Blood of the Sea, Chapter Two

Present day, Magellani Islands

Chapter 2: Scion

Astrophel

The churn of the ocean tugging at the rocky skirt of Gytheio pulls Astrophel from the depths of sleep with the slow sparking recognition of being awake. The sound of the water – hissing, reassuring, familiar - eases the process until he is awake enough to squint against the rays of sunlight battering against his eyelids with the ferocity of oars being plunged into the surf during a race.

Sitting up, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and folds back the seal skin blanket, the material worn soft and well creased after all these years. Throwing on a pair of linen breeches, he sets about taming his silver hair, the strands falling past his face and ending just short of the tops of his arms. Shouldering open the door to his longhouse, the sunlight plasters itself upon the planes of his skin, warming him as the cry of sea birds rings in his ears. His mother wouldn’t be expecting him until later, but his sire was sure to be around, helping with the breaking of the night’s fast.

His feet carry him down the dirt paths which wind their way lazily through the wind whipped shrub grass. The blades of grass slice at Astrophel’s ankles with a particular vengeance as the wind pushes him onward; the gale cresting over the island before it meets the sea once more. The door to the communal longhouse is harder to open in the face of the wind, but with one of his tribemates, they’re able to wrestle it open, letting a burst of wind into the space, as well as their shared laughter. Voices rise to greet him, the sound nearly bursting from the seams inside the space. The scent of fried fish and fresh baked goods draws a growl from his stomach and he offers those closest to him an apologetic smile as he makes for the food spread across the central table. Grabbing a plate, he scoops up a fillet of the fish and a couple rolls which already have warmed jam starting to drip from the cuts.

“May the day rise to greet you, son.” A hearty clap on his shoulder has Astrophel smiling more broadly, and he turns to embrace his sire, Nasir.

“And the sea guide you, father. Everything smells great.”

“This? Dawn’s catch was a little fuller than it has been. Made some of the E’len frisky, so I made sure they had something to do.” Nasir pulls back from the hug, giving Astrophel one of those looks.

Astrophel shrugs it off, though his heart sings in his chest. “A fuller catch at dawn doesn’t always mean the fish are fleeing before the herd. The hydrurga have a full moon cycle to show before the tribes really get nervous.”

“But the shoal-”

“Will happen when it happens. After the seiche.” Astrophel takes a bite out of one of the rolls, his mouth flooding with saliva. The hot bread is a comfort which seeps into him from the inside out as the flavor of the jam bursts across his tongue. He swallows and allows himself the moment to study his father. A sturdy fighter, his skin has been marked more by the salt and sun of their islands, and the nip of a rope being pulled too tight, than the scarring of battle; his eyes are creasing at the corners, his dark hair slowly streaking through with grey, but his hands remain steady. Those same hands taught him how to hold a sword. This same quiet, confident man showed him what it meant to deal in both compassion and courage.

“You should have faith in what is coming.”

“In the end, the Goddess decides,” Astrophel says; his voice low but firm.

“The tribes will have their say as well. You have swum with the E’len for three seasons. They know you, your talents as a warrior and a sailor. As a leader.”

“Eulla has the final say. Even our gods Thaseis and Phyrlin leave this matter to Her.”

“She gives, and She takes away.” Nasir’s gaze grows distant for a moment, his hands squeezing Astrophel’s shoulders. “Your mother should be the one to speak to you of magic.”

“She has. She will. But, I wanted to ask about your family’s lineage.”

“Water calling doesn’t come to us,” Nasir frowns, “but your mother’s family has powerful dreams and visions. My blood tends is more like finding a shark’s tooth in the fishing net. My brother, before he died, could wield storms. He was restless though. Sort of jumped around in his free time. Like he’d been lightning-struck one too many times, and it had made its way inside.” Nasir rakes a hand through his salt sprinkled, dark hair. “We’re the wild sort, and the magic has a mind of its own.”

“Mother said as much,” Astrophel nods.

Nasir glances about them, the commotion in the room rising and falling with the pattern of different conversations happening all about them. He steers Astrophel towards the back of the hall, seating the two of them on a bench set off to the side. “When you were born, Eulla’s Voice spoke of you being born of stardust. Your mother took it in stride, but for all the water in my blood, I cannot make sense of it.”

“Stardust,” Astrophel repeats.

Nasir gestures toward Astrophel’s silver hair – so different from his own dark locs. “You have her hair.” A soft smile crosses his features like a fish darting just below the surface of the water. “I can only imagine you channel more of the family’s blood. From both sides. You are magic touched.”

“Eulla will decide whether I am worthy of bearing it.”

Nasir does smile now; the sort of smile which is one part assurance and one part pride. “She already has. You must simply meet Her in the middle. One cannot steer the ship of fate without water beneath the keel.”