The Shores - Rocky Tide Pools

There was a house among the tide pools.

It was circular and made of black, soot-like stone. It hadn’t been there the day before. Starfish, algae and other sea creatures had already started their inexorable march to claim it. It had no doors, only beautiful stained-glass windows, and its flattened conical roof made out of clear and milky glass gleamed in the sun. At high tide, that roof would be the only thing left to see. If you looked at it from the cliffs high above, you might be able to glimpse green patches of leaves inside.

There was a person lying face-down in the sand, a stone’s throw shorewards from the construction. It appeared to be a girl, or a young woman, with brown hair and loose blue clothes. Starfish and sea urchins were climbing on her legs down in a tide pool. Her face was on dry sand. Her hair, long enough to reach her shoulders, wrapped around her head like a spiky helmet, in just about the fashion you’d expect for someone who only washed with salt water for a while. Her clothes looked worn and similarly stiff, with lighter patches under her armpits and behind the knees, as if it’d been a long time since she wore anything else. The fabric’s wrinkles were white with salt. The forearms and calves peeking out from her robe-like blouse and trousers were unhealthily thin, and her skin had the dull, clay-like color of one normally used to the sun, who’d missed it. She was tall or, at least, would have been tall for a woman back in her world.

In her right arm, she held an oar. She wasn’t moving.

Not unless you looked at her carefully. Ever so slightly, up, down, up, down, her shoulder-blades rose and fell.

Movement. Warmth. Pain.

“If I were dead, ya woul’of still woken me!” The stray grumbled, shielding her face with one arm.

When the pain subsided, she cautiously peered above the limb, revealing a pair of large cinnamon-colored eyes and features that would have been pleasant, in an impish way, were it not for her pallor and boyish eyebrows. Her eyes narrowed as they struggled to focus. First impressions: gold piercings, red hair, silks, sky.

The former drowning victim snapped up so fast, that she nearly head-butted her finder. The sky! Her fingers reached as if to touch it. They were shaking. More times than she would like to admit, she’d put her sleeve over her face, trying to remember what the sky felt like. She reached down by her side, grasped a handful of the little sand scattered above the rocky shore, and let it trickle down her face.

“It’s real…” She murmured, in a language that no one on the island would understand. For a moment she’d look fearful, as if she was about to dart. Then she saw the black-stone building settled in one of the tide pools, and let out a deep breath. “We’re here.” Her shoulders fell. She must’ve gotten untied from the safety line while trying to guide the building towards the shore, or perhaps untied herself, which further underlined the point of needing a safety.

Her legs itched, and she absently reached to scratch them. She looked down.

“Aaaah!!!” She yelped, shaking her feet to get the sea creatures off her. The sea urchins fell, but for sea-stars, they had to be peeled off. Nina threw them towards the water with all the energy she could muster. She was about to do the same with an urchin, for additional revenge, but instead stopped, cracked it open with a knife that she took from a sheath attached to her sash, and slurped up the tasty contents.

She ate another before remembering to share. With the widest grin on her face, she showed how to hold the broken creature so as to avoid the spines, drain the liquid and the guts, and scoop the tasty yellow bits off the inside of the shell.

“Gratitudes.” Nina spoke, with a nod of the head. Then stuffed her face with another scoop of sea urchin caviar. “You…spoke Trader’s, dek? Tradertalk?” The newcomer’s accent was strangely airy and musical. Nothing precisely like what any in Port Argentium had heard before. Even her yelp had sounded odd. She looked behind her, on the shore, but the cliff blocked off the view. “Is this the Brass Coast? One of the League Cities? Where…” She shook her head.

Where could a floating tower have possibly brought her?

It wasn’t a pretty sight as the girl ate her findings. Devoured, would be more like it. You’d have thought that arriving in a glasshouse, she’d have had plenty to tide her over to the new world, but the majority of Gray’s plants would kill if she tried to bite them. It had taken weeks for the seeds and wood of the feathery plant he called ‘cycad’ to ferment enough to be presumed safe. The girl wasn’t sure if the salty, rusty taste on her tongue was urchin, or if the cracks in the corners of her mouth, borne from the limited freshwater, had opened again. Something deep inside her craved those minerals no matter what the source.

“I’ve been better. Worse, too.” The vagabond gasped in a pause between stuffing food into her face. Just eating left her winded. It was a miracle she’d been able to keep herself above the water enough to reach the shore. “Still got a scar from the time an eldritch creature tried dragging me down in the mist. My mentor jumped after me,” she gestured a blade with a slash of her arm, “sliced the grasping tentacle, and ate it.” She traced a faint white line across her ankle. “Not the large scar though, that’s from when I fell off a chair. Your crabs are escaping.” Nina added, watching the insect-like beings carefully maneuver away from a pile of shellfish. She picked one up, hesitated, and threw it back.

There was an audible shuffle among the crustaceans, almost as if they tasted the predatory hunger in the air. The thinnest shred of politeness constrained Nina.

“Guess you’ve been carried by the Great Wave too, huh…” She mused. Nina studied the stranger with newfound admiration. Traders crossed many lands, whether in their ships or their caravans, but how far away must this woman come from that she didn’t even what Traders were? “I’m Nina. Travelling painter. And…” She hesitated. Stopped, before fully acknowledging the formerly floating building. Some cultures were draconic about magic, and the last thing she wanted was to attract a mob while Gray was still unresponsive. That is, if he was still alive…Her fingers clenched, and her eyes fixed on the stained-glass windows. Still, it’s not as if she could deny its existence. “Do you want to see it up close? I need to check up on things.”

She decided to leave for later the thought that she’d reverted, instinctively, to her previous profession, while still calling the assassin her mentor. Instead, she tried to make herself helpful by helping recover the escapee crabs. By now, she’d reached the point where eating any more wouldn’t have been worth the effort it took.

“What’s your name?” Nina asked. Her eyebrows rose good-naturedly. Silks and gold! “Apologies for my assumptions, but you don’t look like someone who’s been away from anywhere where people live for too long.”

As she wanders down the shoreline, Sylvanie would feel the ground beneath her feet transition from soft sand to the slippery rocks of the tide pools. She walks carefully, her leafy clothes still damp from the sea, sand strewn in her wet hair and along her back, and the dress' bottom torn some from the rough journey the waves had took her on. Her eyes look down at her feet as to make sure she doesn't slip on the rocks and hurt herself; bare feet didn't make for the best traction on surfaces like this.

Despite her efforts, though, she slips, barely catching herself as she lets out a short, surprised noise, startled by the loss of her balance for the second. Quickly recovering, she keeps forwards, making sure to step over or around any particularly sharp rocks and to carefully balance on the overly slick ones, hoping to find someone here to tell her what exactly happened and where here just so happened to be. 

After a long walk along the shore, Sylvanie sighs, her stomach growling. For the first time since she awoke, she could tell she hadn't eaten in a long while. So, instead of trailing the shore, she decided to turn inland, hoping to find some edible plants, and perhaps some water while she was at it. Her hunt for answers would have to wait as her hunt for sustenance took precedent. 

Theodosia gasped, immaculately-manicured hand rising to her mouth at Nina's mention of her mentor's current state. The woman's tale sounded tragic for sure, and the thought of giant waves sweeping across the land and snapping stone towers in half made her shudder. How could anybody talk about such a traumatic event so calmly? The flooding hadn't been nearly as violent where she was from (although it had ended up just as deep) and she still didn't like to think about it. She still had nightmares of sinking and drowning, of seeing her home slipping away beneath the waves. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind of such terrible thoughts. 

"Are you...quite sure that your mentor is alive?" she asked, words coming hesitantly. She didn't want to upset the woman, but falling asleep for weeks certainly didn't sound like the actions of a living person. Was Nina simply in shock and denial about the loss of one of her few remaining loved ones? Theodosia certainly wouldn't put it past her. Anybody would be a bit crazy if they'd been riding on a house with their dead mentor for a few weeks. Stepping up to the rope, she frowned. The sturdy line looked to be within reach, but every time she stretched a hand up towards it, she found it just barely too far away. How odd. 

"I don't know much about magic or towers," she said, frowning at the stone structure. "But I certainly can't see how such a thing could possibly float. Perhaps we could get a ladder? If we head down to the settlement, I'm sure there are some people there who could help. They might have some questions about a magical floating tower, though."

Seeing Nina press her ear to the slimy stone, Theodosia raised an eyebrow. She leaned in close to listen, holding her hair carefully out of the way and making sure not to touch the wet, algae-covered wall. Not hearing anything in particular, she shook her head and stepped back.

"I'd say I'm pretty good at fortune-telling," she said, relieved to finally be talking about something she knew. "It's a gift, or so they say. Something you're born with. I was born under a mystical star, beneath a portentous moon...or at least, that's what my mother said. My father said I was born under a rain cloud. He always suspected that my mother was having an affair with the town crier, and my hair color didn't help."

She sighed, sniffling slightly as her memories of her parents rose afresh to the front of her mind. They'd argued a lot, but she missed them dearly. She supposed they could still be alive, floating off somewhere on a boat, but unless they'd managed to get themselves washed up on an island their chances would be slim. Of course, this wasn't a concern that she could share with a stranger. After all, what sort of mystic would she be if she couldn't even see if her parents still lived? Wiping her eyes on a handkerchief, she kept silent and swallowed her fears, feeling the ever-growing knot of stress in her stomach twist a little bit tighter. If only she had somebody to talk to...perhaps she'd be able to confide in this woman? She seemed nice enough.

"I don't know much about jobs," she said, shrugging. "I suppose the settlement always needs loggers and carpenters and people to go fishing...but those all seem like hard, dangerous tasks. I have my fortune-telling business..."

Trailing off, she scrutinized Nina, trying to glean some insight from the young woman's dirty face and salt-crusted hair. She certainly seemed earnest enough, and nobody knew her...perhaps she could be useful.

"I might have a job for you," she said, "but it's a bit...delicate. Can you keep a secret, Nina?"

Theodosia found herself in turmoil, biting nervously at her painted lower lip as she silently debated as to whether she should tell this woman about her secrets. She wanted desperately to confess, to finally get the crushing weight of her continued lies off her chest...but what if she was wrong? What if this Nina woman couldn't be trusted and ended up spilling her secrets to the whole camp? She'd be ruined...no, even worse. She'd be ostracized as a fraud, possibly even driven out of the colony and exiled. What would she do then? It'd be a death sentence, she couldn't survive in the wild. The thought terrified her...but somehow, the idea of being alone with her lies scared her even more. She couldn't very well tell Absalom, it wouldn't be the same. He already knew everything, he was used to it. Besides, the lad was missing. Confessing to this woman, though, this stranger...she could almost taste the relief, the release of all this tension. Keeping up appearances all the time, lying to everyone, pretending that she had abilities that she didn't really have...it was exhausting. Every false reading and fake seance wore her down just a little bit more, and she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to keep it up. Confiding in someone would be an act of self-preservation, allowing Nina to bear some of the weight of her secrets. Nodding to herself, she made up her mind, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"My fortune-telling," she said, voice trembling. "It...it's not real. It's fake. A scam. All of it. The palm readings, the cards, the crystal ball. It's all an act, always has been. People come to me looking for answers and I tell them what they want to hear and take their money. That's all I've ever done. I tell them their loved ones are at peace, I give them vague prophecies about new strangers and old friends, I tell them that they were born under fortunate stars...it's all made up, Nina. I can't actually see into the future. I can't talk to the dead. I can't do any of it! I'm a fraud, a charlatan, a fake."

She realized that she was babbling, but she found herself unable to stop. The words spilled from her mouth like the floodwaters that had drowned her home, unstoppable and endless. She told Nina about trick cards and loaded knucklebones, of "magic" sticks gathered outside in the woods and her drugged incense to make people more relaxed and suggestible. She spoke of how she'd pored over books of fortunes for hours, practicing them over and over in front of the mirror until she knew them by heart. She even admitted, with tears in her eyes, how she'd taken to telling people about how the spirits of their loved ones preached generosity in an effort to encourage them to tip better. It was a long confession, but she could feel the weight of the secrets being relieved like a stone off of her chest. She sniffled, not wanting to cry in front of this virtual stranger but unable to stop a few errant tears from splashing into the tidepools at her feet.

"It's always been this way," she concluded, wiping her eyes. "My family has always made a living telling fortunes. They say my great-great-grandmother actually had the gift, but none after her have had even an inkling of any real ability. It's all been tricks and scams. I...I've never told this to anybody outside the family. Please don't tell anyone, Nina. If word gets out...it would be bad for me. I need people to believe, or I'll be ruined. Um...that's what the job would be about. Helping fortunes come true. Making people really believe that what I can do is real. Can you help me, Nina?"

Sighing, she took a deep, shuddering breath and looked into Nina's eyes. She waited, suddenly tense, waiting for Nina to lash out. What would she do if the woman refused to help, if she decried her as a criminal and went to tell the settlement? Would she be able to stop her? Did she even deserve to try? A slip on these rocks could easily end in a serious head injury, and nobody even knew Nina existed...but no, what was she thinking? She couldn't possibly kill someone, not even to keep her secrets safe. So, clutching her shaking hands together, Theodosia waited for Nina's reaction and prayed that it was positive. It had to be. She didn't want to think about the alternative.

As truthful as it was, Nina's cold proclamation that Theodosia was a scammer struck her like a thrown knife. She flinched, cringing as she resisted the urge to protest. Whenever she'd heard those words before, they'd usually been followed up by demands for money back and occasional threats of violence. Nobody liked to be scammed, and she'd had to talk her way out of quite a number of sticky situations in the past. Thankfully, Nina continued on, her words allowing Theodosia to relax. It was comforting to hear the things she told herself over and over again every night coming from somebody else's mouth, to say the least. Finally, somebody else understood! Even if it was a scam, surely she couldn't be blamed for making people happier. Part of her wondered how much of that she actually believed, but she ignored the thought. No sense on dwelling on unhappy ruminations, after all.

"Thank you," she whispered, voice low and conspiratorial despite the lack of any potential eavesdroppers. "Thank you, Nina. It's...it's been hard. It's not an easy thing to do, deceiving people all the time, and I could really use some help. I've had to move a lot, you know? Sometimes the town will decide that they don't believe in me anymore and start to think that they've been losing their money. I've been forced to run away, to move somewhere else and start over fresh. It's always easy at the start, everyone wants to see the marvelous new mystic...but I can't run away here. There's nowhere else for me to go, Nina. If they realize that I can't actually see the future, I don't know what they'll do. I don't know what I'll do. That's why I need you to help me, to really convince people that I can do what I say. I'll do anything to help you, too. I'll keep your secrets. You won't need to hurt anyone, I couldn't possibly ask that of you."

On an impulse, she stepped forward, pulling Nina close into a tight embrace. The woman was practically a stranger, and yet she'd spilled out the secrets that could quite literally be the difference between life and death. She didn't know if she'd made a mistake or not, but she was sure of one thing: the weight was gone. She almost didn't care if Nina told everyone at this point, the sense of relief was so great. A few moments passed before she released the embrace, stepping back and awkwardly dusting sand and salt off of her clothes.

"What can I do to help you, Nina?" she asked, picking a stray piece of seaweed out of her hair. "Do you need a place to live? New clothes? Food? I haven't got much, but you're welcome to anything you need."