Through The Valley • Ao'nung

Chapter: 70

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̶̶̶̶  «̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ 　Reality　 ̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶  

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As the first rays of dawn slipped over the cliffs, painting the sky in muted hues of violet and amber, the cool morning breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean, crisp and sharp against her skin. She stirred, eyes flickering open as a dull ache settled into her limbs. The Razorleaf effects had dulled the pain, but the exhaustion and weight of the past days still clung to her like a second skin.

She sat up, wrapping her arms around herself as the memories of the previous day rushed back. The wreck. The fire. The things they had found, and the things they hadn't. A knot formed in her stomach as she thought of what might still be hidden beneath the waves, waiting for them to uncover. The ship was not just a wreck; it was a graveyard of secrets, and she and Ao'nung were not yet done with it.

A soft rustling nearby made her turn her head. Ao'nung stood at the edge of the rocky outcrop, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the ocean met the sky. His silhouette was rigid, his shoulders squared with determination. He had barely spoken the night before, but his presence had been enough. Now, as he turned to her, his sharp eyes met hers, and in that instant, they understood what needed to be done.

"Ready?" His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.

She nodded, pushing herself to her feet despite the stiffness in her muscles.

Ao'nung didn't argue. He simply handed her a small strip of dried meat, which she accepted with a grateful nod, chewing slowly to wake herself up. They needed to be strong for this.

As they made their way down from the cliffs, the morning air bristled with an eerie quiet. The world still felt heavy, as if it, too, was waiting for something to surface from the depths. When they reached the shoreline, their ilu were already there, waiting, their sleek forms glistening in the golden dawn. She ran a hand along the smooth skin of her mount, feeling the familiar connection, the pulse of something ancient and knowing beneath her fingertips.

She took a deep breath. "Let's go."

With a shared glance, they dove into the water, the world around them shifting into a dance of blues and greens. The ocean embraced them, but it was not comforting. Not today. Today, it felt like it was watching.

The wreck loomed ahead, its jagged edges and broken hull still eerily intact beneath the waves. Darkness curled in the spaces they had not yet explored, beckoning them forward with a silent promise of discovery, and danger.

She tightened her grip on her knife. They had come to find answers. But in the depths of the wreckage, what they would uncover might be something else entirely.

At'anau and Ao'nung left the village, slipping into the water before the first rays of light touched the sky. The silence between them was thick, not uncomfortable, but filled with the unspoken weight of why they were returning. Neither of them had voiced the decision aloud, but it was understood. The wreck still held something- answers, ghosts, maybe just an echo of what had been lost. At'anau wasn't even sure if she knew what she was looking for. She trusted once she'd see it, she would know. And it would be enough.

As the ilu swam towards the wreck, it seemed almost closer from the island than before. And without a second thought, or time to have a conversation, the girl slipped off the ilu, regulating her breathing as did the boy, not tearing his eyes off her.

Another deep breath and her head was down, pushing herself off from the belly of the animal. Ao'nung following the girl's pace with his tail working effortlessly. With squinted eyes they looked down at the ruined ship emerging from the shadows like a sunken beast, its metal frame gaping in jagged wounds where fire and water had both ravaged it. The deeper they went, the colder the water became, pressing against them like the weight of memory itself.