THE FIRST BEAMS OF dawnlight dappled the deep blue of the blanket as a feather-soft breeze tickled the curtains. Sasa’l awoke, as she often had over the last few weeks, to an empty bed. For a moment, her heart tightened, relaxing when she heard him moving about the house. At the sound, she had to smile; he tried to be quiet, he really did, but to her ears he sounded like a lumbering rhinox. Sasa’l stretched, nudging the blanket aside as she rose. Wrapping a light robe around her lithe body, she set off to join him. The rising suns crested the deep blue of the ocean horizon, climbing lazily into the late summer sky. Tiosa was, as he often had been over the last few weeks, dressed and ready for the day. For a moment, he stood quietly, knowing Sasa’l would be waking up about now. Tiosa thought about returning to bed with her, but he caught a whiff of a uniquely peculiar tang on the air. Storm’s coming, he thought, pausing for another moment to let his senses absorb nature’s signals. Going to be a big one… He took a deep breath, then moved to get his gear together. Tiosa, his thoughts already several hours in the future, didn’t hear Sasa’l approach. She watched him for a little while, a soft smile on her lips. “The river is not so far,” she said, breaking the silence. It took Tiosa a long moment to bring himself back to the here-and-now; his thoughts had been rather distant, as her aphorism suggested. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have a lot on my mind.” He stepped over and took Sasa’l in his arms, kissing her forehead. “You’re not sleeping well,” she remarked. “No, no I’m not.” He smiled weakly. He knew Sasa’l thought he’d been waking an hour or two before her; in truth, Tiosa was actually sleeping less than two hours each night. The rest of the night was spent lost in thought, or doodling in notebooks he kept carefully hidden, or sometimes walking aimlessly around the island. And when he did sleep, the dreams came. Oh, the dreams… “Stay,” she said, pulling him closer. “Stay, and we can talk. Or a swim, that seems to relax you.” “I can’t,” replied Tiosa, reluctantly stepping away from her embrace. “I have to get the boat out, catch what I can. There’s a storm coming, a big one.” “Go then,” Sasa’l said gently. “I need to go to market. Hopefully I can get some ayath root this time. I know how you…” Her voice trailed off as she realized she was talking to an empty room. Suppressing the pang of an increasingly familiar sadness, Sasa’l went back into the bedroom to dress. * * * * * * * * * * * * * TIOSA’S BOAT RODE AT anchor, some distance away from the island he and Sasa’l called home. He’d only been out a couple of hours, but his nets were almost half full. Several other boats from nearby islands were scattered within a kilometer, their nets out as well. The saberfish were schooling today, unusual in the quantity and doubly so for the time of year. It was an opportunity not to be missed. Abruptly, though, Tiosa began pulling in his nets, dumping the saberfish into his boat’s water-filled hold. Ropes creaked as they strained against the weight of the fish, and the boat rocked as if off-balance. Tiosa had built her well, though, and she was capable of holding much more than what he’d gathered. The fishers on the nearest boats looked at Tiosa quizzically, waving to get his attention as they were just barely too far away to yell. He finally noticed, and made quick, chopping hand gestures to indicate dahk'tar, an oncoming storm. Some of the less seasoned fishers looked at the sky, clear with a smattering of clouds, and turned dismissively back to their work. Tiosa, having delivered his warning, paid the other boats no mind. With his nets stowed and haul secured, he pulled his anchor and turned the boat back towards the island. * * * * * * * * * * * * * THE UNNAMED ISLAND THAT Tiosa and Sasa’l made their home on was on the western rim of an extensive archipelago, several hundred smaller islands surrounding a group of seven large ones. The market that Sasa’l preferred was on the second-largest island, Khor’u, which was only an hour’s journey from her home. Normally, she’d make a day of her trip to market, taking time to peruse the merchants’ sundry wares or enjoying a long lunch with her friends. Several of them made their homes on Khor’u, and Sasa’l would often visit and occasionally spend the night. Today, though, she moved with quiet purpose, her own thoughts uncharacteristically distant. She’d found the ayath root she’d wanted, taking a few minutes to stock up on a variety of spices and preserving agents. She was heading for the shop where she knew she could get cantu, the sweet confection that Tiosa had a weakness for, when she heard a voice call her name. “Sasa’l,” the gently rasping voice said again. Sasa’l turned to see Y’sol, one of Khor’u’s elders as well as the Revered One, the chief shamaness. “The river is not so far, my dear.” Y’sol gestured towards a nearby café. “Sit, my dear. The p’mar is fresh today.” Sasa’l smiled at the echo of her own words to Tiosa, earlier that day. “Apologies, honored Mother, but I cannot. I have one more stop to make, and then I must return home.” “Such haste is not like you, my dear,” the older woman smiled. “You must have good reason.” “I do, honored Mother. Tiosa this morning said that a storm was coming, a strong one.” Y’sol thought for a moment. “As long as he has been among us, O’ho’ulho has not been wrong about a storm, not once.” Sasa’l paused; only Y’sol and a handful of the other elders called Tiosa by that name. She wondered what it meant, but didn’t dare ask. Only the elders had the right to use the ancient tongue. Y’sol quietly cleared her throat, and embraced Sasa’l warmly. “Go quickly, then. I will spread the word here. Be careful, my dear.” Sasa’l bowed and headed for the sweet shop. Soon after, she was at the helm of her small boat, steering a course for home.
THE MORE EXPERIENCED FISHERS heeded Tiosa’s warning and pulled in their nets, heading for their home islands shortly after Tiosa had departed. The others finally got the hint, though one of them, a young man named Nos, was caught in the storm’s trailing edge. Debris from his boat drifted through the archipelago a few days later, but Nos was never seen again. Tiosa anchored his boat in a small cay on the island’s leeward side; it would be protected from the storm by the cay’s rock formations. He was relieved to see Sasa’l’s boat also tied up in the cay, glad that she’d made it to market and back. I wonder if she bought any cantu, he thought as he made his way to their house near the center of the island. The house was actually mostly underground, with only the entranceway and outer greatroom fully exposed. These were reinforced with r’vi wood, and had withstood storms since before Tiosa and Sasa’l had moved in. Of the rest of the house, only a few windows were visible; the rest was covered with stone embankments or sand drifts. Tiosa had sealed the doors and pulled the inner and outer shutters down over the windows just minutes before the storm hit. True to Tiosa’s prediction, it was a strong storm, unusually fierce and powerful, but Sasa’l went about her business in the kitchen as if the gale outside was no more than a light spring breeze. Tiosa had brought one of the saberfish with him from the boat, leaving the others in the hold. They’d stay alive there until he was ready to move them. "You’ll catch the fish,” Sasa’l said lightly, a teasing smile on her lips, “and you’ll eat the fish, but you’ll not clean and cook the fish? Such work is beneath you, perhaps? I have seen you cook before, and well.” "Do you remember the last time I tried to cook saberfish?” Tiosa replied, handing Sasa’l the small dish with the ayath root he’d grated for her. "Not if I can help it,” she laughed. Sasa’l turned her attention back to the cooking fire. “The meal will be ready soon. Go, sit and relax.” "As you wish,” smiled Tiosa as he left the kitchen. He occupied himself by straightening the bed covers for the few minutes until the meal was ready, then joined Sasa’l in the inner greatroom. A simple but hearty meal was laid out for the two of them: saberfish steaks, garnished with the grated ayeth root and some alen slices, and a generous helping of various vegetables from their small garden. Tall carafes of chilled o’saer juice waited by the plates. Sasa’l offered a quiet invocation to the Ones above, and then they ate. Later, Tiosa and Sasa’l snuggled by the greatroom’s stone hearth, the dying fire casting warmly flickering shadows through the room. Outside, the storm continued to rage unabated. Sharp rays of blue light poked through the shutters whenever a bolt of lightning cut through the sky near the house. The subsequent peals of thunder were muffled somewhat by the house’s sturdy walls, but they were still rather loud. Not loud enough to prevent conversation, though. Tiosa and Sasa’l discussed the events of the last few days, thoughts on the upcoming Harvest, and other inconsequential topics. As time passed, the conversation passed into a comfortable silence, and at one point, Tiosa thought Sasa’l had fallen asleep. “I found this,” said Sasa’l without preamble, “in the kitchen today, while I was looking for the d’hir.” She held out her hand. Laying in her open palm was a small metal item, brushed brass in color with a barely-noticeable patina and some age-related scratches. It was shaped like a triangle, or maybe an arrowhead. “It is not something I have seen before.” Tiosa sighed. “It’s a.. charm, of sorts. The day I found it, I lost something of great value to me." "Then why do you keep it?” “Because the day I found it, I also found you.” * * * * * * * * * * * * * SHORTLY THEREAFTER, TIOSA AND Sasa’l retired to bed. The storm still howled outside, though it had become significantly weaker. It would most likely blow itself out well before dawn. Tiosa did actually sleep, for about an hour, waking up to the eerie silence that always followed a storm. He lay still for several minutes, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness and listening to Sasa’l breathe. Deep and rhythmic, it told Tiosa that she was indeed fast asleep. Finally, he got up and dressed, utterly silent. Tiosa stopped in the greatroom long enough to retrieve the brass charm that Sasa’l had left on the small table near the hearth, slipping it into a pocket at his waist. With long-practiced motions, he unsealed the main entrance door with the barest of sounds and closed it behind him with equal stealth. His feet led him, almost of their own volition, down a well-worn path. Soon, Tiosa found himself at the sheltered cay. He quickly boarded his boat and cast off, setting a course away from the archipelago. Once he’d cleared the small barrier islands that surrounded his home island, he emptied the boat’s hold, freeing the saberfish. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened the vents that allowed water to flow through the hold, locking them wide. The boat began sinking slowly, almost reluctantly. Tiosa had chosen this spot, knowing that before long the boat would be discovered, even if he wouldn’t. Better for her to think I’m dead, he thought. That way, she’d eventually move on; if she thought I was still alive, it would eat at her unceasingly. Tiosa pulled the brass charm from his pocket, absentmindedly rubbing at the patina with his thumb. He took a long look back in the direction of the island, then raised the charm to his mouth and spoke words he swore he’d never use. Never say never again, I suppose. “Initialize sequence delta-six-six-gamma-four, code command ‘Recurve Arbor’.” Sequence online, a pleasant contralto voice replied. Awaiting final code key. Gabriel Frost took a deep breath, savoring the electric tickle that hung in the air, the final remnants of the storm he’d predicted. “Code key…” “Connie.” The insistent tug of a transporter beam enveloped Gabriel; within seconds, he’d vanished completely, disappearing from the archipelago just as suddenly as he’d appeared, seemingly a lifetime ago. * * * * * * * * * * * * * Some time later… GABRIEL, ESCHEWING THE AUTOMATED landing sequence as always, smoothly guided the Unforgiven, his one-time captain’s yacht and often home-away-from-home, into her berth at the top of his starship’s saucer section. As he stepped out of the yacht into a dimly-lit hallway, he was greeted by a young girl’s excited voice. “You’re back! You’re back!” “I missed you, Seraph,” Gabriel smiled. “I missed you too, Daddy…” * * * * * * * * * * * * * As usual, I've sprinkled my entry with movie and TV references, some of them fairly obscure... hope y'all enjoy the entry. FYI, this takes place sometime after my June challenge entry, "Then Welcome, Hail! Damnation".