Born with a spiral crown, he walks the seafloor garden, counting the heartbeats of anemones; press your ear to a shell and it repeats every promise people forgot to keep. Creatures of salt and pollen follow him, for he can untangle hurried days and give them back their patience. He speaks slowly: a word rushed turns to seaweed and binds your ankles; a word that knows how to wait becomes a pearl and lights the way.