Arlow gave me my backpack and teleported me to the coast. He left me trudging up the sand and disappeared back to wherever he came from without a word. It felt like only the click of a finger, but when I reached the surface, the sun was shining, dawn rising over the bay. I wondered if time was warped underwater. A whole day had passed since that petrifying storm, since Auralainei's message. The days were passing too fast, while some trudged on.
I looked towards the city, in subtle ways already different to the Northern Lands.
On either side of me were miles of white sand, white-capped waves and turquoise sea, certainly a change from the peripheral darkness, glittering crystal and night-black stone of Aquanaya's empire. I missed my home, on the other side of the sea. Kaleveh…would I ever see it again? The rolling hills of dust and grass, the temples and village feasts, the stories told around flickering campfires and the murky waters of the Tyrbery? Would I ever get to feel the warmth of my father's arms again?
I would. I had to. Perhaps I'd be the one to finally start a stronghold for the Gifted in the Northern Lands. Maybe one day, the South—Gidrkae, and the true North—Eidamaine—as well, would have places for them to go.
I was aware I looked horrible. I had lost weight on the days out at sea, there was salt crusted in the tangled bird's nest that was my hair, my clothes smelled and of course, I was a dark-skinned stranger who had just turned sixteen, here alone in Laverrene. I was aware I had a Northern accent and I was not used to their ways. I'd never thought about what I would do once I got here, perhaps find somewhere to sleep for the night and go directly to the Calbron Mountains through Orinm. But looking at the people milling about Laverrene, I decided my plan wouldn't do any good. Walk in looking like a shady traveller from Sereia and I'd soon be the talk of this little seaside town.
For the first time in a long time, I felt self-conscious. I knew they were useless thoughts, but doubt could wash over someone like a tsunami. And right now I was the sand being pulled under.
I needed to find an inn. At least a place to stay. To get food and get cleaned up.
Collecting my scattered self, I shouldered my pack and strode into Laverrene.
One of the first things I noticed was how the people stared. In Sereia, people had different ethnicities based on their tribe, but over time, intermarriage had ensured our people became mixed with different features that clashed so often it was funny. I myself had slender, upturned eyes from my mother's line that were the sapphire colour of Zarramere irises, a smattering of freckles across my slightly turned up nose that were barely discernible, and full, but not pouty lips. Glowing chocolate skin and sleek, a far cry from my mother's creamy white, even if we had the same coal-black hair that came just past my shoulders and curled at the ends. Long enough to tie up out of the way, but not quite enough to braid neatly. Sometimes I wished I had curly hair, but I knew that people with curly hair would wish for straight hair.
It's funny how that worked out sometimes. I'd always wanted to see the East. Yet I'd never thought it would be in this way, looking like I'd just walked out of the water and bedraggled with exhaustion that seeped into my bones.
Even if there were always people watching, even if I'd gotten used to people following me and my family everywhere we went in Kaleveh, I'd never had anyone stare at me so blatantly. And I soon discovered that for the supposed civility of the East, there was also unchecked crime. Just a few blocks away in a crowded market square I saw a young pickpocket snatch a lady's purse out of her bag. I was about to try and help when she turned around, grabbed him by the arm and slapped him across the cheek before taking her purse back. I didn't know if I should laugh or cringe. What if there were more of the types of men who had done unspeakable things to Mama so long ago? Who had left her with a broken soul and the beginnings of a baby she couldn't look after?
The streets of any place told a story. In Kaleveh, the wide cobbled roads always led back to home, scattered with the screeching of sea birds and hollering of street vendors. Their pages were wide open, dusty words inked onto the skin of those who traversed them. Laverrene was a different book, bound in stony cement and white sand.
I slipped into a deserted alley and squatted down. I needed to find shelter before dusk, but first things first. I was famished, and the saltwater was the opposite of invigorating. My legs were spiderwebbed with skin fissures and my lips felt like wrinkled peaches. Rummaging through my bag, I found a lone piece of flatbread and bit into it, savouring the flavours of home. I looked through my pack and I found the books, all dry and undamaged in any way, although Aquanaya appeared to have removed a deep red stain from the cover of a particularly gruesome book called Demons and Darkness: seventeenth century first edition. I put the books back in and fished around for the money until I found it hiding in a leather pouch in the bottom. A travel agency. Or a bank. That's what I needed to find; Northern money didn't work here.
Remembering the map to the fortress I had to find, I unzipped the hidden compartment and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still there, folded up neatly, undamaged. I couldn't find any maps of Laverrene in the bag, so I buckled up the pack very carefully and set off to find an information centre or somewhere that did have a map. I didn't need a map for that—I could see the large, rotating information sign on top of an old-looking building from a mile away. Ugh. I didn't need a map to see where it was, but a map would be helpful for avoiding the crowds. Wasn't Laverrene a small town? Why were there so many people?
My answer was practically written on the first blue-and-silver banner I saw fluttering from the windowsill of a small townhouse. Of course. Had it really been so long? It was January the 24th. Ocean Day. Ocean Day was a holiday that Aquanaya claimed had once been packed with temple sacrifices and prayers, offerings thrown in the ocean for her. Now, it consisted of what looked like a huge parade through the main street and lots of free ice-cream and ocean-themed sweets for the kids. We had a mix in Kaleveh. The banners were, as custom demanded, displayed proudly at every house, with a village feast and a ritual at the temple of the ocean. Narreta and Ricco and Maeven would be enjoying the celebrations. My heart ached to be with them. Protect. Until the end. Protect until our souls fade into dust on the northern wind. I wanted to protect them from the protector I was born. From that savage loyalty that would indeed hound me until the end.
Aquanaya had been ousted centuries ago, favour still not fully back, she said, but there was a holiday for all the Elementals, and so there was one for her. It wouldn't be fair otherwise—and it could give her free rein to destroy us all.
Shaking my head of the chilling tale she'd told me regarding her own past, I set off through the streets, squeezing past some very obviously drunk people (it was 3 in the afternoon! Jeez, people here!) some homeless guys squashed to the side by the crowd (personal space, anyone!?), and some ragtag gangs of kids (did their mothers not care about the dirt stains on their clothes?).
I couldn't blame myself. Obviously, society had its ups and downs, but was there such a clear societal hierarchy in the East? I'd heard about billionaires and world-changing entrepreneurs in Orinm, and I supposed towns like Laverrene were just left with the odd bunch. Even as I thought the thoughts, I felt pampered. I worked around the clock to ensure the content of my people. These people were different. Because nothing could ever give me a fraction of the pride I had to call Kaleveh my home.
A wave of unease washed over me. Everyone had their own roles in Kaleveh—I had known all my people, watched from the shadows as the traders shouted for their wares, as the people swept by in their tribal cloths, as the boats puttered to life every morning, as the sea waved goodbye to the sun as it slipped behind the hills. I watched from Mama's arms as my town came alive. Yet I would never know these Laverrenians.
Like me, all of them—all of them—had hopes, and dreams and ambitions. Unrequited loves and lost treasures. And I would never get to know the life of the girl who stared and stared at me across the road, something hard in her eyes. I would never know the story of the grime-streaked old man who slipped unnoticed into the alleyways. I would never know the tale of the lady who held her children close like she was afraid she would lose them. It was disconcerting—that out of all these people, no matter whose blood ran through my veins, I was just a speck in Kirasea's creation. To the world, I was nothing.