Naomi sat at the edge of the river, rinsing her laundry and wringing it out with care. She was near the mouth of the river, in view of the sea, one of her favorite places to sit and ponder the world around her. Not far from the settlement, but enough to give her a little peace.
The mundane chore allowed her mind freedom to wander. A cool, gentle breeze pushed the tendrils of loose hair back from her face, the dark curls catching and tangling on one another. It was quite a lovely day, with the sun shining unimpeded on the sea.
She closed her eyes and turned her face towards it, soaking in the light and warmth for a moment with a sad smile. She recalled Finn's last visit with the triplets. Naomi missed them dearly, particularly Lily.
The girl seemed born for the sea. She wasn't content until her toes touched the water, and was euphoric on their mornings swimming together. It was a beautiful time of laughter and happiness to have them come to see Ceto.
Naomi had asked Finn about going ten years without having any more children. The woman, her cousin-by-marriage, had been open about occasionally wondering if more children were not meant to be, and being saddened by it.
Overriding that feeling, on the whole, was the fact that she had three beautiful, unique children, and had almost died in childbirth before. Going through that ordeal again, especially now that there were no magical healing herbs in the world anymore, was not an idea that sat well with her.
Naomi understood, at least partly. Her ten years of marriage had not seen her blessed with any children whatsoever, despite her longing. Finn had been kind, and encouraging, sharing a little of Mrs. Sherman's struggles and thoughts on the topic.
The Rhone-turned-Cetoan woman had known Mrs. Sherman adopted both Roland and, later Victoria, in some fashion, but had not initially thought deeply about it.
Now, years of trying later, she wanted to find a time to broach the idea of adoption with Caspian. It wasn't that she had given up having children, but her heart longed for little ones to raise. If there were children out there longing for a mother and father, perhaps…
She sighed and wrung out a pair of breeches, playing with different ways of phrasing the idea. Surely Caspian wouldn't be opposed to it, would he?
Even after all this time, she occasionally had trouble working up the courage to bring something up to him. Especially something serious. Why couldn't she be bolder, braver? Her husband loved her. Deeply. He wouldn't get angry over this, she just knew it.
So why couldn't she ask?
She sniffed as a tear slid down her cheek. Because asking felt like admitting that she was defective, and couldn't give him children of their own. Another tear joined the first. It wasn't true, not really.
At least, not in any way that could be proven. The doctors had no particular advice to offer. The couple's infertility was a mystery to them.
The sunlight shifted slightly, and Naomi glanced up. There hadn't been clouds a moment ago, where had they come from?
She blinked. There still were no clouds.
Perhaps a bird's shadow had briefly fallen on her. The seagulls were out today, and loud at that. Manic, even. She was glad she hadn't brought any food with her. The poaching avians were always apt to steal anything remotely edible.
Looking up at the sky once more, she squinted. Something faint, and high in the sky… Her eyes widened. She'd been through portals by the sea twice in her life: once into Pink Sky World, and once back.
Though she hadn't gotten a great look either time, she couldn't deny that the gut feeling she had was the same. The orb of light was high in the sky, like a large star with a strange, nebulous center. Different than a jet-black portal to the Darkness, but just as ominous.
Naomi stood to her feet, as if that small change in distance would allow her a better view. It warped as she stared, and she lifted a hand to shade her face from the sun as she continued watching.
Suddenly it seemed to spit out some small, bright thing that began falling to earth. By increments, it grew larger as the woman watched, frozen in horror. A memory pricked at the back of her mind.
The tale of the end of the War between Klain and Rhone. The piece of mountain that fell into the lake and drowned the Cetoan women in a wave.
The bright stone falling from the sky burned, like a giant fiery stone headed out to sea. Naomi ran.
Away from the water, towards the settlement. Depending on how far out the thing landed, she might have a short time before the wave it created hit.
"RUN! AWAY FROM THE SEA!" She screamed ahead. A flash and a sound like a great boom reverberated across the land.
Others, thankfully, had seen it, and frantic evacuation had begun before she arrived. She searched desperately for her husband. She spotted him directing the efforts, and sprinted towards him.
He currently stood in profile to her, and the perfection of his face was undeniable. The last ten years had only served to make him gain in confidence and maturity, and the kindness and humility of his bearing was magnetic.
He turned as he saw her, revealing the other half of his face. An eyepatch hid the worst of the scarring, but the gravity of the injuries he had once suffered were apparent even still.
"CASPIAN!" She called, and he ran towards her, pulling her into his embrace.
"Run, my love. I will catch up. Get away from the sea, as far as you can. Up to the highest ground possible." He said, kissing her briefly and pushing her away. "GO!"
She had little choice but to obey. Time was short, and arguing would only prolong both their presence.
It was one of many occasions where she was grateful for the standard dress of Cetoan women. The shorter, lighter clothing lent itself to running much more easily than what she had grown up with. In her mind's eye, she mapped out her route ahead, trying to think of the highest point. There was a cliff a short distance away. If she could climb the path quickly enough to make it to the top, it might provide enough height to get out of the worst of the danger.
It seemed everyone had the same idea, scrambling, crawling, and running up the hillside to the highest points they could manage, each hoping it would be sufficient.
As she neared the midpoint of the cliff face, sweating and panting, a hand at her back made her breathe a little easier. Caspian, as promised, had made his way to her. How long had it been? Minutes, at least.
She turned, and realized she must have come much further than she'd thought. The waterline was a long distance away now.
"We must keep going," Caspian warned.
"But the sea is so far!" She protested, out of breath. Cora, her mother-in-law, had come with Caspian.
"That is a bad sign," The older woman said. "The further out the water is pulled, the larger the wave that will come."
Naomi swallowed her fear and turned to scramble higher. Caspian helped both her and his mother climb the steep pathway, along with the rest of the settlement's inhabitants. A sound like a distant roar grew steadily louder.
The people didn't dare look back, choosing instead to focus on escaping the disaster. Fear was the enemy if it froze them. Instead, they used it as fuel to keep them moving. By the time the top of the cliff face was in reach, the roar was all-consuming.
The two women fell into an exhausted heap while Caspian continued to offer hands to the rest of the people climbing up behind them. Naomi's eyes nearly jumped out of her head as she took in the sight below.
The settlement was hardly visible. The rushing water was destroying everything in its path and breaking against the cliff in an alarming, ever-rising assault.
"Will we be safe?" She whispered to Cora.
"We will not know until the water begins to recede." Cora replied. "But, we can begin walking as soon as we are able."
"Walking? To where?"
"To Klain. The treaty guarantees us refuge there. Nothing will be left below. There is nothing to salvage. The ships at sea, and the people on them, are certainly drowned. Perhaps some of the outlying settlements will not be hit so hard, but on the whole… I think our people have become homeless." Cora spoke quietly, but the ache in her voice was heart-wrenchingly logical.
Naomi looked below, tears flowing freely now. Their way of life, in such a short moment, was all but destroyed.
"We can rebuild, in time," She encouraged her mother in law, taking the woman's hand.
"Perhaps." The elder conceded. "But before that, we need to know that nothing more will fall from the sky and destroy us all."