After the Tide

Prologue - AT 2781 - Mako

There's no beginning. I don't like the beginnings of stories anyway. Or the end. The middle is always the best bit, where there's any happiness or peace.
"Once there was earth. Vast, rocks, that rose out of the ocean. There were trees. And mountains. And people lived in great cities. Beautiful cities built from the rock and stone that was the earth. And all the oceans were held back, in ice. Now the tides sweep in, growing higher and higher. As storms out over the open ocean threaten to sweep us off of what's left of dry land. What was once called mountain tops," my mother whispers, putting a hand through my hair as I huddle in her arms. I'm cold. I'm always cold. I shiver, curling against her coat..
"I don't want this story," I whisper.
"You have to remember. If people forget, if you forget where we came from. You won't know where to go," she says, kissing my forehead, "My mother told me, she was told by her father. Who was told by his grandmother. What happened after the water started to rise?"
"People fled to the mountains, and the ice," I whisper.
"Yes. Ships, and hiding spots way up high like this, are the only safe place anymore. Because as the water began to rise. The monsters began to come," she says, looking up. There's the sound of footsteps outside, "So people, like our family, banded together. We fought the monsters, to keep our ships safe, to fish, to trade supplies, and to protect other ships. My father, your grandfather, died fighting the monsters."
"But we didn't win," I whisper.
"No. There were those men who thought they could control the power of the monsters. Harness it. Use it to make themselves more powerful. But you cannot tame evil. They grew evil themselves. By their bond with the monsters, they became monsters too," she says.
"They're coming again?" I ask, as the door shakes. The wind is howling.
"Not tonight. It's another storm," she says, "Hold tight to me now. It'll be all right."
"I'm scared," I whisper, laying my head against her arm.
"Shh, I know. But no matter what happens. You'll always be my perfect boy," she says, an arm wrapped tight around me.
I nestle against her as the wind howls outside the hut. The drift wood we used to secure the door is rattling, soon it'll give way. But we'll get no sleep.
The alarms begin to sound. I hear bells and shouts. That's not the call for a storm.
"Monsters?" I ask, sitting up.
"Yes. Stay here, and stay quiet. No matter what happens. Never let anyone know who you are. I am a warrior. And they would kill you," she says, standing. Her spear is lying by us, and she picks up her dagger. From around her neck, almost as an afterthought, she takes her sea glass pendant. Cold blue glass smoothed by the sea, carefully wrapped in leather strands. She hangs it over my neck.
"This was your grandfather's. It will keep you safe."
I clutch the cool glass in my hand, fiercely. I can nearly hear it singing of the ocean.
"Stay here, don't move," she says, fixing my shirt, "Don't let anyone touch you."
I nod my head. She kisses my forehead once, then goes.
"I love you, mama," I whisper. I don't think she hears me.
She leaves, bolting the door behind her, firmly.
I can still hear the wind whipping. Then I hear the screams beginning. It turns from shouts, to cries of fear. To screaming.
The monsters are coming.
I don't hear my mother's screaming. But the wind is also terribly loud. The roof is shaking from it. But I don't move. She said not to move. And I'm scared of the monsters.
There's more screaming from outside. And I can hear the waves crashing. Closer and closer. Everyone in our village must be out there, for there to be that much screaming.
I hear the roof crash just before the first debris hits me. I cover my head but it does little good. Something strikes my face and I fully black out.
I come to to hands tugging me from the rubble. Rough unfamiliar hands. I jerk away, blinking sunlight from my eyes.
It's morning.
And the village is full of strangers. Pale skin that's reddened from the sun, bearing harpoons and other awful weapons. They're in rough coats and things,, no fur or leather. This is the invaders that come with the monsters. That much I know.
"Here, go find who you belong to—got another one," the man who pulled me out is unperturbed. He doesn't even look at me.
I back away, shaking in fear. I understand the words but their voices are harsh and unfamiliar.
"Captives are over there, go find your dad or whoever," one of them urges, not nicely but ready to be rid of me.
The village is rubble, and it's swarming with the strange men. He gestured to a group of villagers who are clearly being bound. Gulls cry overhead. And vultures.
"You're feeding them to monsters," I whisper.
"Sea snakes have to eat too boy, now do you want to go die with your folk or no?"
I bolt towards the remaining warriors, searching for my mother's face. She's not there. I could feel her if she were why can't I feel her?
I turn, slowly, to where the bodies are being piled. Ready for the monsters I expect.
Lying by the side of the pile, neatly laid out. Her spear at her side. My mother lays, eyes closed, black hair smeared with blood.
I don't even hear myself scream as I run to her side.
"Mama, mama no—mama please," I whimper, tears choking my throat. I shake her chest. It does nothing. Of course. She sleeps. Dark eyes closed.
"I love you. Say goodbye. Say it," I sob, gripping her arm, "Mama please. Please say it."
No response. She lies there. Cold and still as the rock beneath us. And I know there's no life left in her. I also have no will to move.
I lay down on her chest, sobbing bitterly. They can feed me to the monsters with her. I don't care. I don't know how to do anything but lie here.
"General—you wished to know who came for her? It's only this one," one of the men says.
I look up, tears streaming down my face. I don't know who the General is but I see their reverence as he approaches, a head taller than the others, and unmistakably, evil. Instead of a mirage of scars his skin is flecked with green blue scales, shining the like ocean he's sold his soul to. Sun bleached hair wet and braided from his cruel face. Eyes more like a monster than man, nearly forming slits.
I shrink more into my mother's arms, shaking in fear.
"Is this your mother?" The General kneels, reaching out a hand to touch my mother's.
"Don't touch her," I whisper, my voice shaking.
"How old are you, boy?" He asks, staring at me intently with near lizard like eyes.
"Five," I whisper. I wasn't supposed to talk to anyone.
"Five eh? What's your name?" He asks.
"The others said it's an orphan she took in," another one of the men says.
"Oh I'm sure," the General says, staring at me, "What's your name?"
I say nothing. I'm not supposed to tell anyone my name. I'm not even supposed to talk to anyone.
He reaches out a hand. Two of the fingers are overcome with scales and nearly turned to claws. One, human one, his thumb and forefinger, he touches my cheek with. Calluses, like my mother, from holding a spear. And for a moment the touch is familiar in that. The same marks of war. He traces down my cheek to my chin, still staring at me intently. And for only instant I don't feel fear. The touch was near reverence.
"What is your name?" He repeats.
I say nothing.
He reaches out and begins to undo my shirt. I jerk away instantly, but he catches me with his other hand, solid on my shoulder, holding me firmly in place. I struggle to twist away, but it does no good. He tugs my shirt open,, cold hand slipping easily inside to touch my ribs.
"Look at you," he whispers, gently running his fingers along the gill slits from the base of my ribs up nearly to my throat.
The others gasp and murmur as he tugs the other side of my shirt back to reveal the same. I'm shaking in fear. No one is allowed to see me like this. Tears well in my eyes.
"Look," he moves his hand back to undo his own shirt, reveal an identical row of gills along his ribs, though his are heavily scaled, mine are soft flesh.
I stare a moment, I've never seen another person like me. That's why it's a secret.
"Don't be afraid," he says.
"I don't want to be a monster," I whisper, voice shaking.
"You're perfect," he says, touching my face again, then sliding a hand down to my ribs as though to prove to himself the deformity is there. "We're alike you see."
I shake my head no.
"She never told me—or you it seems. I'm your father," he says.
"My father died at sea," I whisper.
"Perhaps I did," he looks down at my mother then. Something like gentleness in his terrible face. "Have her prepared for burial. In the custom of her people. The boy is my son and he will return with us."
"No I don't want to leave her, no," I shake my head, hard.
"You will," the General rises, "Tell me what did she call you?"
I don't answer. She said not to tell any stranger my name.
He shrugs a little, "Come."
I shake my head no, tears streaming down my face, "I want to stay with her. I'm not supposed to leave."
"She's dead," he says, and there's pain in his voice. And anger. I wither. "Your place is with me now. We are leaving."
I don't move, simply quacking in fear.
"She wouldn't want you to die. We're leaving now, little Mako," he says.
"What did you call me?" I frown.
"It means shark, fitting I think, till you tell me what your mother called you," he says, tipping my head up and then sliding his big hand down my neck, smoothing it over my skin. "Walk now, or they'll carry you."
I don't want to leave her side but I don'T know what to do. I take a step forward, hesitantly. "Where are we going?"" I ask.
"Home. We're going home."