One hundred and forty-six days later…
Selene gazed at the glowing rim of Falyndar’s shores that had appeared on the horizon since yesterday. After one hundred and forty-six days at sea the mounds seemed to float impossibly on Laviku’s back, like giant green Svefran children frolicking on his surface. When she had boarded The Zealot, her poor translation of the Fratava name, The Believer into Symenos, her secret was hidden in the emaciate knobby length of her body and she had even been able to hide early morning sickness by blaming the expected sea sickness, but given her impossible slightness as a Symenestra and her particularly emaciate appearance her growing plumpness was soon recognized for what it was.
Early in the journey many of the Svefra had voiced their displeasure loudly to the Lia that a Symenestra should be allowed on board. The Lia, Diondra Oceangem, an elderly experienced mother and leader had quieted the dissent with reassuring smiles and various words of wisdom,
“You dun tink we can’all better that willow whip of a child?” or,
“’Ave any of yah seen da lass bear a bit o’ steel? I dun tink yah’d ‘ave more sense den tah tink a legless lass could be dangerous. Buck up now, your courage is leakin’ down yah leg!” Before winking conspiratorially at Selene.
Of course, Diondra knew everything, she had been as wary as her crew to allow the Sym aboard her ship. Not because she feared for her families safety, but because she didn’t wish to aid and abet a Sym on a Harvest. Selene had begged Diondra to hear her out, sensing the Lia could not be bribed to put away her moral compass – rumours in Lhavit had convinced Selene that Diondra was as upstanding as they came, relying on her moral compass as much as her literal one to guide her family. It was these very rumours that had Selene searching out the white-haired matron.
With an openness unnatural to the secretive Sym, Selene had explained her predicament in total and complete honesty. Diondra had stared at her silently, weighing her words carefully, but her candidness had been rewarded when Diondra had graciously agreed to help her escape Lhavit, with the promise of silks from Kalinor in exchange. Selene’s sister had helped her bring the chest, meant for sale in Lhavit, to the ship and soon Selene and her sister were exchanging a rushed tearful farewell as the ships prepared to set sail.
Since then, in the hundred and forty six days since leaving Lhavit, the Svefra discomfort had eased as her reputation for being hardworking and docile grew, helped by the image of her swelling belly. Suspicion and hostility were replaced by warmth and comradery. Few had pried into why a pregnant Sym was travelling alone, but a pregnant Sym certainly wasn’t part of a Gleaning or Harvest they had rationalized. Plus, the winter storms and fickle winds had kept them occupied and Selene below deck for a large portion of the early trip.
However, with spring sprung and the winds they had fought coming south from Lhavit now whisking them quickly north toward Syka, the days and night were filled with parties, games and storytelling. Pleased to be included Selene made fast friends, especially with the mothers and young children aboard. Her mind drifted fondly over the memories that had made the anxiety of her departure easier to bear.
“What ‘as you lookin’ so serious little seal?”
Grabbing the top of her wide-brimmed hat with one hand to keep it from flying off in the wind Selene turned, wrinkling her nose and squinting into the sun.
“Dun tell me you gun miss us?” The chirping voice chortled and stepped up beside her. The almost six foot Svefran, Pelly Oceangem, scooped her thick blond curls out of her face to look down at the Sym. Pelly and Selene had become almost inseparable, bonded early as the only two in the pod carrying their first child. Pelly, known to no one expect her grandmother Diondra as Pelican, had been the first one to notice Selene’s condition and had taken responsibility for teaching the new mother what to expect during her first pregnancy. Much further along, her newborn had been born within 10 days of Lhavit and was now almost five months old. While Selene had shirked under the doting originally, as the eldest daughter she was used to being the hero and provider, her fear had conquered her pride and allowed the relationship to develop.
Pelly had begun calling Selene “Seal” when the Sym’s feet had begun to swell and Pelly had said she was spending so much time with the Svefra she was growing her very own caudal fin. It caught on when her son, Crane’s, first word was “Seal” while reaching up greedily for the Sym. Selene’s normally ashen face had flushed with such glee, that the nickname was adopted by the whole crew.
“Of course not, I can’t wait to get off this giant crib!” Selene ribbed, jabbing her bony elbow into the Svefras ribs (the highest she could reach on the towering figure).
“Awe, I dun know, I dun think you’ll ken a wrestful ni’s sleep un land witout Laviku’s cradle rockin’” She wrapped a reassuring arm around the little Syms form. Despite herself, Selene leaned into the affection, the action making Pelly’s lips set themselves into a small o as she realized how nervous the Sym was about landing in Syka. The moon was a giant Syna-bright orb in the sky, casting such a bright light on the two women they could easily read each other’s faces.
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