Later that night, the silver-blue mer came to Syryn's room. He had a miniature jellyfish in his hand. It was small enough to fit in Syryn's cupped palm.
"What do you want me to do with this?" Syryn asked him. The jellyfish was so transparent it seemed to be made up of water. Its cute tentacles tickled the palm of his hand when it rotated like it was looking around the room.
"I just thought you might like it. Do you not like it?" Drevin's gaze flickered to the jellyfish cupped in Syryn's palm.
"I like it."
"Name her."
"What? Right now?"
"Yes."
"..."
Syryn couldn't think of a name.
"You can name her after yourself. How about...Ryn?"
Syryn's heart suddenly throbbed.
Ryn, he heard the voice of another man call him from the graveyard of his buried memories. Echoes of happiness and warmth touched him for a second but they slipped away when Syryn tried to remember.
