upward through the water. "You make it sound so easy."
"It isn't," Seloria whispered. "But it's love. And that's never easy."
That night, the sea began to hum again — a low vibration that moved through the ruins like a sigh. Lyrielle rose suddenly, her expression distant.
"What is it?" Seloria asked.
Lyrielle tilted her head. "It's calling."
"Calling?"
"The sea. It wants to show me something."
Before Seloria could stop her, Lyrielle began to walk — her steps silent, her light growing brighter with each pace. The water shimmered around her, parting like silk.
"Lyrielle, wait!"
But Lyrielle didn't turn back. She drifted downward, toward a rift that had opened in the seabed — a deep, swirling chasm filled with shadow.
Seloria followed, panic rising in her chest. "Please — don't go farther!"
Lyrielle stopped at the edge of the abyss and turned. "This is where it all begins," she said softly. "The first memory. The sea's oldest sorrow. If I can understand it, maybe I can free it."
Seloria grabbed her wrist. "And if it consumes you instead?"
Lyrielle looked at her, her expression serene and unbearably sad. "Then remember me enough to bring me back."
Before Seloria could answer, Lyrielle stepped forward — and the sea swallowed her whole.
The water closed over her like the folds of a dream.
Seloria reached after her, but the current flung her back, her cry swallowed by silence. She could only watch as Lyrielle's light faded into the deep, until the last glimmer was gone.
And in its place — a faint whisper rose from the abyss.
"Do you love her enough to follow?"
Seloria's eyes burned. Without hesitation, she dove after her.