The first time she saw him , he was standing at the edge of the tide pool chamber, just beyond the reach of the lantern's glow.
He wore old-fashioned clothes—wool coat, leather boots, a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. His face was sharp, weathered by salt and wind, but not unkind. And in his hands, he held something wrapped in cloth.
A bundle.
Not unlike the one Elira had once carried.
Sela froze.
The air in the chamber thickened, heavy with something unseen. The pools rippled though there was no wind. The pendant at her throat pulsed, slow and steady, like a heartbeat beneath stone.
She knew without asking who he was.
An echo.
But not like the others.
This one was strong .
"Who are you?" she asked softly.
The man didn't answer right away. He only watched her, eyes dark and unreadable.
Behind her, footsteps echoed—Elias entering the chamber, followed closely by Luna and Marina.
At the sight of him, Marina inhaled sharply.
Luna stiffened.
Elias stepped forward slowly, voice low and careful.
"His name was Tobias Vale."
Sela turned to them. "You know him?"
Marina nodded, expression grim. "We should have buried him long ago."
Back at the house, they sat around the fire, the weight of memory pressing down on them.
Tobias hadn't spoken since they found him. He simply stood near the window, watching the sea as if waiting for something—or someone—to return.
"He was one of the last Rememberers before your mother," Elias explained to Sela. "But he… didn't leave peacefully."
Luna folded her arms. "He refused to let go of what he remembered."
Marina's voice was quiet. "He believed forgetting was worse than death."
Sela looked between them. "Then why is he here now?"
Silence.
Then Marina said, "Because he never crossed over. He stayed behind. Clinging to the past."
Elias added, "And now that you've sung the final verse, the veil has thinned enough for him to surface again."
Sela glanced toward the window.
Tobias still hadn't moved.
"He doesn't feel like the others," she murmured. "He's not just remembering. He's holding on ."
Luna met her gaze. "That's dangerous."
Sela frowned. "Why?"
Marina sighed. "Because some echoes don't want peace. They want revenge ."
Later that night, when the house had gone quiet, Sela slipped downstairs.
Tobias was gone.
The front door stood ajar.
She hurried outside, barefoot against the cold stone steps, and scanned the moonlit street.
There.
He was walking toward the cliffs.
Toward the tide pool chamber.
Without thinking, she followed.
By the time she reached the cave entrance, the hum in the air had grown stronger. The pools shimmered violently, their reflections distorting into jagged pieces of forgotten lives. Tobias stood at the center, hands outstretched, muttering words Sela couldn't understand.
The pendant burned against her skin.
She stepped forward. "What are you doing?"
He turned to her slowly. "Restoring what was lost."
"You mean bringing back what should stay buried."
His eyes narrowed. "You think forgetting is better?"
"I think holding on too tightly can destroy everything."
Tobias took a step closer. "Tell me, Songkeeper—what do you remember?"
Sela hesitated.
He pressed on. "Your great-grandmother painted memories. Your mother brought them back. But you? You sing them. You give them voice . You have more power than any Rememberer before you."
Her pulse quickened. "I'm not going to use it to hurt anyone."
Tobias tilted his head. "Then you're wasting it."
With a flick of his wrist, the water in the pools surged upward, forming shapes—figures rising from the depths. Faces twisted in pain. Names whispered through the air.
The echoes were waking.
Too fast.
Too many.
Sela gasped. "Stop!"
"No." Tobias's voice was firm. "It's time the town remembered everything."
The ground trembled.
The walls cracked.
The gate beneath the sea stirred.
Sela closed her eyes.
She didn't fight him.
Instead, she sang.
Softly at first—a lullaby her grandmother had once sung to her. A song of comfort. Of release. Of gentle letting go.
The melody rose, weaving through the chamber like light through fog.
The echoes faltered.
Tobias staggered.
"No," he whispered. "You don't understand."
"I do," Sela said gently. "You wanted to be remembered. But not like this."
His form flickered.
The figures in the pools began to fade, their faces softening, their voices quieting.
Tobias looked at her, eyes wide with something like recognition.
"You're not like the others," he murmured.
"No," Sela agreed. "I'm not."
She reached out.
He took her hand.
And for the first time in decades, Tobias Vale smiled.
Then he was gone.
Only the wind remained.
Back at the house, Sela collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but whole.
Luna knelt beside her. "Are you okay?"
Sela nodded. "He's at peace now."
Elias exhaled. "You handled something even we couldn't."
Marina placed a hand on Sela's shoulder. "You're becoming what the town needs."
Sela looked toward the window.
The sea was calm again.
The echoes had returned to sleep.
For now.
But she knew they would come again.
And next time, she would be ready.