You are the only one I need

CHAPTER 3 - The Return

In the stillness just before dawn, the world is draped in a veil of quiet anticipation. The darkness of night still holds sway, but the first hints of light linger on the horizon, promising the imminent arrival of a new day. The air is cool and crisp, carrying the scent of salt and seaweed as it gently rustles through the foliage along the coastline. The ocean lies calm and serene, its surface reflecting the deep indigo of the pre-dawn sky like a vast mirror. Above, the stars twinkle faintly, reluctant to fade into the coming light. The moon, a pale crescent hanging low in the sky, casts a silvery glow over the landscape, illuminating the reef with a soft, ethereal light. On the reef itself, life stirs quietly in the darkness. Marine creatures, accustomed to the rhythms of the ocean, begin to emerge from their slumber, their movements slow and deliberate as they prepare for the day ahead. Fish dart among the coral formations, their scales catching the faintest glimmer of starlight as they navigate the labyrinth of the reef. The world seems to hold its breath at this moment, suspended between the darkness of night and the promise of a new dawn. It's a time of quiet reflection, when the beauty of the natural world is revealed in its purest form, untouched by the hustle and bustle of daytime activity. Over the tranquil waters, a subtle palette of colours emerges, with hues of pink, orange, and gold blending seamlessly with the fading remnants of the night. The surface of the water mirrors this celestial canvas, shimmering softly in the growing light. Birds, too, join in the symphony of the morning. Illus call out in melodious cries, their fins catching the first rays of sunlight as they glide gracefully in the water. Skimwings skim the surface with effortless precision, diving down to snatch their morning meal from the depths below.

A tiny boat gently rocked on the calm waters, a humble vessel crafted with meticulous care and reverence for the ocean it traversed. Hewn from sturdy wood, its slender frame bore the marks of countless journeys, each scar and knot telling a story of resilience and adventure. At first glance, the boat seemed almost fragile, its size dwarfed by the vast expanse of the ocean. Yet, upon closer inspection, its construction revealed a remarkable craftsmanship, with every plank carefully fitted together to form a seamless hull that glided effortlessly through the water. Adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant colours, the boat bore the unmistakable symbols of metakayina heritage. Patterns of swirling waves and graceful sea creatures adorned its sides, painted in hues of rich blues and greens that mirrored the colours of the ocean itself. Feathers and shells, woven into the boat's structure, whispered tales of ancient traditions and sacred rituals passed down through generations. Though small in size, the boat was well-equipped for its journey. A single mast rose proudly from its centre, supporting a simple sail, billowing gently in the ocean breeze. A rudder carved from polished wood guided the boat's course at the stern, its smooth contours fitting snugly in the hands of the skilled navigator who manned the vessel. The salty breeze brushed gently against her face, brushing away the tiny curls that had let loose from her thick updo. Her large pearlescent eyes observed her familiar surroundings as she absorbed in the tranquil atmosphere, her ears twitching at every sound. She crossed the reef to reach back to her home tribe and started giggling at being splashed from the dark shadow that trailed under her boat. She knew it was quite early and nobody would be awake before the next hour, apart from two. She parked her boat in the sand and collected all her belongings and valuables from the small storage below the mast and made her way to the largest maruai in the village. Her feet trudged along the sandy shores, joy emanating from being able to walk on land after weeks of arduous journey in the caring yet unforgiving seas.

The pregnant tsahik sat by the fire pit of her home, crushing dry leaves into a fine powder using a pestle and mortar. She was surrounded by bowls of pastes and medical herbs, some colourful, some dark, some pungent, some wet. In front of her, a small fire roared with a hanging pot of boiling water infused with leaves and flowers, the same drink she consumed every morning without fail. Feeling a presence nearby, the tsahik looked towards the entrance and instantly dropped the pestle, which clunked across the wooden floors rolling away from her. The sound alerted her mate, who rushed to her aid immediately, worried about his pregnant wife. His gaze followed his wife's as his eyes widened at the site. There at the entrance stood his eldest daughter in all her glory. There were small tears in her skirt from the fallen leaves, multiple tiny scars scattered along her body and her hands were heavily calloused from navigating her sails. She had lost a few pounds of weight, however the sea life had definitely helped in defining her muscles. Her hair, unwashed and dirty with sand and sea salt, was tied in a large tight bun with small curls stuck to her face. Her face was slightly sunken with visible eyebags, yet she had never looked so radiant. Dropping her luggage by the gate, she entered the house cautiously, nervous about making a sound. She looked straight into her parents' eyes, who were dumbstruck at her arrival, and announced "I'm home..."