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Reshfen Kelp Forest, Seafaes | Late Spring
The light from the sun was growing dim by the time Naoto made it through the line of the kelp forest, fading faintly as he followed the trail towards home. He knew the way by heart, no matter the season, and so the lack of light did not slow him.
The clinic was still dark and empty; his dad hadn’t tended to anyone while Naoto had been away. Ondes could be stubborn, even after an episode, refusing to let his condition define his limits, but Naoto was thankful that Ondes had decided to let himself rest. Well, for the most part. Naoto could tell that his dad was up and about once more upon hearing the soft crack of shellfish being split open as soon as he had come through the front door.
Swimming up through the porthole to their home above the clinic, Naoto quietly made his way to the kitchen. Unlike that morning, Ondes was sitting at the table he had used to steady himself. His silver-streaked, golden hair was tied back in a low, loose fashion and his speckled seafoam tail curled gently around the stone stool on which he sat. In his hand was a dulled shucking knife, before him on the granite table top was a spread of mussels and a bowl for their meat. Though his movements were slow, his hands did not shake and moved with a practiced efficiency.
Ondes paused and offered a smile upon seeing Naoto home. The corners of his eyes crinkled and the smile only partially hid his exhaustion. “You took your time.”
Naoto gripped the strap of his bag and shrugged with both shoulders. He floated down onto a stool at the table, setting his bag on the floor. He carefully removed a grayish, speckled egg that fit in the palm of his hand and held it out to Ondes.
Ondes let out a weak chortle. “Oh, I know this trick.” He set the shucking knife down and wiped his hands off on a nearby dish rag. “Okay. Let’s hear it. How many days is the caravan delayed?”
Naoto pressed his mouth together in a thin line, his frown spreading. “You might want to eat the egg first.”
His dad looked at him expectantly, leaning his chin on one hand and taking the speckled egg from Naoto with the other. He didn’t need to inspect it. “This is a gull’s egg. I didn’t think they were in season quite yet.”
Naoto cringed, his tongue peeking out of his mouth in disgust as his dad crunched down on the narrow end of the egg and slurped out the clear whites and the bright orange yolk. He finished by breaking the shell into smaller pieces and popping them in his mouth. Bird eggs - any kind of eggs, really - were unappetising; Naoto thought they were like eating a big wad of snot.
“Since you’ve brought me an egg, I’m to assume it’s not days, but weeks?” Ondes guessed again. Naoto shook his head, wispy bangs hovering in the water from the movement. Then it was Ondes’s turn to frown. “Months?”
“It’s not coming at all. The Lotan was in the current,” Naoto delivered the news and watched what color had come back to Ondes’s face drain away again. “There was one survivor but it doesn’t sound like he’s going to make it.”
“The Lotan,” Ondes breathed lowly. “You’re sure of this?”
“I can’t think of any other giant monsters that attack nereids and also like to use the clear currents.”
Ondes’s mouth pulled to the side in solemn thought. He idly scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Well. The leviathan tide hasn’t started yet.” He spoke as if he were trying to convince himself of it, more than state it as fact. “Perhaps it veered west of us. Still, we should make travel packs and keep them near the door.”
Exhaustion and shame blanketed Naoto’s senses, tugging his thoughts to the coming summer solstice. The exhaustion, he was sure, was shared between the two of them with that day’s events, but the shame...
“With my luck it’ll come on my birthday,” Naoto feigned a mumble, playing with an empty mussel shell between his long fingers. His eyes stayed locked on the empty shell as he waited for Ondes’s response. “That’s not the best present.”
“What?”
Naoto blinked and covered his words with a yawn that was only half-fake. “My birthday is in six weeks. The Lotan’s early.”
Ondes huffed. He thought knew exactly where Naoto was going with that train of thought. “Don’t say such things about yourself. If it comes, it comes. It isn’t any more your fault than when you were a baby. And if it does come on your birthday, we’ll- we’ll celebrate after. I promise.”
“But I’m right, right?” Naoto finally glanced from the mussel shell to his dad. “It’s about a birthday present?”
Ondes looked as if Naoto had shot a harpoon right through him. Then he almost scowled, his shoulders bunching and then relaxing as he realized his plan had been found out. “Why, you little goblin shark. Exactly how long did you know your present was coming in on the caravan?” He shook his head, silvered blonde hair bobbing with the motion. “Actually. No, don’t tell me. I had been hoping it would have been a surprise.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“You were way too concerned about a simple merchant caravan,” Naoto pointed out, holding up one finger. “But I felt your concern also involved me.”
“I’m your father, I’m always concerned about you.” Ondes rolled his eyes. “Especially because you use that Will sense of yours to be nosier than a dolphin.”
Naoto grinned in victory. “So. What did you get me? Might as well tell me, since there’s no way it’ll be a surprise now.”
Ondes tapped his fingers on the table twice, before curling his fingers against his palms. His tail gripped the stool just ever so tighter. “Perhaps after dinner.”
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Naoto sat on his hammock, his dad sitting next to him. He had guessed his present to be anything from an Atmosan-tailored cloak to even a new shell comb. He was never picky about gifts but he was always curious.
But the thin, flat folded sea silk cloth in his dad’s lap was not something that seemed new. The sea silk cloth frayed at the edges and its once urchin purple hue had been bleached by the years.
“Truth be told, I had ordered a bottle of irogane polish,” Ondes explained. His hands played with the edges of the cloth. “It’s hard to come by on this side of Seafaes, but someone tipped me off about a seller just over the border in Atmosa.”
Naoto glanced from the wrapped item to his dad’s face, searching for some reason why he would need irogane polish. All of the metal tools in the clinic were treated silver or low-grade orichalcum.
Ondes very slowly unwrapped the item in his lap. Naoto instantly recognized the handle as belonging to a blade, a blade that certainly wasn’t like any they should have had laying around.
Ondes ran his thumb over the pearl hilt before unwrapping the rest of the ceremonial weapon. Though its appearance had dulled to a greenish hue from lack of use, it was clear the blade was ornate and great care was placed in the handle carving and the blade work. The handle bore intricate lines and half-circles, centered around a four-pointed star, and the blade itself had once been a pale color.
“It was white irogane once upon a time, if you’d believe that,” Ondes said. “I was planning on cleaning it up before I gave it to you.”
“Why do you have a knife like this?” Naoto asked him.
“It’s a dagger,” Ondes corrected him, smiling tiredly. “You’ll be fully grown this year. Or at least as far as the census is concerned.” He elbowed his son in jest. "So I thought it an appropriate time to give you this. It’s the only clue I have left to give you about... where you came from.”
Ondes gingerly handed the blade to Naoto. Naoto loosely held it, it felt heavy and wrong in his hands, the curve of his fingers barely keeping it from falling from his grip.
“There was also a note. But, ah, the urchins got to it shortly after your first birthday. I was so devastated... At least until those otters showed up and started eating them all, the prickly little pests deserved it.” Ondes’s seafoam tail fins kneaded the water in mild disappointment at the memory. “That dagger was used to stick the note to my door when I finally brought you home. The note told me your name and that it wasn’t safe with your family, wherever they went."
Naoto remained silent, his eyes locked on the ornate blade in his hands.
“I searched for as long as I was able to. Never had much in the way of leads, but if you'd want to try to find them… Know that I'll be here for you.”
Birth family? They were a thought that rarely crossed Naoto’s mind. When they did, the thoughts they brought were never kind. They had abandoned him - their child, a baby - in the aftermath of a catastrophe. He had always assumed it was because he wasn’t exactly a normal child - scaleless, more prone to the cold, his Will manifested so differently than Ondes’s or any of his friends...
“I don't want to find them,” Naoto finally said in a whisper, as if the words grated his throat. His face felt hot and his eyes stung as he swallowed back a lump in his throat.
“If,” Ondes gently repeated. He wrapped an arm around Naoto’s shoulders, drawing him in for a hug. “If you want to. It’s your choice and yours alone. I only want you to know it’s an option, if you ever want it.”
Naoto was very sure that he did not. And that he would never.
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That night it felt like the water in his room had dropped by twenty degrees - become inhospitable for him. Like it was a cold, thick sludge.
Naoto lay on his side in his hammock, wrapped in his usual bundle of blankets - his tail stiffly tucked close to him. Only the top part of his face peeked out, large amber eyes locked on the purple cloth sitting on the nightstand. It felt like every time he blinked the cloth moved further away from him.
After Ondes had gone to bed, Naoto had wrapped the dagger back up. He wanted so badly to shove the blade into the furthest nook of a drawer or closet; or maybe chuck it into one of the old world ruins to be consumed by a shellfish harvest. But, a part of him argued, finally giving him the dagger had meant a lot to his dad. He only wished-
Naoto clenched his eyes shut. The sound of metal clattering to the floor made him open them again. The dagger wasn’t on his nightstand anymore. Sitting up, he slid the top half of himself out of his blanket nest and squinted as he looked around his dark room. His eyes told him the same as his extrasensories: no one was there.
Naoto glanced to the floor and found the pearl handle peeking out of the sea silk. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. Sure enough, the dagger and cloth were still there.
Placed it too close to the edge, he figured.
Naoto let out a very deep breath that he was only barely aware he had been holding. He drew in an equally large one in turn, then slithered out of his hammock to scoop the blade and silk off the floor.
It can stay, he reasoned with himself as he set it back on his nightstand. At least until he felt the dagger disappearing wouldn’t hurt his dad’s feelings. Then it was off to the back of his closet.
With a weary sigh, he floated over to and pushed aside the curtain to his closet. He reached up to the highest shelf, feeling around in the darkness for the small mason jar he had hidden behind his winter cloak. Three flat, silvery fish with pale yellow stripes were face-down, tail-up in a deep blue brine. Naoto popped off the top of the jar and selected one of the fish, the quickly resealed it before any of the blue brine got out. He carefully put the jar back.
“Not going to sleep tonight anyways,” he, in a mumbled whisper, sighed before he ate and swallowed the whole dreamfish.
Naoto then returned to his nest of blankets, getting as cozy as possible before the world around him started spinning.