The world fell away.
Seloria's descent felt endless. The deeper she swam, the colder the water grew — not with chill, but with silence, as though each fathom she passed sank her further into a dream where sound itself had never existed.
Her light dimmed the longer she went on, yet she pressed forward, drawn by a faint, pulsing glow below — Lyrielle's light, flickering like a dying star.
"Lyrielle!" she cried, though her voice was stolen the instant it left her lips.
The abyss answered not with echo, but with vision.
Around her, shadows stirred, drifting into shapes — people, places, echoes of lives that might have been. She passed them like pages in a book left open too long: a child kneeling before the sea; a woman dropping a crown into the waves; a shipwreck burning beneath the surface.
And then she saw her.
Lyrielle stood before an ancient gate carved into the seafloor, vast and half-buried in coral. Her glow flickered with exhaustion, but her gaze was steady — eyes fixed on the carvings before her.
Seloria swam closer, her voice a trembling whisper. "Lyrielle…"
Lyrielle turned, startled — and for a heartbeat, Seloria saw both the woman she loved and something else behind her eyes: a depth too vast to belong to any one soul.
"Seloria," she breathed, relief and dread mingling in her tone. "You shouldn't have followed me."
Seloria reached her, grasping her arms. "You said you wanted to understand it — the sea's first sorrow. Let me understand it with you."
Lyrielle hesitated, then nodded faintly. "Then you must see it as I do."
She pressed her palm against the gate.
The coral burned with light — not heat, but memory. The carvings began to shift, unspooling their story like ink dissolving into water. The abyss filled with shimmering visions.
Seloria gasped.
She saw a woman — radiant, sorrowful, standing upon a cliff beneath a black storm. Her hair was white as foam, her eyes the colour of the tide. Around her feet, the sea churned as though alive, responding to her grief.
"Who is she?" Seloria whispered.
Lyrielle's voice trembled. "The First Queen. The one who gave the sea its heart."
The vision continued. The woman on the cliff knelt beside a fallen body — another woman, still and pale, her hair tangled with salt and blood. The Queen's tears fell into the ocean, and where they touched, the water glowed.
Her voice echoed through the abyss:
"If love must die, then let the sea remember."
And with that vow, the waves rose — immense and terrible — swallowing the world.
When the vision faded, Seloria stood trembling. "She… she made the sea grieve forever."
Lyrielle nodded. "Her sorrow became its soul. That's why the sea remembers everything. It was born from love that refused to be forgotten."
The silence between them deepened.
Seloria looked at Lyrielle — her glow brighter now, her expression distant. "You found her memory," she said softly. "But what does it want from you?"
Lyrielle's gaze drifted upward, to where faint light shimmered far above. "It wants release. The sea has carried her sorrow for eternity. It remembers too much. I think… I'm meant to set it free."
Seloria's voice broke. "And what will happen to you if you do?"
Lyrielle smiled faintly. "If I free the sea from sorrow, it will no longer need to remember me."
"No," Seloria said fiercely, clutching her hands. "There must be another way."
Lyrielle's eyes softened. "There's always another way, Seloria. But not all of them let us stay together."
The gate began to open.
A soundless current swept through the abyss, and from within the gate's heart rose a light so pure it hurt to look upon — the memory of the First Queen's love, unbroken, unending, burning brighter than any star.
It illuminated Lyrielle completely, wrapping her in brilliance. Her hair streamed upward like silver fire; her body shimmered with every heartbeat of the ocean.
"Lyrielle!" Seloria cried.
Lyrielle turned, her expression serene and sorrowful. "If I do this, the sea will finally forget its grief. It will be calm again. But it will forget us too."
Seloria shook her head, tears rising to her eyes like drifting pearls. "Then let it grieve. Let it rage. But don't let it forget you."
Lyrielle smiled faintly. "You would defy eternity itself for love."
Seloria's hand touched her cheek. "I already have."
The light grew unbearable. The current pulled at Seloria, trying to tear her away, but she clung to Lyrielle with all the strength left in her.
"Whatever happens," Lyrielle whispered, "remember me enough to make me real."
And with that, she stepped into the light.
The sea roared without sound. The gate flared open like the heart of a star, and everything dissolved — light, shadow, memory.
Seloria screamed, but no voice came. Only the echo of her own heartbeat.
When the light finally dimmed, Lyrielle was gone.
The abyss was empty.
Only the faint echo of her voice lingered — a whisper carried through the still water:
"If love must die, then let it dream instead."