[Flashback] A Lia's Word (Sable)

[Wrenmae]

Seafoam and droplets of light, scattered and cascaded from where Sable had vanished. Wrenmae followed her progress, at least for a moment, his eyes dancing off the curve of her form as it entered the waves and long after it had passed, to the sea beneath. He sighed, coughing and taking breaths. The salt water stung his eyes, made his nose run, filled his mouth with salty touch. However, if the girls were bothered by it, they showed no discomfort. Sybil surfaced to drop off her bounty, her chest heaving with the effort, leaving little to imagine beneath the water slick-shirt. Choosing to retreat rather than stand his ground, the young storyteller ducked beneath the water again, pulling himself down by the anchor chain. It was a little easier now, not by much, but a bit. He dug in the sand while his breath swelled out his chest. Stones, oddly shaped rocks, he threw them all into the net around him, filling it with the weighted projectiles. When he could take no more, he leaped to the surface, dragging his load behind him, gasping as he broke the waves and hung wretchedly onto the side of the boat. He offered the girls a weak smile, sorting out the useless stones from their quarry, tossing in four oysters rather than the one. Taking a deep breath again, he clamored over the edge of the boat and fell longways across its length. "I'm..." he gasped, his narrow chest rising and falling in short successions, "Not all that cut out to be an oyster diver...I think."

[Sable Baggywrinkle]

Weighted down with stones matching the youthful storyteller’s, Sable struggled toward flickering liquid glass. Strong kicks and deep chest pulls seemed to make her sink as much as swim. But eventually she burst through the surface with a desperate gasp. Struggling forward, clutching the edge of the small boat, a laugh of oceanic swell erupted past dripping lips. “I think the oyster’s might win this round,” sunlight glinted of a flash of white teeth. The teenager shrugged out of the net and heaved it over the edge to clatter down on top of Wren’s bounty. Elbows thrust over the splintered dry wood, the glistening girl reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. Sybil swung onto the aft edge, liquid diamond pouring off her in thin sheets, and alighting into the vessel with hardly disturbing it atop undulating waves. Her net boasted significant bulges compared to theirs. “What are you two land lubbers doing up here?” the competent woman demanded, setting sopping net next to the boy’s sprawled length. She retrieved a handful of small sea vegetables and tossed them back, chewing quickly. “You know, if the oyster thing isn’t for you, I’ve got something else you can do.” Sable eyed her suspiciously, as though the water drops streaming down curves would align and help her decide whether to agree or not. “It doesn’t involve swimming.” Pity for Wren forced immediate agreement and the spiritual young lass pulled herself into the boat next to her charge. “Shell the oysters. Find the pearls and save the good meat.” Sable frowned, this obviously wasn’t her idea of a good time. “I’ll be back in a bit,” Sybil informed them with a cheerful grin and dropped out of sight. Dutifully, the girl fetched a knife and an oyster. “Well, I’ve never done this before. Have you?” Wedging the knife between the crease, Sable tried to pry it open. Fingers were littered with small cuts before long.

[Wrenmae]

Wrenmae clutched at the uneven ridges of his oyster, prying a knife between the stony lips and prying, cutting his finger in the process and hissing, dropping it to the bottom of the boat. He saw Sable look to him with concern and he tried to wave her off, smiling. "I...I guess I'm not so cut out for this either," he murmured, almost defeated, picking it up again, "Do you think the Lia will even want me?" He pried the oyster open, it clucked at him with a release of air and pressure, a light pop. He put it aside and picked up another. "I mean, will your sister speak against me? I haven't exactly proven myself very well.." He shrugged his shoulders, almost despairing again, tearing open the next one and putting it aside. Blood circled his hand in crimson droplets, glistening in the sun. "What other skills will they be interested in?" He asked at last, tearing open a third and setting it aside, "I can cast magic, but you said that wasn't as interesting...would they like my stories, you think?" His blade bit into another oyster, and something stopped it...something small and black that fell out when he tore it open. Picking it up and turning it over in his hand his eyes widened. A black pearl. "Sable?" he asked, holding it out to her, "What do you make of this?