Summer 25, 508 AV
One never quite became accustomed to waking with the waves. The nameless island had been one of the few stops Sable made during her journey and Wren had been left to tend the casino as she frolicked island-side with her Tavan. The sun washed across his skin, searing the creamy white of his flesh and baking it toward red. Wrenmae glanced over the side of the ship, enamored by the water. It moved with such serene undulation, constant movement. The ground itself envied the water’s adaptability, but none so much as he.
Would that he could be as water, flowing along the coast and out to open sea. He could touch the lands of all Mizahar, see things he’d never experienced, and tell a story fit for even the gods to listen.
I know, right? Being water is pretty much an ideal
Wren chuckled, pulling the small flask from his belt and shaking it. Good morning to you too, Zan.
Is it? I find most mornings terribly similar. You know. Same sun, same earth, same breeze. Beats the shyke out of home, but…you know, kinda repetitive.
You’d prefer something else rise in place of the sun?
It’s like you can read my mind.
Like what?
I dunno. Something. A giant Miza, or…or…a face. Man, wouldn’t that be terrifying? A giant sun face staring down at you.
Wrenmae shielded his eyes and looked up at the sun, wincing, It would be rather disconcerting.
Damn right it would. Psh. Fleshy telling ME what would be disconcerting. Boy. You out of your damn mind.
What?
Sorry. Personality hiccup. Heard that sort of talk from a desert folk back in Alvadas. Trying it on for size. And now I'm discarding it. I like to liven things up.
Or be completely baffling.
I can’t be both? Live a little! Be confused! Petch, mate, I’m confused why we’re even out here.
Family.
Oh yes. The family with magical immunity to your disease spreading hugs.
I…
Oh come off it. I don’t want any more moping. Blah blah blah Vayt. Blah blah blah Lonely. Blah Blah Blah woe is me.
Shut up, Zan.
Why? Seriously. Make do. We have life and breath. You have me. There. Family.
Not quite the same.
Right. Right. I forgot that the requirement to be your family is a skeleton and skin.
Oh come on, Zan.
Tell me I’m wrong.
You’re wrong.
Once more, now with feeling.
Shut up, Zan. You don’t understand.
I don’t understand? What am I…a sentient tapeworm? Of course I understand.
Just. He sighed. Anything else you want to talk about?
Oh. Yeah. Sure. What’s that thing?
What thing?
The thing climbing into the boat.
Wrenmae spun around in time to see…something, sliding into the back end of the casinor form the sea. It had a bulbous head, strange eyes, and eight tentacles gripping the boat for support as it lunged its way over and into the belly of the ship. It took a few moments for Wrenmae to realize it was an octopus, but one far larger than any he’d seen before. It was pale, with blue circles running across its body like suction marks. Idly it sat in the boat for a moment before pushing forward and into the catch Sable had left aboard. The large fish was still flopping when the octopus fell upon it, suckers latching onto the creature and pulling it close. In a few moments the fish had been stricken still. Wrenmae watched in morbid fascination, having retreated to the prow of the ship to watch the predator scavenge the food left for him.
One never quite became accustomed to waking with the waves. The nameless island had been one of the few stops Sable made during her journey and Wren had been left to tend the casino as she frolicked island-side with her Tavan. The sun washed across his skin, searing the creamy white of his flesh and baking it toward red. Wrenmae glanced over the side of the ship, enamored by the water. It moved with such serene undulation, constant movement. The ground itself envied the water’s adaptability, but none so much as he.
Would that he could be as water, flowing along the coast and out to open sea. He could touch the lands of all Mizahar, see things he’d never experienced, and tell a story fit for even the gods to listen.
I know, right? Being water is pretty much an ideal
Wren chuckled, pulling the small flask from his belt and shaking it. Good morning to you too, Zan.
Is it? I find most mornings terribly similar. You know. Same sun, same earth, same breeze. Beats the shyke out of home, but…you know, kinda repetitive.
You’d prefer something else rise in place of the sun?
It’s like you can read my mind.
Like what?
I dunno. Something. A giant Miza, or…or…a face. Man, wouldn’t that be terrifying? A giant sun face staring down at you.
Wrenmae shielded his eyes and looked up at the sun, wincing, It would be rather disconcerting.
Damn right it would. Psh. Fleshy telling ME what would be disconcerting. Boy. You out of your damn mind.
What?
Sorry. Personality hiccup. Heard that sort of talk from a desert folk back in Alvadas. Trying it on for size. And now I'm discarding it. I like to liven things up.
Or be completely baffling.
I can’t be both? Live a little! Be confused! Petch, mate, I’m confused why we’re even out here.
Family.
Oh yes. The family with magical immunity to your disease spreading hugs.
I…
Oh come off it. I don’t want any more moping. Blah blah blah Vayt. Blah blah blah Lonely. Blah Blah Blah woe is me.
Shut up, Zan.
Why? Seriously. Make do. We have life and breath. You have me. There. Family.
Not quite the same.
Right. Right. I forgot that the requirement to be your family is a skeleton and skin.
Oh come on, Zan.
Tell me I’m wrong.
You’re wrong.
Once more, now with feeling.
Shut up, Zan. You don’t understand.
I don’t understand? What am I…a sentient tapeworm? Of course I understand.
Just. He sighed. Anything else you want to talk about?
Oh. Yeah. Sure. What’s that thing?
What thing?
The thing climbing into the boat.
Wrenmae spun around in time to see…something, sliding into the back end of the casinor form the sea. It had a bulbous head, strange eyes, and eight tentacles gripping the boat for support as it lunged its way over and into the belly of the ship. It took a few moments for Wrenmae to realize it was an octopus, but one far larger than any he’d seen before. It was pale, with blue circles running across its body like suction marks. Idly it sat in the boat for a moment before pushing forward and into the catch Sable had left aboard. The large fish was still flopping when the octopus fell upon it, suckers latching onto the creature and pulling it close. In a few moments the fish had been stricken still. Wrenmae watched in morbid fascination, having retreated to the prow of the ship to watch the predator scavenge the food left for him.