Nobody believed the girl. Even after they'd clothed her and calmed her down enough to speak in complete sentences, nothing she'd said made any sense.
The villagers had seen their fair share of otherworldly things – living at the foot of Mount Targon made this an inevitability – but the child's story didn't add up.
She'd described some sort of otherworldly humanoid who had risen from the sea that bordered their village. It sounded like a wanderer: one of the lost, confused celestial creatures who sometimes ventured from Targon's summit. No one had ever heard of a celestial appearing from the ocean, though. More likely, the young girl was playing games.
But when a woman with crimson eyes swam into their village, held aloft by a pool of water that ebbed and flowed at her command, the villagers realized it was no game.
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"Hello," the stranger said. "I am Nami. I am a Marai, a creature of the blue. I mean you no harm."
The villagers stared at her, mouths agape. Perhaps they were taken aback by her appearance. That would make sense, considering how unusual they looked to Nami's eyes: flesh without scales and two backward arms where fins ought to be.
Though they weren't much in the way of conversation, Nami did have their attention.
"I seek the Aspect of the Moon, for the Aspect has something my people require. Without it, they, and possibly all the world, will succumb to a hungry and merciless darkness."
The villagers continued to stare at Nami, slack-jawed and mute. Only a sleepy, four-legged beast went unfazed by the appearance of the mermadic creature in the village, as it carried on pulling mouthfuls of dried grass from a wheeled cart and smacking its slobbery gums.
Nami stood in the silence, tapping her staff awkwardly.
"So, if anybody knows where the Aspect is, that would be, erm." She sniffed, eager to create any noise to break the endless hush that had fallen over the crowd. "Most helpful. To me."
It was as if the villagers had been frozen in place it was so quiet. Nami looked around the village and saw small, fluttering lights all around. Anchored to small pillars of wax or large, wooden sticks, the lights indeed seemed to be alive, but not sentient. They fluttered in the breeze and crackled with energy.
"What do you call that?" Nami asked, pointing at the light. "It's lovely."
An old man in golden robes stepped forward – the people of the oversky insisted on covering themselves, for reasons Nami couldn't immediately understand – flanked by two sentinels. From the many layers of draped fabric, Nami deduced he must be some type of elder. Or perhaps he was just cold.
"You seek the moon?" he asked. "Is she your friend, or your foe?"
Nami narrowed her eyes. The man's lip quivered with silent rage. The moon's Aspect was clearly important to him – but in what way? Did he worship and wish to protect it, or did he consider it an enemy?
