The Sea Witch

Notice: This is the longest fantasy short story I have written, and it most certainly will not be the last. I’ve gone over it a few times and would love to receive feedback on it as I just can’t spot all my errors by myself! This piece will gradually make up a small part of a much larger story, so I hope you read it and enjoy it. =)

Comments and critiques are welcomed and encouraged. Please let me know what you liked, what you didn’t, what made you confused, and what made you smile! =D

I use some self-made terms in this story and have included a reference at the bottom of the text. Thank you, and enjoy. -Smiles-

Part I

The first feeling that coursed through my mind as my body began to feel again was how intense the pain was. It was if I were laying atop shredded glass within the bowels of a brick oven, slowly roasting within a vat of my own sweat. I coughed up a storm as I became conscious, puffing powdery white sand all over my scared, bulldog face. The granules clung to my facial hair and I could feel them as they shot up inside my nose.

I wasn’t in a very comfortable position, to say the least.

As I rolled over on my right side in an attempt to gather my bearings, I could feel the excruciating pain inside my muscles, my tendons stretching like weak bands of rubber. Fatigue set in with this unbearable retaliation. I could hardly stand it as I coughed again with the taste of putrid sea water coating the inside of my mouth. My god, I have never felt so helpless in all my years - what happened to me? Nauseated, I succumbed and rolled onto my back, my eyes staring straight up into the pale-blue sky. I could see a band of white clouds gently rolling by in the company of these winged sea rats screeching in their own melodic symphony, and the ocean - I could hear the ocean - that ever familiar sound of waves breaking against the shoreline.

The seconds slowly rolled into minutes as I laid in agony, my body exposed to the sun’s fiery embrace. I needed to get out of the heat. I needed some shade, otherwise I would be cooked like an egg atop an iron skillet. I tilted my head up only to be greeted by the sun’s volatile radiance. I brought my right hand up from the sand to shade my face as I rolled over, putting all my weight on my left side, carefully standing up.

That is when I realized just how bad my condition was. I drew my fingers down from my shirt’s collar, feeling the cloth and taking notice that they were torn at the seams; the delicate fabric absolutely shredded. Below the white cloth that weakly protected my body I could see my open chest dotted with jagged lacerations. I gently flicked back the solid pieces of the shirt, noticing my blood coagulating with the sand that stuck against my open flesh. It appeared that the cuts were still fresh.

Delicate dunes of white sand extended all around me, and soaked within it was the faint dye of crimson blood. My eyes trailed the soft pigment as it skated throughout the sand and down in to the open sea. Accompanying the line was a soft vale dug in to the sand. I could not have made such an indentation by just being flopped down on high ground, could I? Someone must have seen me bobbing within the current and decided to bring me up here on shore, but where would they have gone? Maybe I did manage to flow up here - maybe I was conscious - and through the thickness of delirium I stumbled my way on to this forgotten shore and collapsed in to a heap of garroted cloth and flesh.

I cupped my right hand over my forehead and wiped away the trickling beads of sweat. Well, at least that’s a good sign, I thought to myself. I would be in a rather dire situation if I weren’t sweating, although that is not to say that being stranded on this crescent piece of land isn’t already dreadful. I’m not dehydrated, and that’s good enough to make me feel the least bit confident that I’ll live, if only for a day.

I turned my back to point my head behind me to examine the land, and sure enough it was there - the luscious mess of the tropics. Beautiful palms, cycads and flowers filled the expanse, encasing it within a lush color of green, red, and yellow.

I stumbled my way towards the jungle’s edge, placing myself underneath the cool shade of the fronds. I pivoted my spine up against the soft bark of a majesty palm, the shade covered my torn body with dark blotches. The sun’s hot light rebounded off the glaring sand and brightened up the whole coastline. I chuckled to myself, “Welcome to paradise.”

I coughed up blood.

I sighed with malcontent. I‘m not going to last; I’ll be gone in a matter of hours if I’m bleeding on the inside. I reached down and grabbed my shirt, ripped it in two, and lightly brushed the sand off of my open wounds, which I soon realized wasn’t an entirely good decision. They became aggravated and blood began to slowly seep out of the cuts. I coughed again, and with the ripped cloth in my hands I crafted a rather crude noose. I wrapped the damp makeshift bandage around my chest to provide soft pressure for the cuts to help hasten the blood’s thickening. I sighed as I leaned back against the palm in an attempt to relax. If these would be my final moments I would like them to go by peacefully.

I allowed my eyes to drift aimlessly around the shoreline to take in the view. The whole area was in the shape of a crescent moon, and I was perfectly situated in the center. To my left was an uprising of granite rock crashing in to the sea, and to my right beyond the waters laid a series of mountains reaching up in to the heavens. I decided that I was looking at the Meo’Dra mountain range, right off the coast of the Le’Cira continent. If I were right, then I would be among the Ea’roac island chain off the continent’s coastline. If this were the case, then I did not travel far from the naval port capital, Tallian.

Then it hit me - the galley.

Where the hell was my galley? I looked over the ocean and to my grim displeasure, saw nothing but the waves flapping against the surface. There were no signs of the ship, or even a wreckage; there was no splintered mast, no planks of wood washed ashore or cords of rope, no tattered drapes of the sails splayed across the water. Nothing.

Well, I’m certainly in a rough predicament. I only have a slight idea of where I’m at, I have no idea how I managed to land here, I’ve lost the galley I smuggled out of the port for that bastard Achenvee, and now I’m stranded on some island with nothing - nothing but my slowly rotting body.

I chuckled softly, the humor of the situation setting in as if things couldn’t get any worse.

I decided it best to just shut my eyes and beckon the mistress of obscurity to take me away; Kriva, I’m all yours, sweetheart.

She spat me out with a sharp pain gouging out from the inside of my chest cavity. I let a few moments pass as I let out hacking coughs, and slowly closed my eyes again. She gradually came to her conclusion to grant me solace and opened her gateway to slumber. “Thank ye’, ma’am.”

She wasn’t so bad after all, I thought.

I must have been asleep no more than a few hours at the very least. The sun had dipped behind me beyond the palms and cycads, the soft hue of dusk covered the tropics and the insects decided to begin their serenade for me, and there was something else I could hear - no, I could feel it, a low vibration was emanating through the ground.

I stretched my hands upward and quickly resigned them to the side of my body as I remembered my lacerations, not hoping to aggravate them. I wondered if they healed, but I thought better of it and left the cloth shirt sit around my chest; I didn’t want to take a chance. I contemplated what I could do as I sat there below the palm, twiddling my thumbs. I couldn’t just sit here, I had to do something. I had to get up off this sand. Who knows what kind of creepy crawlies come out at night. Hah, the bastards would have a field day with me as the grandeur smorgasbord.

Oh, what the hell. I have nothing to lose.

I lifted the noose with such tender care as to not aggravate the wounds, and exposed my chest, the blood finally sealed at the openings. That’s good. I decided to take a gamble - I needed a way to test the tautness of the coagulated cuts. I lifted my hands up and stretched them back, my attention directed on to my chest. My chest seemed fine, at least for me to gather some pieces of wood to grant me some proportioned height off the sandy floor.

I picked myself off the sand and used the base of the soft palm as a leverage of support for my weight. My legs wobbled as I gradually made my way down on to the beach. It was still fairly light out, the returning rays from the sun encased the tropical island in a soft golden hue mixed with indigo, a foreshadow of the pending night. I ran my eyes across the foliage, searching for fallen debris. I soon realized that this wasn’t going to be an easy endeavor.

In the distance off to the south I noticed a curl of smoke billowing atop the jungle’s canopy. I could begin to feel the vibrations return, the thrumming in my chest building with stronger vitality. It piqued my interest, perhaps there were others here. The thought flowed in to my mind; maybe I could scavenge something if that were the case, or better yet, I could be provided a place of rest - hah, yea, the latter concept would be too good to be true. I wobbled my way back in to the foliage and cautiously trekked my way throughout the tangled jungle floor. I paid close attention to my footing as I twisted and turned throughout the maze of thick vines and undergrowth.

The scent of spices mixed with a tinge of wood filled the air around me. Through the tangled mess of looming vines I could make out the rough edge of a tribal ground. A series of crude hunting and musical instruments were standing along the sandy floor, propped up against a rudimentary wall of bamboo. Light shadows faded in and out in rhythm to the sound of a didgeridoo - the source of the vibrations. The low voices of young men and women were barely audible over the wind instrument. It sounded as if they were chanting a form of a hymn.

I ducked my head down and lowered my body to the floor, my mind focused on this newfound discovery. The chanting of the young faded away and in their place came the sound of an elderly man, his voice scuffed and hard-toned. I could barely make out his slow, rickety words; “Hai-oou, See-ven, do ahn’ku verli-oom. See-ven, Hai-oou, do ahn’ku verli-oom.”

I didn’t know what he was saying - but I recognized the language; he was speaking Ea’roac.

I slid behind an overgrown palm that rested on its side, my body twisted around so I could see them perfectly; there had to be no more than at least twenty dark-skinned natives, and all of them were sitting in a circular arrangement around the base of an altar constructed out of limestone. The altar stood only a few feet above the sand, and was covered in organic murals depicting and complimenting the local flora.

The elderly man stood upon the altar, his eyes drawing over the juveniles that sat below him with their knees tucked firmly underneath their bodies and their hands outstretched as if to receive, or give, an offering. I laid down in a prone position, my head hovering a few inches over an elevated palm root to gain a better view at the ceremony acted out before me.

This elder had definitely seen finer days. His skin resembled the side of a jagged rock cut in half, his face was outlined with heavy-set wrinkles and white paint markings. His outfit was rather delicate in appearance, made out of dead fronds and tied together with chopped stringed weed. His shoulders were encased with hallowed out bamboo and extending from the corners were long, elegant feathers. His chest was bare, except for a few lines of soft white paint drawing down towards his waist. In the middle of his chest laid a jagged, pallid scar. He paced around the outer edge of the altar, his hands thrown in to the air as he chanted his lyrics. The sound of the didgeridoo grew louder and more intense, the vibrations from the instrument flowing through the ground - I could feel the low rumble reverberate off my body.

Then I felt something, something hard - like the butt of a stick - hitting my right shoulder. My I twisted my head around, and to my horrified expression one of the natives was standing there - the large body of a man with similar markings of the elder.

He stood there with an inquisitive expression on his face, which was quite perplexing for me. He kneeled down on to his knees in front of me, his dark hand extended over my chest and, gently, he tapped the cloth shirt that was straddled around my torso. He made a huffing noise, lifted himself up and directed his attention over me. He didn’t appear to be surprised, angered, or even remotely hostile towards my appearance.

“D’uvo, D’uvo! Ev’ene ke’el, okmei! Okmei!” The young native bellowed, his right hand thrown in to the air in a waving gesture. He was calling for the attention of his people, obviously sharing the news of his finding. I could hear the sound of the didgeridoo fade into silence and replaced with the pounding of footsteps marching along the tropical floor, the sound growing louder and louder every second.

A moment later I was surrounded by a few of the natives - the most strongest, it seemed, their muscles pulsating with unbridled strength - I wouldn’t want to aggravate these guys. I sat with my back against the looming palm, and to my left the elder who was chanting stepped over to greet me. He looked over to one of his younger members, and gave him a firm nod. The young man moved and the elder took his place in front of me. He tilted his head up and spoke, “Uk’vai, Ea’roac?”

I stared at him, not quite sure what he asked me, “I-I can’t speak, nor can I understand, what it is you are saying.” I said, in a slow, steady tone.

The elder threw his head back and let out a rather boisterous chuckle, and as if they were waiting on queue, the others chimed in with their own laughter. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the situation. The elder turned his head to look at me and smiled with his crooked teeth peeking through his lips. “I didn’ tink so, young Paka. Where you from, what you doin’ here?”

I looked at him and asked, “Paka?” He stood back, lifting his carved organic walking stick and poked me in my shoulder, “You Paka.” In between each word, he jabbed the stick in to my shoulder - just enough to push the concept in to me, “You, be, Paka.” He set the stick down in to the tangled dirt below.

I looked up at him, that smile still spread across his face. “I, I have no idea where I’m at - I just, kind of, tumbled out of the sea.” I said, pointing down the way I came. His eyes were fixated upon me. “I was aboard a ship, and I must have blacked out and run aground, as the next moment I knew - well, I was on your beach.”

He tilted his head and his smile faded, an unsympathetic frown streaked across his visage. “You only here because she let you here, Paka. She brought you here and let you live,” he said as his frown started to turn upside down, “but dun’ worry, we take good care of ye’ here for now, Paka.”

He slowly shifted his feet towards me as he spoke, his hands outstretched over my body. I was about to speak, to ask him what he meant, but he hushed me before I could get a word out - and not wanting to disrupt whatever it was that he was doing, I resigned. His black, wrinkled hand glided inches over my chest, and then pulled back. “You got bit by the colored rocks, eh? You lucky you still whole, Paka.”

He turned his head over to a young man and barked an order for him, “Ge’van, do’vaka nee!” The man nodded in compliance and trotted his way towards me, outstretching his hand to me. This was a bit awkward, I thought, but I reached out and he gripped my hand, hoisting me up on to my feet. The elder looked at me; he was incredibly short. He beckoned me to follow him as he began to journey towards the altar. The limestone structure was quite large up front, and the murals were exquisitely carved and colored with bright hues. There was an elevated ramp leading from the top of the altar to the bottom, and on each side were braziers alight with flickering flames.

All around me the tribe’s home began to open up - and before I knew it I was flanked on either side by elevated huts on thick stilts, built and carved out of the natural tropical bush. In front of these huts was a form of an instrument - most prominent was the didgeridoo. I wonder what fascinated these people about such an instrument. Ahead of me I saw an open area with heavily polished stones dotting the land, forming a circle around a glowing bonfire. In the center were a few women, each of them possessing a didgeridoo.

To my right, a young boy ran out of a hut with a rolled up bed of bamboo. He hastily laid the bed out along the gentle sand and made his way back in to the hut in which he came. The elder motioned for me to sit, and not wanting to disrespect such hospitality, I obliged.

Two women came over from the bonfire and approached me, smiling. They kneeled down next to me with their hands stretching out to grab the noose that covered me. I looked over at the elder man and he met me with a firm nod. The next moment, my bare chest was naked against the sea breeze - my shattered shirt flopping in a heap next to me. My chest was a mess of gashes, lacerations, cuts, and bruises.

The woman on my right smiled, and gently ushered me to lay down on the bamboo mat with mundane hand gestures. I wasn’t quite sure what they were going to do, but I imagined it had to deal with my injury - needless to say, I did what she motioned, and laid down on my back, my head staring up in to the darkening sky. I could see the elder man walking over with a small pipe within his hands, accompanied by a new woman holding a mud clay bowl. I began to lift myself up as she was delivering the bowl, and was met with a firm hand against the base of my throat. I laid back down, and the woman gently poured the water in to my open mouth.

It smelled as offensive as it had tasted.

I almost spat the vile concoction out. It took all my strength to swallow the first gulp - and then she came back in to deliver me another sip. The elder man chuckled, “It taste bad, but it good for you. Drink, drink - we make you better, Paka.”

I took one final sip before I waved my hand dismissively, “No more, please.”

The woman holding the clay bowl wrinkled her nose at me as she walked away, the comical value obviously apparent with the old man as I found him sitting off to the side, chuckling in amusement. “Don’ be so stubborn, Paka!” He said in between his laughter. The vibrating sound of a didgeridoo interrupted, and he quickly shooed the two women beside me away. “Paka! You must feel to believe, ya?!” He said, walking his way over to me, “We’ll make you whole again. Usa’veinda cova, cova!”

The woman behind the wind instrument stopped playing as she carried herself on over to the bamboo mat where I laid. She peered over me, smiled (with crooked teeth), and placed the instrument inches away from my body. Startled, I began to move - but the elder snapped at me, “Stay!”

I held my ground and began to feel the thrumming of the instrument, the vibrations softly emanating from the hollowed center. The woman gently drew the instrument around my body in a circular motion, as if to distribute the noise evenly. This went on for what seemed like an eternity, and the longer it went the more relaxed and open I became - it was as if I were thrown in to a sensational reverie, and the next thing I knew sleep gained ruling control over my body.

Part II

“Wake up, Paka!” The old man said, stirring from my slumber. I wiped the crust that had formed around my eyes. I was inside a spacious abode, albeit a quite simple one. The walls appeared to be nothing more than a thin curtain of dried out fronds and the floor was organic green bamboo - apparently a lot of these structures are made out of bamboo. I struggled my way out of the hammock, which came to be a surprise for me - I was expecting a bamboo bed with dried out palm fronds. My shirt was gone, and to my utter surprise so were the markings of yesterday’s disturbance. The old man had done his magic.

I hoped out of the hammock with my hands gliding over my fair chest, marveling at the clean surface. I walked over to the old man who was standing at the front of the room inside the doorway with a smirk painted on his face. I smiled, “What pleasure do I owe you for such hospitality, shaman?”

The old man chuckled as he rattled his walking stick along the floor. “You owe me nothing, Paka. You owe it to her. She is the one who has given you our hospitality, not us! We would ave’ gutted you and fed ye’ to the sharks if it weren’t for her.”

I stood there, dumbfounded. I folded my arms up to my chest, and asked him who this woman was. He merely smiled at me and walked out of the hut in to the morning air, gesturing for me to follow. “I show you, boy. I show you. Oh, and you said you had a ship, yes? Well, me youngin’ found a ship, but I dun’ think you be happy when you see it.”

I inquired, asking him what he had found. He mentioned the rocks along the southern end of the island, opposite of the Le’cira continent. His youngest son was out scouting earlier in the day and just happened to stumble upon the wrecked galley - which was gutted and torn into several pieces. Very little was salvageable from atop the waters, he said. The ship, essentially, had split in to three parts and sunk. I shrugged; at least it wasn’t my ship.

I noticed as we walked along a shady trail of sand in to the jungle that we were ascending. The old man pushed the looming vines overhead out of his way, smacking them in to me. I wondered where he was leading to, and then I saw it - the jungle cleared, and displayed before me was a massive lagoon with us standing atop a cliff hundreds of feet in the air. He kneeled down on the rock’s outcropping and motioned for me to do the same.

The view was absolutely breathtaking, but the old man didn’t take me here to experience the scenery. He pointed with his wooden walking stick across the lagoon. There was a large black vessel with golden laced trimmings gently nestled along the coastline. My jaw dropped, it couldn’t be. I recognized the vessel; it was a ship for royalty, grand ships constructed to serve only the finest of monarchies within this world - and it was here? Out in the Ea’roac island chain? I looked over at the elder, and I could see that his eyes were fixed upon the dark object looming above the water.

“Watch, young man, for this could have been you.” He said, displaying a radical change in his tone and demeanor. I reverted my eyes back on to the ship, squinting to gain a better vantage. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, and then I saw what I would have never believed possible. I could see them, their dark figures darted underneath the crystal waves like spears heading towards the elegant ship. They were filled with haste, their movements quick and mobile - the attack was swift and deadly, it took me several seconds to even comprehend what had just happened before my eyes; my heart pounded within my chest from shock and amazement.

The first humanoid exploded out of the water at the stern of the vessel, its silvery-blue body shimmering in the morning sun as it landed on the ship’s deck. Another followed suit, and another, and the overwhelming surge began - the ship was covered with them, there had to be hundreds of these creatures! I couldn’t draw my eyes away from the brutality; they were fighting unarmed crew members, flinging both men and women overboard in to the water and killing those who dared to stand in their way with unseen blades.

A rumble came from the open sea beyond the lagoon, and beneath the waves a massive beast moved swiftly and silently through the waters with determined vigor. The gigantic creature extended a massive tentacle out of the waters and slammed it along the port side of the vessel, the wood cracking underneath the concentrated pressure. Another massive tentacle was thrown high in to the sky, its overwhelming power loomed above the ship - and the screams of those aboard spread through the air and rebounded off the cragged cliffs. The tentacle slammed on to the starboard side of the ship, and one final tentacle lifted in to the sky - the humanoids atop the deck jumped off in to the blue waters with ship and crew paraphernalia in their arms. The final blow landed as the leviathan’s arm came to a sundering crash, the ship buckled and collapsed into the waters.

All this within a matter of twenty eight seconds. My eyes locked on to the splintered pieces of wood that bucked underneath the massive wake left by the ship’s plummet. The humans bobbed up and down among the waves and, one by one, they were sucked underneath in to the dark blue waters. The black shape of the leviathan quickly dissipated as it headed its way back in to the open seas, and the humanoids - with their silvery sheen - darted through the waters in pursuit.

I couldn’t believe what had taken place, nor could I rip my eyes away from the lagoon that, not but a minute ago, housed one of the finest pieces of human craftsmanship this side of the world. I turned my head to look at the old man, whose eyes were looking straight at me. We both didn’t say a word, and he simple picked himself up with the support of his cane and walked down the rock.

We were a ways down the path before I decided to open my mouth to speak. “So, if I may ask, what was that all about?” The old man simply said nothing. The more I replayed the events that just happened in my mind, the more I began to recollect about what had happened to me the other night. Could I have been struck like that, and instead of my body being sucked in to the waters, crashed on to the island? I brought the issue up with the old man, and he simply scoffed me, claiming the difference in that I am alive and they’re dead - all because they, no, she, let me live. I wasn’t convinced.

We approached the tribal settlement and were greeted by two men who I had seen the night before. The old man smiled and gave them a firm nod, and both of them marched over and grabbed me by the shoulder. I dug my feet in to the sand in a futile way to halt their arrest, but it was all in vain. The old man looked at me, “Now is the time to meet our savior, Paka.”

The two men ushered me through the jungle and a valley of sea oats before leading on to the beach where I had first arrived. I could see with much clarity now, and beyond the waters laid a series of colossal rocks covered in coral. The amount and variation of color was staggering - the water was blue on top, crystalline along the bottom, the sea life was a variation of green, yellow, and red, and I could see all the way out. It was absolutely pristine, both beautiful and deadly at the same time. I finally understood what the old man said when he referred to the ‘colored rocks’.

The two men let go of my arms and I stumbled down on to my knees. I looked up in time to notice that they were already making their way back to their settlement, but the old man was still with me, that smirk displayed across his face. He lifted his walking stick and pointed out over the water. I turned my head, and to my horror something ascended from the sea.

She was nothing I had ever seen before. The water gently cascaded off her silver skin as the sun shimmered over her curvy body. Her face was narrow at the nose, her ears curved back and in place of what a normal human would have hair - she had a triple-bladed fin extending atop her skull all the way behind to the base of the neck. She looked so inhumane, but yet she walked like every woman I had ever laid eyes upon. My heart climbed with every step that she took towards me. The elder kneeled down to welcome her approach, but I was too dumbstruck. She was a few feet away from me when the old man slapped me with his walking stick, but I ignored him - my eyes and body transfixed to this, this creature.

She was not but a foot away from me, and to my surprise she smiled, baring white sharp teeth behind her lips. She held out her webbed hands and gently caressed my face, her golden eyes narrowed as she examined me. The old man sighed, but he dared not move nor did he say a word. He just sat there upon his haunches, looking straight ahead.

She reached down and grabbed one of my hands and began to pull me towards the water. I stumbled a ways, but regained my balance before I could fall. She was much larger than any human, at least twice their size - yet she looked so delicate, her body a mixture of silver and blue, and it glistened like a diamond pearl under the scorching sun. I felt the gentle water hugging my toes, providing a cool welcome.

She released my hand and dipped herself in to the waters, disappearing right before my eyes. I was stunned, my eyes darted back and forth to see if I could spot her. She broke through the surface eighteen feet away, a wide grin splashed across her face. I heard the old man yell behind my back, “Go in, Paka.”

I turned around to look at him and was greeted with a broad smile with a hand in the air, waving. I yelled back, “You never told me what ‘Paka’ means!”

“It means Son of the Ocean,” I turned around to gaze at the wading creature in the waters. “In their language. I have chosen you. Please, come with me - I have much to show you.” Her voice was delicate and beautiful, I was captivated the moment she spoke. I descended my way deeper in to the waters, and as I turned back to wave farewell to the elderly man I had noticed he was no longer standing there. He was gone.

I felt a tug on my waist, and before I knew what had happened I was several feet under water - the creature delicately manipulating my body. She clasped her lips over mine, kissing me, and as she kissed me I felt my body open as if I could breathe not just through my lungs, but through every open pore in my skin - I felt alive. She moved her hands around, and a delicate ribbon of siva began to flow out of her palms and embraced my body. I followed the trail of magic as it coursed through the water and bonded itself to me, and to my astonishment I noticed my body changing right before my eyes.

My hands were no longer what they used to be; they were webbed at the joints, and so were my feet. My hair had been replaced by a smooth fin, and my shoulders grew outwards. I had turned in to a male representation of her.

She closed her hands together, discontinuing the ribbon, and smiled as she wrapped her arms around me.

I looked at her and was met with a broad grin. She flicked herself free from our embrace and shot through the water into the deep blue sea, her hand clasped with mine.

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Unique terms used within this piece:

Kriva: Goddess of sleep, desire, and lust.
Siva: Underlying form of magic that grants its users the power to manipulate the elements, body, and spirit.
Paka: Term given to chosen humans by the Ea'Roac.
Ea’Roac: Race and civilization of the ancient peoples who reside along the tropical keys of eastern Le’cira. They praise the Sirens and their noble deities.