[Flashback] Drowning is a strange way to meet people (Sable)

[Wrenmae]

"A floating home..." Wrenmae murmured, "Like a wagon but with no roads, only currents." It felt right to say, to think of the sea as a collection of invisible roads that connected all shores. Was that it then? Laviku only paved the sea in glass to create another way to travel? What if some currents ran to no shore, but only to the center of the sea? What if some currents reunited one with earth in a different way, tearing them beneath the waves to touch the cold, muddy bottom.

It was hard to imagine.

"How big IS your family?" Again, another question to fill a silence that needed no interruption. The ocean hugged them, embraced them with all the gentle insistence of a mother, reminding yet distant. The waves sloshed only briefly over the float, spreading salty pray across Wrenmae's face. He sputtered sideways, gagging on the taste, coughing and looking back, embarrassed. Red seemed to have spooled in his cheeks, widening across his face like a soft blaze.

They were close and he was in love, the grateful sort that accompanied the recently saved. It was not a hard face to love, full of vibrant purpose and mischievous personality...deeper still was a resonate wisdom far greater than her age would suggest.

He wondered briefly if she were a god.

On his skin, her fingers tapped into wells of sensation, deeply hidden by the cool water across them. Ants crawled beneath his skin, worming warmth across his arm and up to his shoulder, pushing the blush in his cheeks till they threatened to burn the water around them.

"What kind of magic?" he asked suddenly, kicking suddenly and viciously beneath himself to raise him farther over the float. Although the shore loomed, he could not feel the bottom with his feet and the idea of such a height, even floating, was uncomfortable.

"I can...change, I guess, morphing is what it's called." he talked to fill the silence, unsure if he erred, "Not that I don't like what you did...erm, I just...well." He was quiet a moment, eyes closed.

"It doesn't bother me that you know magic," he said at last, "I think that makes you more alluring."

He felt he could speak frankly here, just the two of them and the sea. The ocean, after all, only spoke in rises and falls of water, muttering secrets in the tide that none could understand. If they were alone, he could speak.

He had nothing to lose...at least nothing more than if she had not opted to dredge him from the depths.

She saved his life, and honesty was the least of a pittance he could offer her.

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

Adrift in Laviku’s caresses, Wrenmae’s questions and chatter disseminated around them. Even as his insatiable curiosity wafted away on the southern winds, his face attracted and concentrated the entirety of a sunset’s fire. Spray leapt toward their faces but Sable closed her eyes and turned away, quirking a small smile as he sputtered. It happened to the best of them. Even she was not immune to the contrary nature of salt water invading certain tender areas. A hint of salt up her nose and she’d be snorting and snuffing for ten chimes straight to alleviate the burn. “We have four Palivars and several Casinors, it’s hard to keep track but there are about fifty of us. We don’t always travel together. My mother is the Lia, so I’m usually with the largest group on the main ship.” Head cocked back to absorb Syna’s gift, her skin glowed in that shade between golden duskiness and tan bronze. “We specialize in ship repair and building, so we’re always been sent for.” Lips parted, the faint tickle of salty air brushing across her tongue as she took in a content breath. She answered to sate his current curiosity, but her mind still focused on the more important matter at hand. As his limbs twisted in the water she disengaged, allowing him space to move without her interference. Arms skimming through the water to either side, back and forth, she treaded without thought. After a second, one long stare into his trusting eyes and a single blink to shutter brilliant blue, she extended a hand, kicking harder to remain buoyant, palm up between them. Undulating water stilled, turning glassy around the elegant appendage, and in the very center of her palm the sky tugged at the thin layer, a small peak flickering. “I can become one with water and air, wrap my essence through the gods’ creations and give them life.” One had little use for a technical label for a practical skill so far from scholarly pursuits. The little peak stretched heavenward, listing to the left in the breeze, and a few drops popped off the end to float above their heads. Soon the peak, stretched into a stream, gurgled in pursuit. The fountain capped just over them, releasing fat little drops to shower down. Circles echoed out around them, like rain in a puddle, distorting but not obscuring the sluggish current of water moving to join and fly skyward. The unnatural rain splattered on Sable’s head, and jagged streams caressed the contours of her face as they rushed back to join their brethren. Here, with Wrenmae’s concentrated attention and adoration, they felt like the only two in the world, in the open seas, and Sable gave no mind to prying eyes. Her other hand, kicking doubly furiously now, reached out to enclose the nebulous column within a loose cage. Just as her fingers closed around it, white glass, stemming from her point of contact, raced along its length and trapped the fountain, sealed amorphous water into a solid form. The water stilled and Sable offered the mushroom-topped staff to the boy. Breathing exacerbated by the magical exertion, her eyes scoured the features of his face for any hint of dangerous reaction. Treading calmly once more, a faint trace of res lingered in her palm, just in case defense was necessary. Only family knew of these skills, of the uncomfortable encounter that lead to them, and beat caution into her. Wrenmae’s inquisitive nature and the way his heart had beat while wrapped within her djed precluded suspicious wariness while speaking in abstracts, but a physical gesture often provoked strong reactions even within those that loved Sable unconditionally. Wrenmae's masculine face, the visceral sensation from looking into his earth eyes and watching him processing the surrounding world, tying little tidbits together and producing a greater concept, engendered a light fluttering with her chest, excitement and inspiration. “I would like to see your changes, if that’s possible. I know of people that naturally exist as animals and great veils of light that surround them while they switch realms of existence. You are one of those, Wrenmae Egyptus Sek?”

[Wrenmae]

He spun on invisible currents, caught by the gentle caress of sea. In one moment he was facing her, earth to sea as their eyes explored each other and then he was staring at the far shore, the glimmer of the sun off the cusp of waves, then back to her, the manipulation of water. Reimancy. He'd seen it before, Kit had also showed the ability to manipulate the world around her. Something inside Wrenmae rose suddenly at the realization, grasped at a line of desire and held it. He wanted that ability as well, one more aspect of the world that dissolved around him, made it easier to understand.

"Lia," he said, stretching the syllable out, tasting it, "What is a Lia?" Truth be told, the Svefra were the fast talking enigmas of the sea. Apart from their blonde hair and blue eyes, Wrenmae was hard pressed to see a difference between them and him. Perhaps Laviku noted their prayers a bit more readily...but what constituted a Svefra? Blood? Color? Or was there some sort of water spirit hidden in their skin, coiling around veins and vessels, differences hidden behind a facade of likeness? It was hard to say in any case, and Wrenmae was not too overbold to ask. He faced her again, kicking gently toward her as he watched the water she had summoned rise and fall.

Rise and fall.

She was the waves for that moment...a goddess in her own right, one given birth from the seafoam and form by the petulant wind.

"I...am not," he answered her, frowning, "But I know a bit about what you're talking about...just not much." He shook his head, pulling Djed from within him to the surface of his skin, his eyes, his hair. By small degrees, brightening as more changed, his dark hair shone illustrious gold and his eyes blinked blue into their depths, banishing earth and replacing them with a color similar to Sable's. His skin tanned, only by small degrees, a hint of bronze leeching the pale.

After he had finished, he might have been mistaken for one of her kind, perhaps even related. He smiled hesitantly, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. "I...I can do more, but some of the transformations I know are dangerous." He slid back into the water, his eyes peeking above the bladder. "With enough practice," he mumbled, his words garbled by the water, "I could be you, or a dockworker, or even an old man...if you think of the body as a palate to paint on, the possibilities are supposedly endless."

Silent a moment, he floated, then kicked toward her, his eyes bright with query. "I could...teach you...but in return I want to do what you can do, be one with the air and the sea. It's called Reimancy, isn't it? I was reading a book on it before I...well, before I got hurled into the water. I think it's on your boat now."

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

“Each Pod has an eldest female and she is their leader. She is their Lia,” Sable explained the basic premise, breaking off chunks of the ice fountain and setting them loose in the world. Perhaps someday they would meet one another again, strangers with new faces but sharing one little piece of the same history. Despite concern, he’d taken the unnatural appearance of the fountain remarkably well. Hunger had flared and abated, replaced by the resolve of a plan to get all his questions and curiosities answered. “Perhaps Laviku sought to teach you a lesson this morning, Wrenmae Egyptus Sek. You must always accept him into you if you seek him out, either dockside or deckside.” Sable latched on to his newly painted forearms once more, pulling close enough for steady undulating kicks to infuse heat into the water rolling over his legs. A rounded wave lifted and deposited them significantly closer to the shore. Sand wafted up between their toes. Azure hues, reflecting the depth and beauty of Laviku’s domain, peered into the wondrous new spirit Wrenmae embodied. “Leave all vestiges of land behind you if you brave his mercy. He is not patient, but his fury is short lived. You survived this time, but you must never test him again.” Her fingers twined within spun gold, the back of her hand brushing against his tanned temple. It was more than a tan, the very base shade of his skin had bronzed. It…inspired awe. “You will never be one of his people, but he will not overlook your offering, this offering. It will please him.” It certainly pleased her as coral colored lips quivered just a hair’s breadth from his, hungry eyes taking in this new man. “You understand then that I do not wish to reject my deity, as a change like this would certainly be.” Shifting sand and sharp seashells firmed beneath them, and Sable stood. Ocean’s wash pushed firmly against them, urging them bodily toward dusty shore. The Svefra stood stalwart, waving like kelp within the current, pushed but never unanchored. “And I see that you will learn to meld yourself with the elements whether or not I help you. It’s not a good experience.” Grotesque drippings writhed within the shadows of ocean eyes, memories bursting up whether or not she wanted them. Memories that could never be seen through the rose colored lens of any sort of desire for the transformation. “I don’t know that I could do that to you.” His bright eyes, no longer so bright, wrapped round her heart and clenched. “What I did to you this morning was a small, small gesture compared to what will happen to you.” Her footing slipped at an insistent wave.

[Wrenmae]

As sand touched his toes, encouraged them to root and burrow through coarse caress, Wrenmae stopped himself beside Sable. The winds and waves buffeted against his body, pushing him toward the shore, but his legs her strongly rooted against the surface beneath him and he waited with Sable. Her eyes glistened, wet with water from the sea and a sort of inner vitality. He was quiet, nodding as she spoke and looked down at his arms. He would never been one of Laviku's people, and although a small part of him yearned for that connection, to swim beneath the waves and become one with such fascinating people like Sable...it was denied him. He was a murderer. Family killer, the waves seemed to whisper, murderer...but Wrenmae tried to put it from his mind. "Are you all born to the sea...or can someone become a part as well?" He wanted to say 'Can I become family' but the words escaped him and vanished with the tide. A thought struck him, suddenly, and he looked at her almost curiously, appraisigly, his eyes running up and down her body briefly. "I...err," he was quiet, this sounded strange, even to him, "Morphing isn't just about changing cosmetically...I could look like you, if I wanted, erm...I mean, I could practice and then..." He trailed off, "But I've never tried a full body change like that before..." The idea interested him, at least a little. What limits did he have on his ability to change? Could he take the form of animals? Of other people? Before he'd always assumed weapons and cosmetics, but now it seemed far more than that. It seemed...dangerous, and exhilarating all at once. "I remember this morning...was that what it's like?" He shivered. "Painful...I can't believe Kit's dad would..." but he trailed off again. Looking up to her and straightening, nodding to her. "I want to study magic, know its shapes and designs. I promise to endure...whatever trial is necessary." He lowered his eyes, suddenly shy. Her gaze was so serene, so full, so wind-strong. "That is...if you'd be willing to show me."

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

Uncertainty darkened brilliant hues, hesitation latching upon expressive lips. Wrenmae asked much. Tendrils of their conversation, so simple on the surface, reached deeply into troubling waters. Sable wondered if he knew whence he tread. His hands, large and thick within her own possessive grasp, hadn’t felt the alternating burn and stab of coarse wire bristles from a frayed line, hadn’t been skeleton shriveled by sun and salt. Could he, or anyone like him, survive with the Pods? Most would not be given the chance, each landlubber carried the same sins against her people. Yet…his eyes. They held Laviku now, silvery reflective blue. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps Laviku granted this one mud lover a precious portion of himself. Perhaps she was here to show him the way. “Your body is no longer yours.” It should have been a question, a bewildered neophyte taking tentative steps toward an understanding of his magic. “Your kind have a strange notion of objects, you hoard them. My kind own,” the notion was clearly not her own and fell awkwardly from her lips, “only what we need when we need it. I need myself.” Her hand, glistening, splayed over her sopping shirt, above her breasts. “This face, this body, it is a sister, a daughter. It is in use.” She paused, teeth worrying her lower lip for a moment. “Maybe someday you will have a need for practicing a full body change like this, and you will need this face more than I do, but it should not be taken just because you ‘wanted’ it.” She let them drift closer to shore. “That’s not what I meant when I said your body is no longer your own. When you accept Laviku, you must submit to him. I am more than a skin tone and blue eyes, I am Svefra,” she told him, willing him to imagine the tight knit root system extending from her singular existence to the identity of an entire people and that of the gods. “I am Laviku’s child. You must thank the water father for his presence with you now. If you continue down this path, you will be more than yourself.” “I believe you were punished this morning for snubbing him, that he desires this change in you when you near him. For that, you will always be welcome on my ship. For that, I will not deny you a stronger kinship with the water father.”

[Wrenmae]

His heart trembled, held for an imperceptible moment between terror and awe. The way she touched him, spoke to him. It was hard to imagine her as she was, a girl of similar age in a supple, spry body...like a new yew tree. She seemed, in those instants, wiser and more than the sum total of her parts. She did not glisten, she shined, she did not breathe, she absorbed, she did not speak, she sang. The sea itself seemed to rise and fall with her tone, gentle and encouraging. It was impossible to hold it in the same mute horror as he had held it before, when it was black and he was light, sinking to its depths. Laviku, the name was evocative, but not in the same way Vayt's was. The Plague god shrouded himself in finery, dancing on the ashes of the weak and the wretched as he supped from jeweled goblets. The rich smoke of his cigar was the herald of his possessive wickedness, in death, none could keep what was left behind...Vayt was there to scoop them up and add them to his own collection. Laviku, in comparison, was the stern father of the everywhere. The tumultuous surface of the sea, the way the water bounced and rolled. His will spun the foam to dance and with Zulrav's cooperation, made even the sky loose his tears upon the soil...or was that another? Around him, the sense of vastness was encompassing. He heard the word 'svefra' and it conjured a surprising sense of family, of connection. They were all linked, then, all under Laviku...or rather, with Laviku. More was beyond the skin, beyond the words, beyond the color of ones eyes. That whole within him, potent, gnawing, growing, was suddenly filled with possibility. Friendship and companionship no matter where on the seas the sail would bring him. He would be free...in a certain sense, tainted only by the Blight that followed his footfalls. But maybe he could even escape that. The way she had described herself, her face, her body...he felt sudden shame at the thought of taking it for his own, even temporarily. It was foolish...something that grew within him like lichen, splayed across his heart in sulfurous desires. He pushed them aside for now, glancing up at her and holding her expression with his own, smiling as confidently as he could...but it waned shyly. "I...thank Laviku then," he said at least, quietly, more to the water than to her, "For sparing me...and..." he looked up, "For sending one of his children to save me...I'm grateful." Shaking his head he stepped near to her, taking her hands from above her breasts and holding them with his, bringing them back against his chest where his heart thumped painfully against his ribcage. "Tell me how, then, how to be...erm...how to be a part of your family. I've lost my own, the mountains took them,"I took them, "I want to belong again, to someone, to anyone...to have a family again." He let her hands go, blinking. It was too much, he'd been too forward. "I..." He was quiet again, letting his arms fall slack, fingers catching and parting the water, "I'm sorry, I am too bold."

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

He understood, his blue eyes deepened and splintered with Svefran constellation, and it was vindication for her understanding of their relationship. His kinship soared, cutting through atmosphere to take its place, a cornerstone to a formation that hadn’t known it was missing anything. She didn’t let him let go, her fingers, slender and rough, caught his as he tried to put distance between them. She wanted to gather his apology back up, return it to his lips, words never released to the powers of the world. The girl, hip then ankle deep as the waves lulled, had seen his embarrassment, wonderment, and trepidation at her words. He understood—the implications of his gift as seen through her eyes, the implication of each of them in the organic web. He did not question, he trusted. He felt small. “I thank Laviku for allowing me the opportunity to welcome you among his children first. You are the only one I know,” hues brilliant as any coastal waters of azure emerald, Sable dropped one of his hands and led them against the oceans pull to the edge of the water line. These forested shores didn’t invite rest and relaxation way the southern ones did, but they weren’t leaving the water yet. She folded to her knees, drawing him down in front of her, where the water intermittently lapped at their legs. Clothing, sticky and vaguely showing the tint of flesh, clung stubbornly to sleek limbs, but Syna’s rays worked quickly on a hot day like this. She held his request in mind, just as she held his hands on her knees, and the magnitude of it made her lips tug into a crooked smile. “Throwing yourself at families seems like a good way to get suckered,” the girl observed with wry humor, shaking out slicked hair and infusing some fluffy volume back into the curls. “I can do no more than tell you what we hold holy…and then explain all the cultural references.” An eyebrow quirked wryly. “Everything else you have to learn with us, with a Pod. Embracing our laws will get you far, but to be accepted you have to gain the favor of the Lia. Then you will be given her last name and will once more shed your identity.” She paused, recalling tidbits of his past shared thus far. There was only one question lingering in the back of her mind, one question that stalled the release of knowledge. “Wrenmae Egyptus Sek, when your family was taken by the mountains, is that when you changed your name?” That might be forgivable, might ease the foggy apprehension she had for him. Otherwise, he seemed earnest and trustworthy, but to the family oriented Svefran, it seemed that changing his name was akin to rejecting pod life and attempting to be a loner. It was unheard of. But he had a lot going in his favor; grief from unexpectedly losing family often caused reckless behavior.

[Wrenmae]

Sitting in the shallows beside her, his blonde hair drying by Zulrav's absent-minded caress, he felt small. Still that feeling assailed him, looking out at the wide ocean, the casinor floating a ways away in the tide. How could something so large be traversable? It was a desert of water, a rolling landscape of tempestuous storms and unseen dangers. Shivering, Wrenmae held one arm around his knees, the other hand clasped in her own. The warmth was comforting, a blanket of security in a wide world of mystery. The float was behind him now, quietly knocking up against the sand of the shore. He reached back and grabbed it, pulling it near. He didn't want to lose something that wasn't his to lose. "I'll have to say goodbye to my friends here," he said at last, smiling sadly, "But that's part of traveling, right? Making friends in faraway places, returning to see them...living, expanding..." He shook his head. Alric would miss him, and he would miss him as well...but the Wilmot manor was Alric's and his father was Alric's. Even after all this time, he still felt like an accessory at the home. His adopted parents were dead now, plague laid them low. He would not do the same here. They were much hardier. Did he not deserve a place in this world? "I always felt so alone," he answered, looking out the waves breaking in the distance, "I suppose I've always been lucky that no one was using me to their advantage...but I see what you mean." He nodded at her words, trying to weigh the importance behind them. He would be one of them, the fair haired seafolk traveling on the open sea. He would be something more than what he was, something different. Part of him wished the shedding of his identity meant the shattering of Vayt's influence, but it was a part of him now, true as any blood pumping in his veins. But he would not tell her. No one should know. He thought of the mountains, his red haired brother, his sister lying swaddled in blankets. Gasps, choking, breath that filled with phlegm and death. Vayt...the cigar smoke. The deal. He closed his eyes "Yes, I changed my name. I blamed myself for what happened to them, why I survived and they didn't. I guess I didn't feel like I deserved to be called a son or brother anymore...not by the dead." He sighed, the tides within him cold and bottomless. "I want to be part of something again, I do. I'll do whatever it takes." He looked up at Sable and smiled. "Whatever it takes." Blinking, he looked back to the shore and then forward, to the Casinor. "Would you...would you teach me reimancy though...before we go?" He shrugged his shoulders, guilty, smiling. "I want to better myself and maybe knowing a bit of your arts will make me seem...more valuable."

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

Pain and guilt sloughed off the boy with every curl that lapped up; Laviku took such things, though, and disseminated them irretrievably. If Wrenmae could release them, the Sea would take them. If he held on, he would simply become a source of miniscule pollution. The abrupt shift from such depth, much unspoken, to shallow request surprised the rutilant spirit watching the play of water. Her gaze, probing and perceptive, swiveled to dig in to his guilty smile. She blinked twice and Zulrav’s caress swept away judgment. A lone droplet lingered at the tip of a jaunty lock of his hair, when it fell the vile concoction that dripped off the dock back in Alvadas fell with it. Shuttered hues watched the spot it disappeared next to him, though there was no milky cloud to mark it. “When I woke, my family summoned Lia Jutchini of the Kelp Dance pod. She explained to me that when I’d become injured during the capsizing of my cousin’s casinor, the wounds allowed the essences to enter. I often tell myself it was a gift of the gods, of Laviku and finally Zulrav. But that Semele and Ivak could one day also see fit to bless me with communion.” Sable was gone, reverted to a child laying limp in the dark confines of a ship, hovered over by women salt sucked of vitality. “She explained that my experience, my ‘initiation,’ had not been a test of faith at all, but the will of a mortal. Any mortal, any gender, a horse heathen or a Pycon puddle.” For long moments, the girl was a flat gaze watching blood flow through joined hands. “Can you use your…art to open yourself?” That was what he'd called her affinity for the essences. Wrenmae’s hand, a claw earlier this morning digging through unforgiving wood in search of peace, was turned over as she studied the injuries he’d sustained. Blue brushed over the cut on his head before locking gazes. Very likely, learning to manipulate the essences of those four gods would not ingratiate him to her mother. Rupelia valued wood and fishing and sewing skills, she did not appreciate the constant chore of keeping Sable’s ‘magic’ hidden. But he would learn anyway. His half-excuse simply served as a means of helpfully expressing the skill he would learn, not the true reason. He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to know. His desire to experience a family, however, she was quite sure stemmed from a genuine instinctual need. The Water Father made this so, and it would be. Perhaps someday he would share the events and ideas that sculpted storm-debris across his features, perhaps someday he would trust her as she trusted their fate together. Without knowing why, she forestalled him, her motions, leaning forward and clenching his forearm, abrupt and earnest. “You have not let go of what happened to your family, you cannot let go of the you that was involved with them. You deceive yourself, it is weak. Egyptus is still within you, conflicting with Wrenmae Sek. When we adopt a new name, our separation, our break, from our past life is done in peace. We carry our past connections with us, whatever they may be, and they are a strength as we look forward. Whatever it is that you fear or distrust within yourself, you must face or no family will ever satisfy you. Whether you are son to Svefra or brother to your mountain family, you are son and brother and cannot escape that.” It wasn’t her place to judge whether he’d somehow caused the death of his family, or simply felt as though he did. She would never know whether his siblings or parents still referred to him as their relation as they conversed with Dira. She did know that the heart so fleetingly beneath her djed now beat at Laviku’s will. “If you want, I will help.” The offer dropped with honey love, ready for either immediate enjoyment or indefinite storage. Sable was ready to leave it at that, there was so much she wanted him to understand, but lacked the words and the concepts with which to convey these complex feelings. She was dissatisfied with the current statements, but maybe they would serve positively for a later discussion.