Blood of the Sea, Chapter Thirteen

In the Islands

Chapter 13: Exhortation

Astrophel

The next morning Astrophel returns to his house with breakfast in his arms. His clan pools their resources, some bringing in fresh catches, others sharing what they’ve grown, and together they share meals. Shouldering in through the door, he hears humming coming from deeper in and he catches the door with his foot before it bangs shut behind him, letting it close more softly. Walking forward, his boot steps fall more quietly upon the padded floor as he smiles, hearing a familiar sea song the tribes use when sailing.

Ca-ast the sail, ra-ace the tide

Homeward we’re coming

By the end of the night.

If we drown, it’s in silver

If we live, we de-light

The Goddess, she whispers

The tide is our life.

Dionne’s footsteps fall across the floor as she dances, passing into and out of view as she moves past the door frame separating the main room from the private quarters. Wearing Astrophel’s extra clothes, on someone else they might look too big, but they fit Dionne fairly well, the material stretched over her chest a bit more tightly than how it fits Astrophel, but the shoulders match up with hers, her toned arms free of the short sleeves. The pants are slightly too long and she has the waistband rolled over on itself to make it work. Passing in front of the doorway again, Dionne stops humming and sniffs, turning to face Astrophel. She puts her hands on her hips, “Been staring for long?”

“Not long enough,” Astrophel teases her, offering a bowl of fruit, dried fish, and some bread, which she takes from him. Digging in, she folds her legs under her, sinking to the floor where she stood. Astrophel joins her, sitting cross-legged and starting in on his own food: a twin to her serving.

“I was thinking about the journal.” Dionne pauses in eating and rummages through the sealskin bag Nox had brought to Asos, retrieving the book from its guts. She takes another bite and flips through the pages, looking for something. Swallowing, she points to the page, “Here. The people to the south? I wonder if there’s actually something there.”

“Wouldn’t we know if there was?”

“What if we’ve forgotten?”

“What would be the point of forgetting?”

“It was written down.” Dionne waves the journal as if to prove her point, “I’m sure they didn’t think it would be forgotten.”

“Should we bring this to the Five?”

“They’re getting ready to step down as it is. If you want to look into it - and I for one want to - we need to talk to someone who could know more. Like Eulla’s Voice.” Dionne pushes to her feet, quickly scrapping the rest of her food onto a spoon and popping it in her mouth. Astrophel follows suit, standing, but catches Dionne’s wrist, “Eulla’s Voice isn’t going to be disturbed over a triviality. The journal could have belonged to someone from the northern barrier clan; anyone could be viewed as people to the south from that perspective.”

Dionne sighs and turns towards Astropehl. “I suppose you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to check with Tiberius’s clan. They might know more.”

“If there’s something out there, they will.”

“You sound so sure,” Dionne gives Astrophel a skeptical look.

“I’m not, but it won’t hurt to try.”

“If they don’t have answers, will you see Eulla’s Voice?”

Astrophel takes her bowl and places both of them on the table in the main room. Dionne follows him, the warmth of her hand resting on his back.

“What happened during the shoal? What did your mom say to you? What did you see?”

“I saw… the ocean. Hydrurgas looking for riders. My mother,” He glances at Dionne, “and I saw Eulla’s Voice.”

“You haven’t visited her though.”

“No, but it’s hard to mistake her for someone else.” Astrophel laughs, the sound dry and unamused.

“You’re scared of her. Of what she’ll say.”

“She’s already told me enough.”

“She spoke to you?”

“It seemed that way at least. Maybe I made it up…”

“Dream-walking can’t create conversations, Ast. That was real. If she talked to you…”

“It doesn’t have to mean some great thing.”

“What did she even say?”

Astrophel turns and faces Dionne, her eyes earnest as they search his. He sighs. “She… she said I have a story to tell. And that the hilts would be involved.”

“Of course they’re going to be involved. I told you we’re the next Five.”

“Nox doesn’t have the bloodline for it.”

“You’re really going to nitpick that right now? You heard the others. We won’t stand for Vance being one.”

“It’s not up to us…”

“No, but by Phyrlin I swear I will not see Vance be one of us. It’s us, the five of us, or nothing. Someone else can step up and take them if he’s one.” A rumble rolls through the sky, sudden in the otherwise quiet morning, only split by the cries of water-fairing birds and the occasional ‘urga barking.

Astrophel grasps Dionne’s chin, his voice hushed, “Don’t make vows you don’t intend to keep.”

She smiles at him, “Good thing I intend to keep it.”

Astrophel shakes his head, but despite himself, his lips curl upward. “What am I going to do with you?”

Dionne laughs and stalks toward the door, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Astrophel follows her, searching the sky as he steps outside, met by a gale of wind which almost pushes him back into the house. The sky is clear save for the occasional stripe of cloud. Certainly not enough of a thunderhead to make the rumble from a moment before. He frowns.

Dionne jogs down the path, hitting the rocky shoreline and clamoring down toward the water. Whistling, she lets out a vocalization and dives into the water. Astrophel sighs and throws his hands up, a laugh bubbling in his chest, “I thought we were going to take a boat?” He gets no response, Dionne being too far away to hear him, and underwater besides. Bracing himself, he sprints toward a dock that juts out past the rock border of the island and leaps into the water himself. As if on cue, Iska is there, butting her head into his arms and hauling him toward the surface as she breaches, leaping into the air and twisting before crashing back into the waves. Something else sizable crashes into the water shortly after them and even though Astrophel looks, he already knew he would see Ryju and Dionne side by side now with himself and Iska. A burbling squeaky bark zooms past with a flash of steel grey as Pyxis hurtles by, wheeling about on little flippers, their tail almost smacking them in the muzzle as they shake their neck and settle in alongside Ryju as their sire nips at them affectionately. Iska surfaces, the water peeling off her smooth hide and Astrophel pushes hair out of his face, glancing about to orient himself before nudging her toward the southern islands. They would have to stop along the way, for food and water, and for Pyxis to rest. Letting go of the idea of traveling via boat, he rubs a fist over Iska’s shoulder as she dives under with him in tow. He doesn’t begrudge Dionne for wanting to ride instead; a sense of calm washes over him as the water envelops his senses, and the drag of movement sets in as Iska lashes her tail, forcing Astrophel to crouch closer to her neck.

~

On the third day, the late afternoon softens the blue of the sky with a burnished sort of orange, hinting at the depth of the oncoming night. Swimming along the surface, the water below him darkening as the hours drag on, Astrophel lets Iska pull him against the tumble of the tide as she shakes her head, tail propelling them through the water as the piers of Yerevan come into view. Ship builders by nature, their piers are stocked with both dry and wet docks containing half built longboats, sail boats, and the smaller reef-bound fishing boats all bobbing along in various states of construction or completion. Wave-skipping birds dive in amongst the commotion of the workers, looking for scraps of food from lunch. As Iska and Ryju glide closer, the waves pulling them in, a worker tosses a crust of bread high overhead. Immediately shrieks call out as the birds swarm to the offering, pecking at one another as they fight for the morsel. Webbed feet slap on feathers as they caterwaul through the sky. A group of workers laugh and move on, picking up boards, sanding, smoothing, moving them to a different location. The sticky smell of caulk reaches Astrophel’s nose as Iska and Ryju shift away from the piers, around the southern end of Yerevan, toward Tiberius’s longhouse.

It takes another hour to round enough of the island to get to where the longhouse no longer plays hide and seek in and out of view from where Astrophel is on the water. Dusk paints the water in hazy stripes of pink and orange, the sea itself turning purple as a runner ignites the torches one at a time along the paths winding their way across Yerevan. A sudden spotlight casts out across the water, causing Astrophel to turn his attention toward the interior of the island. A tower with a newly lit bonfire blazes into the darkening sky as the four directional mirrors cast the light out over the harbors, for one, providing light to those working late, and for another, offering both warning and guidance to the ships which might still be out. The shore leading up to Tiberius’ longhouse is sloped for ‘urgas to have easy access, though Astrophel has seen plenty of boats in the past take advantage of it and dock closer to the building, tie lines being tossed around a tree trunk rather than worry about throwing anchor. Iska and Ryju sway out of the water, the wave retreating and leaving them halfway up the slope. Iska scents the air and turns to Astrophel as if to say ‘all clear’ while Ryju puffs up his chest and barks.

Up at the house, a door swings open and in the dim light of evening, the figure is near indistinguishable until the voice barks in return, “What do you want?”

Dionne slides free of Ryju, rubbing the bridge of his nose before sloshing her way up the sloped walkway. “It’s Dionne of Thiene and Astrophel of Gytheio, son of Vetra.”

“This some official business? Neither isle sent word.” Astrophel can just make out Tiberius crossing his arms as he asks.

“No, Lord. We just have some questions.” Astrophel moves away from Iska though the ‘urga stays close at hand, even following him a few steps up the slope. Astrophel holds his hands palm out at his sides, “May we join you for dinner?”

Tiberius huffs, though whether it be a laugh or not, Astrophel has never quite been able to tell. “You pups are wet from your travels. May as well come get dry. Can’t send you back tonight anyway. T’would be a long trip to start in the dark.”

Astrophel catches up with Dione, putting a hand right above the waistband of the pants she borrowed. Behind them, Iska grumbles softly and snorts before the ‘urgas splash back into the water.

Up close, Tiberius is as imposing as ever. Barrel chested, his arms are thick rower’s arms with corded veins visible under his sun-beaten skin. Balding, he has a well maintained beard in full force; the bushy mustache hiding his mouth from view. The shirt he has on is a threadbare plaid of browns and blues. One shoulder is busting at the seams, but Astrophel refrains from commenting, knowing without a doubt the older man could squeeze his head until Astrophel’s eyes popped out. Tiberius waves them into his house before himself, the door banging shut behind him loud enough to cause Astrophel to whip around. Tiberius scowls, “Jumpy, eh pup? The storm won’t be too far behind us.”

“Storm?” Dionne asks.

“Ay. And don’t give me that look. You know it’s coming too.” Tiberius jabs a finger at the two of them and lumbers deeper into the longhouse. From what Astrophel can see, it’s constructed much like his own, albeit on a larger scale. “Sit.” Tiberius points at a table stretched along one side of the hall as he passes into the next room, his gruff voice gentling.

A squeal comes from the other room as Dionne and Astrophel find their seats and a scruffy child of five or six summers comes hurtling into the main room. Clothes just this side of too big, the little boy climbs onto the bench on the side of the table opposite Astrophel, throwing his little elbows on the table top, resting his head in his hands, face upturned as his wide eyes take in Astrophel and Dionne. “You’re tide-riders.”

“Yes,” Astrophel laughs, “we are. That’s how we got here.”

“You could’ve brought a ship. We have lots, don’t we dad?” The boy calls loud enough that his voice carries.

There’s a muted response before Tiberius comes back through the doorway, carrying bread and, Astrophel’s mouth waters, smoked fish. At his heels, a little girl no more than three shadows her father’s footsteps. Her eyes are curious and bright, though she rubs at them with her little fists, a blanket in one hand. When Tiberius has unloaded the food in front of Astrophel and Dionne, he scoops the little girl into his arms and sits down next to his boy.

“Dig in and tell us what’s brought you here.”

Astrophel takes a healthy slice of bread, piling the smoked fish on top and biting in, the bread fresh and soft with a crispy crust. Little pieces of nut and raisin and perhaps cinnamon mixed into it. The smoke from the fish settles along his tongue, filling his nose and he has to stop himself from groaning at how good it is. The dried, salty rations they had packed for the three day trip couldn’t hold a candle to fresh food. Dionne likewise digs in, her eyes fluttering shut as she enjoys the bite of food as well.

As Astrophel continues to eat, Dionne sets her food down and digs into the waterproof satchel for the journal. “We…” she clears her throat, at which point Tiberius offers her a pitcher which she takes with a nod of thanks, washing the food down. “We were hoping you knew more about the ‘people to the south’.” She flips to the right page, spinning the journal around and pointing for Tiberius.

His larger hands nearly dwarf the journal but he is gentle with it, peering at the handwritten script. His lips move as he reads over it and he flips back a few pages, almost looking for something.

“The Voice of the Sea called us home,” Tiberuis reads aloud, glancing at Astrophel before he continues, skimming over much of the page and turning to the next before he reads again. “The trade winds whipped our sails while the… enthralled’s kin screamed at our backs. Our time had come, the tides had gone, and like a herd of hydrurga, we chased the sky between the dawn and the point of their distant traveler’s star.” He skims more of that page and the next. “The islands… appeared to us once more like… a mist shrouded illusion. A dream. A forgotten hope.” Tiberuis stops, folding his hands over the open journal. “It sounds like our people were more relieved to find home again than to return to whatever it is they may have found.”

“So you agree there’s something out there?”

“There may have been something. Some… rocky island that they found. It doesn’t sound worth revisiting.” He closes the journal, pushing away from the table. “Your visit was for naught.”

“I disagree,” Dionne stands opposite him, leaning her hands on the table. “You could decipher more of the language than I could. You were able to confirm my suspicions.”

“Dio…” Astrophel rubs a hand over his face.

“It’s worth pursuing, Ast,” she turns on him. “Eulla’s Voice may have called our people home, but something sent them there in the first place.”

“It sounds far away.”

“Doesn’t that make it exciting? It’s like an adventure!”

Tiberuis gathers up his offspring, shooing them into the other room. Watching them go, he sighs, “I don’t believe it worth pursuing seeing as our people came back…”

“But…” Dionne protests.

“But I will support the decision of the Five should they decide to send an expedition out to find what substance the tale has.” He doesn’t meet their eyes. “I trust their judgment, and that their youth will bring new ideas to the table.” He glances up, nodding to Dionne and dipping his head to Astrophel. “Please be safe on your way home. Take what food you need. Rest. You needn’t head out immediately.”

Dionne sits on the table next to Astrophel’s plate, facing him.

“What is it?”

“We get to choose to pursue this.”

“The Five do. You heard Tiberius.”

“Ast, don’t be daft. We are the next Five. Everyone knows that.”

Astrophel folds his arms over his chest and considers Dionne. Her hair falls about her face, though tucked behind one ear, cascading over her shoulders like an untamed tumble of water. “We may be the next Five. That doesn’t mean everyone will leap at the opportunity of sailing far away to an unknown destination.”

“More may than you might expect.”

“What are you saying?”

“We love our Five. You know that. And there’s plenty of people who would like a change. Who would take the chance at new sights. New waters.”

Astrophel stands, leaning around Dionne to take up the pitcher, taking a long draw before setting it back down and taking in the food set before them, deciding what to pack. Dionne stops him with a hand on his bicep. Her eyes bore into his own.

“Just… consider it. You don’t have to agree right now.”

He lightly taps a finger under her chin, giving a soft smile, “I’ll think about it.”

“For now, you two should catch some sleep. Storm’s about to break.” Tiberius reappears in the room, arms bundled with blankets and furs.

Astrophel thumps a fist over his chest, “Thank you.”

“Thaesis would expect nothing less. Eulla has a temper, the way the wind is howling off the beach.”

Astrophel and Dionne stop to listen. Out past the break of the waves against the stones, there is a bassy gusting that draws closer, banging at the shutters over the windows as it passes. Astrophel shudders, tendrils of cold brushing over his cheek and down his neck. “We thank you all the same.”

Dionne takes the blankets, giving a small bow to Tiberius who returns the gesture and bids them goodnight, disappearing again into his family’s personal rooms. When they have the pelts arranged just so on the floor, Dionne kneels behind Astrophel, undoing his braids before they lay down facing one another. The silence is comfortable, but the longer they stare at one another, the more charged the air seems, until Dionne scoots closer, putting her head on Astrophel’s chest as his arm automatically wraps around her, holding her close. They each breathe deeply - not quite sighs of relief but ones of comfort. Dionne’s breath evens out quickly as the storm draws nearer, scratching at the roof of the long house as Astrophel stares up at the dark rafters. Sleep evades him as the room darkens and the shadows swallow their resting forms.

Finally he closes his eyes, imagining he can see the triple moons casting their light upon the dark waters. Though the storm grows around him, in his mind’s ear, the waves are calm, the wind blowing without shrieking. His consciousness feels floaty, his body heavy as it lies on the floor. Before panic can set in, a voice calls to him.

“Prince of the Sea, why do you run from the path laid out in front of you?” Her voice is resonant, fathoms deep, and still-water calm.

Why set me on this path? Why take me from my home? My friends and family? My place is here.

“Your place is far from here, Silver One. Your tomb will not be born of water, though I will cry for you.”

You’re sending me to my death?

“Not for many years.”

Why should I go?

“There is more to life for you. More to you than what would exist on the shores of your youth.”

Astrophel tries to cry out, to argue, but in this dream-like state, he cannot utter a sound, so he turns to his thoughts once more. You would abandon me?

“Far from it. You will have your friends. You will have family. You will learn much about yourself. About what is means to be First among the Five. About what it means to rule, to lead, to love.”

You will break me like a ship against rock in a high storm.

“Are you not strong enough to weather it? Tell me, and I will give it to someone else.”

Astrophel pauses. The water laps in his ears, the moonlight warm on his skin. He floats with a weighty gaze resting upon him.

“I will catch you.” It feels as though a finger taps on his forehead between his eyes and he is pushed back.

Astrophel wakes up. The room is dark, but the wind has died down. Dionne lays in his arms, her dark hair spooled across his shoulder where it mixes with his silver. His other arm comes to rest on hers, thrown across his torso. He lets his head thump back against the pelts under them, the sound muted in the quieting room. He sends one final thought out before he gives up to sleep: how will you catch me if I’m drowning?