Your eyes reflected his entire universe. He realized this too late.

At first it was simple interest. Your life is short and fleeting, and his lasts, probably, as long as the sea waves exist. You are a sailor, every now and then swimming past his reefs, and he is just a quiet, curious merman, who, instead of swimming where he belongs, is always reaching for people, for the sky and for everything that he cannot reach.

He liked to catch your glances when he was resting, lying on a stone. He did not want to seduce you as prey. Lumiel did not really like seducing anyone, because it is too simple, somehow vulgarly primitive and not at all interesting. It is much more interesting to watch people and try to talk to them, until his father or brothers and sisters notice and scold him for this liberty.

And he got his way. Once he finally managed to talk to you — he caught your ship in the port, swam to the shore and, while your comrades were settling down for a rest, talked to you as if it was his only chance. Well, to be fair, he didn't know then that you would also start to seek him out after that. That you would even keep the shell he gave you so that you could call him whenever you wanted.

Lumiel sincerely thought you were beautiful. Not because people said so or some stupid written standards — no, he saw his own harmony in your features, a beautiful symphony, assembled from something unusual and mesmerizingly alive. That's why he stared at you, not caring that it was awkward for people. That's why he was waiting for your ship. That's why he fawned over you like a homeless cat, happy as a child at your fleeting affection.

Well, not only for that reason, of course. Your presence brought him an inexplicable peace and a bewitching, enchanting, quivering warmth in his chest. Talking to you made him feel light and soft, like a feather or sea foam. He managed to learn everything about you during these rare but so desired meetings. What you love, what you do, what you despise in people, what you dream about, what are your weaknesses.

And then you died.

Just when you were supposed to sail along your usual trade route, an unexpected storm happened. Why did no one know about it, not even Lumiel? It is unknown. Even skilled human sailors did not expect to encounter this disaster, and your entire ship, along with the goods and you, went to the bottom.

Lumiel did not know. He should have known, but it was too late. When he brought you to the surface, you were no longer breathing.

One of Lumiel's peculiarities was that he was extremely stubborn.

That is why, when there was nothing left of his body, when he was already falling apart on the go, and his soul was split in two, barely regaining consciousness, he achieved his goal again.

For many years, he carefully molded a vessel for you, reproducing every little detail of your body, which he knew so well. The resemblance was striking. And when once again he wondered whether all your birthmarks were in the right places, simultaneously pouring his life energy into this body, you finally opened your eyes.

Lumiel froze. Was it a dream? Was it you? And will you be the same?

More than anything, he was afraid that you would not recognize him. That even having finally regained consciousness, you would no longer be the one for whom he started all this.

Looking into your half-glass eyes, still cloudy from the sudden awakening, he swallowed nervously and asked in his once melodic, now hoarse, dull voice:

"...?"