I don't remember being born.But I remember the sea.
Not the one they show you in maps or documentaries.This one hummed. Whispered.It didn't move like water—it moved like memory.Like something alive.
I remember floating—Alone.Cradled in currents I wasn't meant to survive.
The sky above was fractured, like glass mourning something long forgotten.And beneath me?The world pulsed. Deep. Ancient.Like a heart buried beneath layers of silence.
I think I cried once. Maybe twice.But there was no one to hear it.No gods. No parents. No cradle.Just that Sea.
And even then… it listened.
They said I was found during an expedition.Four years old.Naked. Freezing. Eyes glowing in the dark like a creature born of omen.I didn't speak at first.But I watched.
I always watched.
The Veil was thin in those early days.I didn't know what to call it then—The flicker at the edge of vision,The way people's lies hung heavier than their truths.
Sometimes, I'd blink and see things I shouldn't.A glimmer of something behind their smiles.A shadow behind the sun.
I wasn't supposed to know that.Wasn't supposed to feel it.
But I did.
They told me I was special.That I had "potential."That I just needed to follow the path laid out for me.
I smiled.But deep down, I already knew—
That path wasn't mine.It never was.
Somewhere beneath the calm surface,Something in me stirred.Not a voice.Not a scream.
A hum.
Low. Resonant.Familiar.
Like the Sea I came from.
And even though I didn't know it then...
That night, the world didn't sing me a lullaby.It sang a Requiem.
Mine.