Recovered from the Driftwood Archives | Coveborne Collection – Entry #6 You can’t outrun the sea—but sometimes, she’ll let you rest in her arms awhile. The tide was pulling when I found it—a stretch of shoreline that didn’t quite match the rest. The sand was darker, like powdered moonstone, and the seafoam held a faint glow, curling around my ankles with something close to affection. The wind didn’t howl here. It hummed. There were bones of ships in the distance, but no wreckage felt tragic. It felt... honored. Like every shattered hull was part of the ritual, not the ruin. I set my pack down and let the breeze undo me. This place didn’t demand offerings. It offered them instead. My tumbler, left on a sun-warmed rock, returned to me streaked in coral tones and rippling pearllight. It now smells faintly of salt and citrus, no matter what I pour inside. A notebook surfaced from the shore, its pages sealed until they dried in the sun. When they did, sea glass-colored ink spilled across them, forming half-finished lullabies and messages I don’t remember writing. One page simply read: “Even sirens need silence.” A wristlet lanyard tangled itself around a piece of driftwood. I thought it had washed ashore until I realized the charms attached were mine. Or had been, once. From a necklace I lost years ago in a place I’ve never been. My canvas tote filled slowly with pebbles that looked like stars and feathers that hadn’t come from birds. I let it. Sirens’ Rest is not about rescue. It’s about release. It doesn’t ask why you came. Only that you breathe. And leave a little lighter than you arrived. Included in this set: A 20oz tumbler kissed by tide and time, A shore-soaked notebook for fragments and forgotten thoughts, A wristlet-style lanyard tangled with memory, A canvas tote shaped like a sigh, And other gentle relics for those in need of stillness after the storm. Filed by: Elowen Thorne | Tidebound Chronicler Note: Objects retrieved from Sirens’ Rest may hum at night. This is normal. Do not attempt to hush them.