8th Day of Fall, 518 AV, 18th Bell
“And so we commit Karigan Crestwidow back to Laviku’s domain…”
The funeral rites droned on, but all Kailani could hear was a hollow ringing in her ears. She’s gone. This is real. How could we have been so stupid? The thoughts kept repeating themselves over and over, a cycle of self-inflicted torture that she was helpless to stop. It wasn’t her fault…it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but that didn’t stop the blame, the grief. The fact remained that their Lia was the best of them all, and she was dead. Life would never be the same.
Kailani could hardly bear to look as they heaved her mother’s body up and over the side of The Wayward Tabernacle, red-rimmed oceanic eyes filling with tears once more as she clutched tight to her sister Layla’s hand. When Karigan’s body splashed into the ocean just as the sun dipped below the horizon, a keening cry rang out over the waves. It took Kailani a moment to realize it came from her own mouth.
Her lips were not the only ones that cried out, however—as far as the eye could see, Svefra ships filled the surrounding ocean. The air was laden with shouts and exclamations of sorrow, sobs ripped from the most grizzled of throats. Karigan Crestwidow had been a well-known and well-respected Lia; different pods from miles around had come to attend her funeral. The sheer numbers were overwhelming and heartwarming alike. It was almost as if a Nal’lyeo had been called, the Svefra family gathering together to see off one of their own.
Arms wrapped around the other, the sisters fell to their knees. They clung to each other in their grief and loss, tears drenching their hair and faces as their sobs wove an agonized counterpoint to the chorus of mourning ringing across the sea. The creatures of Laviku’s domain came to share in the Svefra’s bereavement, as well. Whales, dolphins, rays, and even a few sharks gathered to pay their last respects, the various tavan making temporary peace with each other as they bid farewell to Karigan. One shark in particular, a grizzled old tiger shark the Crestwidows knew all too well, swam down with the Lia’s body as she sank into the depths below. Those members of the pod who had managed to remain steady until then finally broke down as they watched their Pardisa accompany their Lia to her final rest.
It seemed bells passed before Kailani rose from the deck of the palivar, Layla’s hands clutched tight in her own. What would happen now? Without Karigan to lead them, would the pod continue on? Would the others splinter off? Would the Crestwidow pod be no more? Those thoughts and others were present in both the women’s gazes, unspoken but nonetheless mutually understood. At least in all of this uncertainty, they had each other. Certainly that would never change.
Kailani looked around them as if seeing the ship for the first time, ale running through the deck’s inhabitants like it was water. Feasts were being served on all the nearby palivars, music thundering into the night. It was a fitting tribute to the legacy of her mother’s vivacious lifestyle, but the blue-eyed seafarer felt only emptiness. Releasing her sister’s fingers, she grabbed a jug of ale from the nearest pair of hands she could find, and drained the rest of it in three long gulps. The one she’d stolen it from briefly thought about protesting, but upon seeing the bleakness in Kailani’s face, he thought better of it. Let her have her ale.
The Svefra woman hardly even realized what she’d done, letting the empty jug fall to the deck as she walked over to the side of the ship. Gazing out over the moonlit ocean, she bit her lip. The tides of her life were shifting, and she wasn’t sure she wished to follow the direction they pulled her. What do I do now? Kailani pled silently with her dead mother, leaning on the rail with her head in her hands. Everything’s changing, and I don’t know how to navigate it all without you.
All is flux, Kailani, the memory of Karigan’s voice replied gently in her head, a replay of a conversation they’d had only weeks before. As life goes on, you will fight, you will endure, and you will learn that nothing ever remains the same. It is up to you to learn to roll with the changes. Those who can’t adapt can’t survive. And you, my girl, have always been a survivor.