The Ocean's Lullaby

The sand crunched beneath his steps in the absolute silence of that extraordinary night. Behind him, the village seemed to hold its breath, fearful of breaking the moment... Éloi walked forward to the point where the waves usually came to die. But tonight, the sea was perfectly still, as if time itself had stopped.

Éloi smiled, raised the bow to the strings, and began to play. It was no longer the nostalgic melody he had played over the past few weeks. Tonight, the notes sprang directly from his heart, both new and ancient at once, as if they had always been there, waiting for this very moment to be revealed.

The music rose, crystalline, into the still air. Sometimes Éloi closed his eyes, but when he reopened them, the scene before him slowly transformed. The moonlight concentrated into a luminous path on the water, like an invitation.

And as if in response, the surface of the sea shimmered slightly, though there wasn’t the faintest breath of wind.

Somewhere, between the waves and the stars, another melody began to echo.

Maëlle stood upon that path of light. Not the sixteen-year-old girl he had once known, but the woman she would have become — beautiful, elegant, her copper hair streaked with silver, floating around her like a soft flame. She did not speak, but her smile said everything. Behind her, other familiar figures slowly appeared: Maëlle’s father, then Éloi’s parents, and other familiar faces from the village who had departed over the years.

Éloi continued to play, tears running freely down his scarred cheeks. His fingers no longer trembled. The music flowed from him as if it had waited an entire lifetime to be set free.

Step by step, he advanced into the water. Strangely, it wasn’t cold. It felt like stepping into a warm, welcoming bath. The notes continued to rise, even clearer, as the water climbed to his knees, then his waist.

"I never forgot our melody, Maëlle," he said between phrases of music. "I kept it in my heart all these years."

The figure reached out a hand toward him, and Éloi could have sworn he felt her fingers brush his own. In that instant, every memory flooded back: their races along the beach as children; the starfishs; the first piece Maëlle had ever played for him; their conversations about the future, about music; and that day the sea had taken her away with her father. Fifty years had passed, but the pain finally dissolved, replaced by a profound, soothing peace.

The water was now up to his chest, but Éloi kept playing, raising the violin above the waves. The music and the sea became one, each note creating ripples that danced across the water's surface, as if the ocean itself was dancing to the rhythm of the melody.

"I knew you would come back," he whispered. "I waited so long..."

The closer he moved, the clearer the silhouettes became, their smiles growing sharper and warmer. His father nodded approvingly, just as he had when Éloi repaired his first instrument. His mother stretched out her arms toward him, radiating the unconditional love he had always known. And Maëlle... Maëlle seemed to glow from within, her invisible violin playing in perfect harmony with his.

Each step felt lighter than the last. The warm water cradled him gently, refusing to let him sink harshly. The stars slowly wheeled above him, and the music pulsed in his veins, in time with the tides and the beating of his heart.

The water reached his chin. With perfect calm, he played the last notes of their shared melody, then lifted his gaze one last time to the star-filled sky. The moon seemed larger, more brilliant than ever before.

"The Ocean’s Lullaby," Éloi and Maëlle whispered together, just before the water closed over his lips.

With infinite tenderness, he released the violin. The instrument floated on the surface, gleaming under the moonlight like a fallen star.

For an infinite moment, the violin lingered between two worlds, as if hesitating, before surrendering himself gently — almost reverently — to the deep. Returning to the ocean that had once carried him.

Their eyes met one last time — a silent oath, woven from all the promises they had never been able to make.

Only then did Éloi close his eyes, feeling Maëlle’s hand close gently around his own. The water enveloped his body with an infinite tenderness, like an embrace long awaited.

For the first time in half a century, he felt whole again.

***

The entire village joined the search, but Éloi’s body was never found. Some said he was an old man who had gotten confused and drowned. But many others, more than one would have expected, exchanged knowing looks when speaking of the souls of the sea, who sometimes called their own back.

Éloi’s house remained empty for several years, until a young musician passing through decided to buy it. She often told anyone who would listen that it was a melody heard one night under a full moon that had drawn her to the village.

In a corner of the workshop, she found an old yellowed notebook, filled with trembling musical notes. On the first page, barely legible, a faded inscription:
"For you, Maëlle — may the sea always remember."

Each evening, she would open the window and let the breeze carry those ancient memories into the night, convinced that somewhere, between the waves, two souls were still watching over them.

Because on nights when the sea lies perfectly still and the moon is full, those who walk the beach swear they can hear a distant music — two violins answering each other, harmonizing. A melody both joyful and melancholic, like a conversation between two souls who have finally found each other again.

And if you ask the elders of the village, they will smile and tell you it’s simply the ocean’s lullaby. A song the sea learned from a man who loved it enough to entrust it with his heart and his memories.

A lullaby that the ocean still sings, to remind us that some loves are stronger than time itself — and even stronger than death.