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jolantruAt first there was a slow subtle roar, as if it was coming from the distance. The roar soon gathered strength and I could feel the floor beneath my feet tremble. The winds seemed to have died down, only replaced by this sound. Then –
KERRACK! The hut I was in splintered apart and in came water. Torrents of dark water flowing ferociously towards me. I gasped and backed away, tearing at the wire binding my wrists together with my teeth.
Tsunami.
I could hear screaming this time. Women. Men. Children. As the dark water swirled about me and I tried to keep myself afloat, I saw women and men swept aside by the force of the dark water like twigs in a river.
My family.
I held onto something, bound as I was. The current was strong. The sea was furious. Just as I was. We were feeling Her wrath.
Suddenly the vise-like pressure around my wrists loosened and I breathed a sigh of relief. I flexed my hands, feeling the blood circulation return in painful spurts. The water rushed around my chest and I half-swam, half-fought, half-walked my way to the splintered opening.
I could only see a black wave, pushing debris inland. Some of my neighbors had managed to climb onto their roofs and were clinging onto anything stable desperately. They shouted something at me. Mirra. My family.
First Father’s body bobbed past. He looked unconscious but alive. His limbs twitched. I raised my sore right hand and the bright circles re-appeared, hardened by resolve. I willed him to safety and a green-white arc gently eased him onto drier and higher ground.
Two figures, wide-eyed and struggling: Mother and Grandmother. They gasped for air. They were expert swimmers but even then they could not withstand the wrath of the sea. Mother mouthed Mirra before slipping away, dragged along by the dark water.
I willed two more bright arcs, shifted my hands, and the arcs lifted my mother and grandmother clear out of the water. Their feet dangled in the air. I moved them to where First Father was. Mother immediately turned her attention to him. Grandmother collapsed.
Water filled my senses and I lifted my head so that I could breathe. I saw yet another body – a male – drift amongst the detritus flung up by the sea. Second Father.
My heart clenched. I hated him. He had brought this upon himself.
Second Father stirred and thrashed about as if he was drowning. He shouted for help. His eyes found me and grew wider.
He began to cry like a baby.
Silently, I lifted my hand and created a tight circle glistening with green and silver tones. Sea tones. I made it slide around Second Father who then clung onto it as thought it was a safety float for children. I willed it to carry him away from the dark water and it did, depositing him all crumpled next to my family.
The use of so much light drained me. My body felt consumed by some out-of-control fire, hollowed-out, and I grew dizzy, limp. I gurgled, water filling my vision and my lungs.
~*~
At first, it was light that pierced through the darkness as well as a soft voice speaking tenderly to me. Followed by Mirra, you have to wake up.
A groan. It was my own voice: weak, faded. Mirra. Mirra. Mirra.
My mouth tasted sea brine and something darker, earthier. I choked, coughed and sat up straight, retching out more seawater. My middle hurt. I hurt.
There was someone beside me, in brown robe and pearls entwined in her hair. She held a cool towel against my forehead, her hands graceful, mild.
“You gave us a fright,” she said, her voice a mellow contralto. She wiped my face and I could see that her hands were also scarred. Old scars, oyster scars, multiple scars marking her skin.
“I am also an oyster-diver. My village is not that faraway from yours.”
The pearls clicked as she dipped the towel into a bucket of clear water. I could see that the pearls were malformed, in odd shapes, stringed together in a beautiful necklace.
“You are the sea-witch,” I said. She did not look terrifying at all.
“Oh,” she smiled and her eyes twinkled merrily, “Is that what I am called now?”
I opened my mouth and closed it.
“Sometimes, it’s best,” she brought me a cup of hot seafood broth and I sipped it gratefully, warmth glowing in my middle, “to treat abuse and derision with humor.”
“My family,” reality sank in. The tsunami. My family. The village covered with the dark water.
“Everyone is safe,” the sea-witch’s voice was reassuring. “You did well saving them.”
The memory of me curling light rose unbidden and I became afraid.
“Why are you so fearful?” She glanced at me while she took away the cup and refilled it with hot bitter kelp tea.
Men’s magic, I wanted to say.
“You did well,” she repeated, her voice not unkindly. “There is no such thing as men’s magic or women’s magic. We all came from the same people, didn’t we?”
With that, she spoke to me about the mysteries and truths.
~*~
Looking For Her: A Journey
I am the daughter of oyster-divers and pearl-gatherers. I am the descendent of travelers from old Terra Firma, the ancient Earth the women of the village speak so proudly of. I am the daughter of a line of women who risk their lives to dive for the oysters, the rough-shelled bivalves that sustain us and give us beautiful pearls.
I am the daughter of the sea and a curler of light. I stand between two worlds, both real and rich. Within me, the peridot of the sea and light magic dance like helix strands. Mirra-Mirra-Mirra.
In my hands I hold the piercing oyster shells and they bite into my skin.
Through my hands I direct light and it fills my body, my soul like the golden sun.
With these two gifts within me, I travel, just as my ancestors had done so for many generations. My belongings are minimum, my clothing adequate and enough to protect me from the weather and travails of the journey. There is so much to learn ahead of me and my past is a story I would tell one day when I finally settle down, out of many pearls I have collected throughout my adolescence. I keep them like memories. They are memories. They keep me strong as I make my way to the City and strengthen my will as I pass by the ghost villages of hollowed ship hulls left behind after the first-wave and pick my way through the rows of empty huts leading to the main City gates.
There I know I will find her.
~*~
Part I: Daughter Of The Sea.
Part II: Mirra.
Part III: Wrath.
Note: This ends the prologue of Of Oysters, Pearls And Magic. If you like this story to continue, please comment/give feedback/say yes. ;)
KERRACK! The hut I was in splintered apart and in came water. Torrents of dark water flowing ferociously towards me. I gasped and backed away, tearing at the wire binding my wrists together with my teeth.
Tsunami.
I could hear screaming this time. Women. Men. Children. As the dark water swirled about me and I tried to keep myself afloat, I saw women and men swept aside by the force of the dark water like twigs in a river.
My family.
I held onto something, bound as I was. The current was strong. The sea was furious. Just as I was. We were feeling Her wrath.
Suddenly the vise-like pressure around my wrists loosened and I breathed a sigh of relief. I flexed my hands, feeling the blood circulation return in painful spurts. The water rushed around my chest and I half-swam, half-fought, half-walked my way to the splintered opening.
I could only see a black wave, pushing debris inland. Some of my neighbors had managed to climb onto their roofs and were clinging onto anything stable desperately. They shouted something at me. Mirra. My family.
First Father’s body bobbed past. He looked unconscious but alive. His limbs twitched. I raised my sore right hand and the bright circles re-appeared, hardened by resolve. I willed him to safety and a green-white arc gently eased him onto drier and higher ground.
Two figures, wide-eyed and struggling: Mother and Grandmother. They gasped for air. They were expert swimmers but even then they could not withstand the wrath of the sea. Mother mouthed Mirra before slipping away, dragged along by the dark water.
I willed two more bright arcs, shifted my hands, and the arcs lifted my mother and grandmother clear out of the water. Their feet dangled in the air. I moved them to where First Father was. Mother immediately turned her attention to him. Grandmother collapsed.
Water filled my senses and I lifted my head so that I could breathe. I saw yet another body – a male – drift amongst the detritus flung up by the sea. Second Father.
My heart clenched. I hated him. He had brought this upon himself.
Second Father stirred and thrashed about as if he was drowning. He shouted for help. His eyes found me and grew wider.
He began to cry like a baby.
Silently, I lifted my hand and created a tight circle glistening with green and silver tones. Sea tones. I made it slide around Second Father who then clung onto it as thought it was a safety float for children. I willed it to carry him away from the dark water and it did, depositing him all crumpled next to my family.
The use of so much light drained me. My body felt consumed by some out-of-control fire, hollowed-out, and I grew dizzy, limp. I gurgled, water filling my vision and my lungs.
~*~
At first, it was light that pierced through the darkness as well as a soft voice speaking tenderly to me. Followed by Mirra, you have to wake up.
A groan. It was my own voice: weak, faded. Mirra. Mirra. Mirra.
My mouth tasted sea brine and something darker, earthier. I choked, coughed and sat up straight, retching out more seawater. My middle hurt. I hurt.
There was someone beside me, in brown robe and pearls entwined in her hair. She held a cool towel against my forehead, her hands graceful, mild.
“You gave us a fright,” she said, her voice a mellow contralto. She wiped my face and I could see that her hands were also scarred. Old scars, oyster scars, multiple scars marking her skin.
“I am also an oyster-diver. My village is not that faraway from yours.”
The pearls clicked as she dipped the towel into a bucket of clear water. I could see that the pearls were malformed, in odd shapes, stringed together in a beautiful necklace.
“You are the sea-witch,” I said. She did not look terrifying at all.
“Oh,” she smiled and her eyes twinkled merrily, “Is that what I am called now?”
I opened my mouth and closed it.
“Sometimes, it’s best,” she brought me a cup of hot seafood broth and I sipped it gratefully, warmth glowing in my middle, “to treat abuse and derision with humor.”
“My family,” reality sank in. The tsunami. My family. The village covered with the dark water.
“Everyone is safe,” the sea-witch’s voice was reassuring. “You did well saving them.”
The memory of me curling light rose unbidden and I became afraid.
“Why are you so fearful?” She glanced at me while she took away the cup and refilled it with hot bitter kelp tea.
Men’s magic, I wanted to say.
“You did well,” she repeated, her voice not unkindly. “There is no such thing as men’s magic or women’s magic. We all came from the same people, didn’t we?”
With that, she spoke to me about the mysteries and truths.
~*~
Looking For Her: A Journey
I am the daughter of oyster-divers and pearl-gatherers. I am the descendent of travelers from old Terra Firma, the ancient Earth the women of the village speak so proudly of. I am the daughter of a line of women who risk their lives to dive for the oysters, the rough-shelled bivalves that sustain us and give us beautiful pearls.
I am the daughter of the sea and a curler of light. I stand between two worlds, both real and rich. Within me, the peridot of the sea and light magic dance like helix strands. Mirra-Mirra-Mirra.
In my hands I hold the piercing oyster shells and they bite into my skin.
Through my hands I direct light and it fills my body, my soul like the golden sun.
With these two gifts within me, I travel, just as my ancestors had done so for many generations. My belongings are minimum, my clothing adequate and enough to protect me from the weather and travails of the journey. There is so much to learn ahead of me and my past is a story I would tell one day when I finally settle down, out of many pearls I have collected throughout my adolescence. I keep them like memories. They are memories. They keep me strong as I make my way to the City and strengthen my will as I pass by the ghost villages of hollowed ship hulls left behind after the first-wave and pick my way through the rows of empty huts leading to the main City gates.
There I know I will find her.
~*~
Part I: Daughter Of The Sea.
Part II: Mirra.
Part III: Wrath.
Note: This ends the prologue of Of Oysters, Pearls And Magic. If you like this story to continue, please comment/give feedback/say yes. ;)
