Tideline

Chapter Two

I managed to reach my observatory as the storm hit. Lightning lashed the sky and left n'enānelásh(ii) ̌l behind, like glowing scars across the dark clouds. The rain had started to fall heavily, and I couldn't help but worry. It was the beginning of Kâliiel, the Sun Season, not Kâlain the Storm Season. I would expect such rain during Kâlain but to have it now was more than unusual, it was unsettling. Thunder rolled across the sky and vibrated through my bones; a heavy, ominous song that chilled my blood. Maybe it was a rogue storm, some random weaving of weather had resulted in this strange occurrence. But I couldn't help but think that this storm, coupled with the recent seaquakes, heralded something darker.

Luckily the observatory was built high up in the branches of a hanái. I'hanái were massive and solid; with rocky silver trunks growing strong and tall, rising from the ocean floor to pierce the waves with their spreading branches and ribbon-like violet leaves. My people had once believed that the i'hanái were the fingers of Llóshac, the Tide Mother, as she held the waters of our world in her hands. It was a pretty story; I had always liked the part where the stars were supposed to be her eyes watching over us.

The observatory was built high enough in this hanái so that even when the tide was at its highest, the observatory was still clear of the waves. The strange alien with its twisted double tail would be safe here. There was added security in that I was the only one who came here. I had no illusions how the rest of my people would react to the appearance of an alien, another alien. It was clear that it was not one of the Burning Ones, that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. And my mother...my stomach twisted uneasily as I thought about how she would react.

I could see a message from her blinking on my bíia. The small communicator wrapped around my wrist was flashing frantically. My observatory had just enough water for me to swim around without needing a rider, like many of the buildings of my people, but there was still some dry areas and I found a flat surface above the waterline to place the alien. I couldn't be sure that the alien was like me, able to breathe both beneath the waves and above, and given the lack of fins I had to assume this was a dry land creature. There were creatures on my world, such as birds, who could only breathe air and would die if they inhaled water. It seemed possible that the alien was like them, certainly its strange split tail looked like the t(ii) ̂klēss that birds had.

Once I had the alien situated, I activated my mother's message. "Áuliiel, I told you I don't like you being out during a storm." My mother sounded frantic and I could feel the Ak(ae) ̌ffa of her voice affecting me. "The agreement was you could have that observatory all to yourself as long as you are responsible about it. Staying out during a storm like this isn't responsible. You need to message me back as soon as possible, Áuliiela."

I groaned. My mother still treated me like a child, after all this time. I was an adult or would be when I got my Klādaffes. Still she insisted on treating me like a child and calling me one. Áuliiela, Little Sunbird. None of my brothers called me that, they knew better. And I had a sneaking suspicion that even after I got my Song Name my mother would still call me that.

I left my mother a brief message that I was safe in my observatory and would come home after the storm, then swam back to the alien. It was starting to stir, moving slowly and moaning softly. My heart leapt into my throat, nearly choking me. No, not yet, I needed the alien to stay asleep for now. Quickly I moved closer, close enough that I could see the eyes opening. The eyes were smaller than mine, but still very similar. They were beautiful, a deep brown with streaks of lighter, golden brown that reminded me of very few pieces of dry land on my world. Fitting for a dry land creature.

The alien stared into my eyes as I opened my mouth and began to sing.

I wasn't sure that the Ak(ae) ̌ffa would work on it. Ak(ae) ̌ffa had worked on the N'aín Lu'thān, until they had found a way to counter it, so perhaps it would work on this alien as well. I could feel the Ak(ae) ̌ffa forming within the dual parts of my swêl, created by the two tones that my throat naturally produced. Biinêl create the words, biinswêlll gave the words the melody and frequencies that combined into Ak(ae) ̌ffa. With Ak(ae) ̌ffa one could manipulate the frequencies of the mind, altering emotions and mood.