I knew that that flash of pink was no normal sea creature.

It writhes in my net, this bizarre thing, cutting itself against the rough rope. After it realizes I’m keeping it trapped but not killing it, it stops.

“Hello, Wishmonger,” I say.

It wriggles, and then a bulbous eye lifts out of the water to gaze at my face.

“I know what you are, and I’ve rightfully caught you,” I say.

The eye falls back into the water with a splash. The creature flies out of the net, and sits on the bow of my boat. There is no water dripping from it.

The Wishmonger is completely dry, and no longer a deformed sea monster.

“This was my last cycle,” the Wishmonger’s voice is sad, it senses my intent, “For your sake, I beg you, release me now. There is no purpose to a reward taken without labor.”

“Without labor?" and I chuckle, "I have spent countless days and nights in toil, to meet you.”

“I beg you,” the Wishmonger says again.

“No.”

“What is your Wish, o Foolish One?” the Wishmonger asks in a blank voice.

“I Wish to always be able to find you again, Wishmonger.”

The Wishmonger makes a terrible sound, and my nerves shatter.

And then the Wishmonger is gone, and my net empty.

A faint pulsing starts in my heart, a tug towards something familiar.

I know where the Wishmonger is.

It takes me four years to find the Wishmonger after our first encounter by the sea. My heart pulls me to a fog covered, snow bound mountain, where it has chosen to hide itself far up in. Catching it proves to be the bigger problem.

This time, I Wish for a chain of binding, so that our next encounter will not be so tiresome.

Our third encounter is our last for many, many years. Over these past years, since our first encounter by the sea, the constant chase has aged me. When the WIshmonger lies tired and beaten in the chain of binding, glaring at me for the action I commit now, and the cruelty I have imposed upon it for all these years, the smallest trickle of shame enters my heart. But I harden it against the humane emotion. I will get what I want.

I Wish for eternal youth.

But, the Wishmonger has gotten wise, this time around, and sees beyond the rage towards me.

"You wish for youth? Then become the meerest child!" The Wishmonger sneers up at me, from under the chain of binding.

And I am lost.

My mother assures me that the strange tugging in my heart won't cause me any harm.

"My son, sometimes our hearts yearn for something behind our ken. You are healthy and strong," she says as she smoothes my hair, "and you will be fine."

But whatever it is, it is always there.

When I am of age, I kiss my mother, whom I have learned, is my mother in the truest sense of the word, even if she didn’t bring me into the world herself, goodbye, and set out to find this yearning that consumes me.

I wander long.

My heart leads me to a magical being, who I recognize, though I don’t know how. By the same token, I know it is called the Wishmonger. It stares at me in fear when I arrive, and I recoil from it's expression of loathing.

“What have I done?” I whisper, “Why do you stare at me so?”

When the Wishmonger realizes that I intend no harm, a tension bleeds out of it.

It cries, true tears of heart wrenching loss, as it tells me of what I have done. The crimes my past self committed against this innocent being. My mother would be ashamed, if she knew of what I had done. I will be better than this.

“What can I do?” I sob, its tale of woe, of woe that I caused, pressed against me, “How can I fix this injustice?”

The Wishmonger gazes at me, dimmed eyes now sparked with hope.

Seeing my sincerity, the Wishmonger tells me after I’ve Wished its freedom from me, that it will stay for one more cycle. I need to change my wish for youth. The Wishmonger twisted it, made eternal youth a continual start over, and soon, I will revert to childhood all over again.

“Come and find me again, so you can fix this once and for all, and I can go home.”

Then, the Wishmonger disappears. My heart tugs me, and this time, I know where it takes me, and why.

I follow my heart, and end up in a port town, the smell of salt heavy. This is where it all began, I realize. This is where this evil business began, so many years ago.

I enquire after the availability of a boat, and manage to secure one for a decent price.

Before I take it out to meet WIshmonger, I stop at an inn for a meal. I do not know how long it has been since I’ve eaten.

That’s when everything goes wrong.

My vision is clouded. The thugs that assaulted me and emptied my pockets are long gone. They did me harm. My body, broken. I can feel my vitality ebbing.

Death is slow to take me.

The sea has called me for a long as I can remember.

When my father tells me that I am not his true son, but that he loves me all the same, I am left reeling. I need to clear my head, seperate myself from the emotions this revelation has caused.

It’s time I go to the sea.

On my first foray, I realize that it’s not just the sea that’s calling me, but something specific. It takes me months to find the particular patch of ocean, the siren's lure. I stare into the depths. Nothing jumps out and me.

The next time, I return with a fishing pole, and cast it to the spot that calls me.

What I catch makes my blood freeze

The Wishmonger introduces itself, and our shared history crashes over me. Above the sea, I drown for a moment.

It is time to make this all right.

I Wish.