I kicked the water and surfaced again, using the long pole that we used as anchors for our banija to pull myself up faster. The wave threw me around, but it didn’t stop me adjusting myself for a long time underwater. It wasn’t the first time I had been in a storm, but it was certainly the first time I was in one this big. But I managed to do it by closing my eyes. Surprisingly, when I closed my eyes, it didn’t feel any different from any typical waves.

When I was well below the waves, I picked a special whistle we used in calling our Ganenas and let out a fraction of the air in my lungs into it. All I saw were bubbles coming out the other end, and heard no sound at all. But experience has taught me that all ganenas could hear it, and the one I had made my pet would obey it.

Once, when my ganena was injured and couldn’t answer the whistle fast enough, other ganenas had brought her to me dragging her by the fins.

But now, it came on its own. It rubbed it’s side against me and let out a few ear blasting whistles of its own. I rubbed the area near the gills somewhat perfunctorily, we don’t have much time after all, and set about harnessing it to our banija’s tether.

When I was done, it swam off almost immediately. I knew it was going to join the swarm behind their leader. Last time we did this was when we had to hunt a shark that has been disturbing our banija. Trouble was that it was way faster than we could ever hope to achieve even with the strongest and fastest rowers we have. So, we had called the ganenas to help. I was surprised when I saw them converge under the hunt leader’s ganena. But now, I know it makes it easier for them to move as one.

Then, we had moved faster than the shark, ending that particular threat. I wondered if we would be able to outrun this this threat. Maybe. We had the best navigation technology in the world. Some of them were never even heard of among the normal water nomads. Like the one that allowed us to know how deep the ocean floor is from our banija. And also helps detect schools of fishes.

When I surfaced again however, I immediately changed my mind. I immediately knew that nothing we had had prepared us for a storm the magnitude of which was upon us.

Subconsciously, I took note of details which may tell how long the storm may last. The sky was completely covered with low hanging dark clouds. But there was no thunder. It wouldn’t be a quick raging storm. It would be a long oppressing, and depressing, storm.

No bird could be seen even on the horizon. Not even hunter birds that usually take advantage of storms to catch sea animals that came close enough to the surface to be disoriented. No birds mean no fish under, which means deep storm. And means we’re in deep shit.

I regretted thinking that almost immediately. Because a whirlpool whipped out of nowhere and pulled me deep under. Talk of big shit. I struggled for a moment, then remembered my lessons and let it pull me further. It tossed me up and down for a while, then decided I was boring and dropped me like a rock.

I was so deep under I couldn’t even see the shadow of our banija. Not that there would have been much to see anyway, seeing the sky was dark. But still, it left me disoriented. Even the tiniest of light would have helped me get my bearings.

I swam around for a while. I was surprised I didn’t knock into any animal, considering how deep down I was. I wasn’t worried about drowning. I could still last almost an hour underwater. But I was worried about getting lost, with the kind of storm on the surface. Maybe by the time I surfaced, our banija would have moved so far I can’t catch up with it.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I got out my whistle and blew it. I waited. No ganena came to my help. I wondered if they could even see me, assuming any came. But ganenas are intelligent enough to know to let out a whistle, if they didn’t track me from the initial whistle in the first place.

So why are they not here yet?

This puzzled me completely. This was the first time no ganenas answered my whistle.

I decided to stay still and strain my eyes as much as I could. Maybe I will glimpse some flash of light.

I did. Only it wasn’t a flash. It was a steady thrumming light. The only place I knew light could come from was from the surface. So I started swimming towards the light immediately. My brain told me that something wasn’t quite right. But blowing repeatedly on the whistle had reduced my time significantly.

The abrupt shift in pressure told me what was wrong. Formerly, the pressure was increasing the closer I got to the light, as if I was going deeper rather than surfacing. It was the sudden disappearance of this pressure that made me realise it was there.

I didn’t have time to ponder it. I continued swimming towards the light, which was very close now, but still as dull as ever. I couldn’t ignore the anomaly any longer. The light was meant to get brighter as I came closer to the surface.

A dark shape came into my view. It didn’t look like our banija.

What was this?

Whatever it was, it has got me completely hooked. Something that could change the water pressure? Forget the imminent lack of air. I just had to know what it was.

The shape was still dark, and I’ve gotten about as close to it as I could. It seemed the light was seeping out from within the shape. The shape was smooth. I did a lap around it. It looked like one of the house I saw on a sealskin about land people. Their kings lived in such houses. I struggled to recall their names.

Castle. Such houses were called castles.

It had no visible anchors. But I knew from my studies that the anchors were rooted in the ocean floor.

I swum around, till I found what was supposed to be the entrance. Only it was locked. I did another lap around it, seeking another entrance. The towers had no windows, like those on the sealskin had. I swam to the battlements. Maybe, there would be an entrance there.

There was. But for some reason, I couldn’t pass through it, though it was open. It seemed the very water itself threw me back when I tried to pass through it. The only explanation I found was if it was some kind of sea animal’s abode. If the animal could shoot water like some I’ve seen, then it may make sense. But it has to be able to shoot a huge amount and with high force too, to be able to stop my best efforts.

Only I knew that no sea animals lived in castles. I stood on the battlement and pondered. It was then I noticed that the whole area was lit up. It certainly wasn’t when I was on my way. I could see everything around me clearly. Even the anchors from our banija, even though the length has been cut drastically for easier movement.

I also noticed the light shone in a cone, with the point as the castle, and covered the whole of our banija. And yes, there truly wasn’t any sea animals around. So they weren’t avoiding me when I was lost.

A sudden pain in my chest told me that I would not have enough air if I don’t start going up now. I kicked up from the battlement and started for our banija. I got another shock. Once my feet left the battlement, everywhere turned pitch black again.

Wow. Now, this is definitely not normal.

I continued in the direction I had last seen our banija. The pressure remained the same all the way to the surface, which saved me much efforts. As my tutor would tell me, high pressure means more effort to move. More effort to move means my body, means my body would need more air, much like running on the banija. Which means you wouldn’t have much time underwater.

When I surfaced, the storm was somewhat abated, but still dangerously fierce. Whiich was surprising. I was sure I had my readings right. Maybe not. I have not been paying much attention to my lessons afterall. Infact, I never paid much attention to my lessons as far as I knew, except the ones where they taught about the things past.

Not until the Elaenja promised I did not have to succeed him.

I shrugged it off and climbed into the nearest solid surface I could find. I didn’t bother going to the assembly place. Someone must have tethered my boat by now.

What I did not expect though was the long retinue of people waiting for me. I could almost hear their sighs of relief before they blew the two short, one long, two short blasts on the conches that signalled a lost person was found.

I paused in my act of climbing into the banija.

Wait.

Was I lost? I had only been gone for how long? Shortly over an hour and half?

So who the hell told them I was lost? Had I been down there longer than I thought?