The Black Sun

Chapter Two

          The only thing she can see is blue.

Green, white and yellow. Mellow and calm colors, hues of life that kindle the hearth of the world. The ocean is everywhere and in everyone, and the concept hasn't fully been understood by Senna until she stood to it's face.

The vague outline of the coastal ridges and seaside cliffs of Mauitoto were etched on the skyline, dark and ominous. If she were anyone else, she'd have the overwhelming urge to row back to where it's safe, comfortable and busy. But she isn't anyone else, she is Senna and she prefers the hum of silence, the song of the fish and the sea. They were kinder to her than most.

But nevermind her social inhibitions, she thought, as she peered over the side of the canoe. In spite of the incessant water, that stretched miles upon miles with crystal-clear currents and a reef bursting with color, there were no fish. 

She rowed and rowed, until the sides of her arms and her biceps grew heavy and tiresome and she was sore in every part of her body. Her muscles ached and screamed for her to stop, but she did not and the tissues in her arms tightening until they burned with a white-hot fire and Senna clenched her teeth against eachother and grunted until the fire burned cold upon the firewood and the ashen rocks.

It seemed like the reef heard her, felt her and was her. Because as the canoe sailed and drifted with the soft currents, the once-colorful reefs bursting with shades of purple, pink and green turned to an unnerving white. 

It was like a disease; a sickness that had no cure and no palm oil could subside. But there were no fish here either.

There was a line between being heroic and being idiotic. And it was knowing when to forfeit, when there was no hope and no faith to be given for it'll be wasted and Senna drew up her lines, her nets and her rods. She threw them under a barrel beside her sailor's seat and tucked her harpoon under it too. 

She brushed a strand of wild, brown hair behind her ear and closed her eyes. She could hear it: the waves crashing under the water, the coral and the anemone screaming, the burdening weight of the birds and her eyes flew open and her stupor ended with a voice in her head telling her something was wrong.

She barely had the time to lift her oar when the giant wave, a large blue mass of seaweed and water, billowed over her head like a large cloud before it descended in a sound like falling thunder. Senna hadn't time to save herself before the water collided with her and only then did she respect the strength of the sea. It shoved her farther and farther downwards to the white reefs, until her vision was a blur of light and darkness. 

She felt the hardness of the canoe bark slam against her skull, the sound ringing and compressing her brain like a vise. Her eyelids began to feel heavy and the red water was circling her like a halo before her eyes shut and she was lost forever . . . 

She woke up with a fluttering gasp, water spilling out from her mouth like cobblestone fountain and her chest ached with the pain of a thousand arrows. Her dark hair was matted against her forehead and her shoulders, stained with sand as she laid on the ground. The sun bounced off of the people's heads, who were looking down at her with faces of disappointment and disdain. 

"Senna," the strong, old voice of a village elder rang louder than the hushed whispers of the crowd. "The Council of Aopo await your presence in the holy church of the highest hill. There, we will determine your fate and the punishments you will suffer. You should not have gone to sea." 

There was no remorse in his voice, but there wasn't in Senna's either.

"For a council," she stood, leaning on one knee, "you always give the worst advice." 

Then, the people departed for her like a sea, and she strode from the sight of the villagers, dressed in rags and a harpoon held tight in her hand. The soft wind of the skies blew her hair behind her and her eyes were a blasting volcano of magma and fire. The children withdrew to their homes and the women hid behind closed doors as the heathen walked past, but she held her head high and far above the clouds, the Gods looked back.