Sea God of the Sands: Book One of the Firebird’s Daughter Series (Firebird's Daughter 1)

by Kyrja

  Chapter Two - Aidena

  Aidena watched the man called “The Savior” break into a brisk trot away from the mass of people she was standing with and wondered just where he thought he was going this time. She’d known he wasn’t ready to stop for the night; it was far too early yet for one thing, and she hadn’t felt the rising of the water beneath the sands as she normally did just before he announced a halt to the day’s erratic roaming. There was no doubt he would call the water tonight; too many people were running low and complaining of thirst.

  She’d shadowed the motley group of wanderers for weeks before she’d joined them, figuring there were far too many of them for anyone to know whether she really belonged with one family or clan or not. She’d been right. Several others had joined the “caravan” – as one old man kept insisting everyone call themselves – just as she had; alone or with a few companions. Most everyone she’d met had the same intentions when they’d joined the unorganized mass of people lead by Amphidea’s heir: to stay alive. Water was becoming scarce, even for the most-sensitive of Undia to find. Only a true Diviner – someone who could call the water to themselves – had any hope of being able to remain alive for long, these days, in the heart of Sov’s realm.

  This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be, Aidena wanted desperately to protest to any and all who would listen. People had lived for centuries in the desert without complaint or lack of resources. Nor was it just water that was becoming scarce. Plants, gardens and orchards carefully tended for years and years along established routes and pathways were gone. Animals – whether predator or prey – were almost never seen any more. Even the scurrying insects and snakes usually so common wherever people stopped to gather or rest, seemed to have disappeared. Without magic and ingenuity, Aidena thought the people she was traveling with probably wouldn’t even have nightly fires at this point. The desert had become a killing ground over the past twenty years – ever since Jarles had been born. He was Amphidea’s heir, the mortal who’d been specifically and uniquely created in order to restore the balance between desert and sea, and yet he seemed to be purposefully ignoring the obvious path to the sea shore. Aidena just didn’t understand the man’s motivation. What could he possibly be thinking?

  She’d been patient. She hadn’t approached him, or yet accused him of the fact he only called water when there was no other choice – other than to let people die of thirst. Or was he just playing with them, as his celestial mistress was purported to do? Aidena had never heard a single kind word about the Sea Goddess. Everyone knew she was vile and evil, and loved to strike terror into the hearts of sailors and those who lived by the sea. She’d heard tales of how Amphidea’s unnatural offspring lived in lakes and rivers and called mortals to their deaths, drowning them even as they lulled the humans into peaceful slumber beneath the waves. Some of the tales insisted the sons and daughters of the Sea Goddess were capable of inciting unquenchable lust, driving men and women insane with some kind of song or whistle or flute. She wasn’t sure exactly how the tales went, and she was old enough to understand much of what was told was obviously fiction. Yet, there had to have been at least a grain of truth in some of the stories she’d heard. Often myth turned into legend as time marched forward, but it was also true that some of the legends were based on truth. It was hard to know what to believe these days, when so much that was once routine and taken for granted was no longer necessary, or even possible.

  What Aidena knew without a doubt was that the entire world had changed since this one man had been born. Most Undias had stopped being able to sense the water beneath the sands, or at least had their abilities severely blocked. Young men and women were no longer being sent to the Temple of Life near the western sea as a natural part of their lives, because Amphedia no longer had need of an heir. The prophecy had been fulfilled. There was no reason to send anyone who could feel the water to be mated with a Merlarn. Yet male Undia were still going insane. And Undia were being sought out by desperate tribes, hoping to be able to find water so they might remain in the desert, as they and their families had done for untold generations. She’d heard one or two stories of Undia being caged like animals so they wouldn’t escape, leaving their families without the ability to survive; she shuddered at the thought those tales might be true.

  And there were those who’d given up their way of life by moving to the sea shore, or the even the mountains. None of the Puj’hom or Midbar were pleased with finding themselves suddenly inundated by untold numbers of refugees from the desert. Scores of people unsuited for the climate and culture of lands unfamiliar to them were making a distinct impression on the locals; entire ecosystems were being destroyed by the sheer numbers of people who were now required to share land and resources. Life was becoming impossible for Tuq’deb everywhere.

  And what was the man who was responsible for all these changes doing? He was leading a vast number of people in circles in the desert! He was providing dribbles of water to keep people barely alive, calling the lifesaving liquid that seemed to follow him around under the ground only at the last moment, and keeping them all away from the sea! Was she the only one who noticed they were going nowhere? What was he thinking? What was he doing? And why were these people all following him? If there was some kind of afterlife designed to drive people insane – or punish them for stupidity – then perhaps she’d already died and this was her fate. By Lumas, Aidena thought, she’d had enough! She was going to confront the man and find out just what he was up to. If he didn’t have some kind of reasonable explanation for his behavior, then she was going to leave this ridiculous caravan to nowhere far behind. She’d only come to see the “Savior” for herself. Her own ability to find water hadn’t been impaired or stolen from her by some vengeful Sea Hag, so she could leave any time she wanted to. Maybe she would even take a few people with her – those who were willing to travel to the sea and try to make a new life there.

  Or, maybe not, she thought. She’d been to the sea once, and had felt herself lost. Measured against the vastness of that enormous space filled with unimaginable depths of water, she’d felt insignificant. She’d fled away from the cliff upon which she’d been perched, held erect only by the fact she’d been fortunate enough to emerge from her climb up the mountainous terrain next to a tree of some sort. She’d been able to brace herself against its rough bark and pointed, green needles when she’d felt the vertigo grab her. She’d heard of maidens swooning in silly bedtime stories for children before, but had never imagined herself prone to the weakness. But gazing out upon the long stretch of water as it merged with the horizon, she’d felt her mind begin to collapse in upon itself. Her head felt like it was spinning and she was sure she was going to vomit. If not for her grip on the tree, Aidena was sure she would have fallen to the ground and over the side of the cliff to her death in the surf far, far below.

  She had closed her eyes against the dizziness, willing it to pass, praying her stomach would hold its contents. She’d eaten for the first time in three days that morning and wasn’t sure where her next meal was to come from; she wanted desperately not to vomit, so she held on tightly to the tree. It had seemed like a long time before she could safely let loose her grip enough to slide to the ground. She’d slept there, beside the tree, awakening in the dark of the night to find she was still holding on to its sticky bark. Keeping her back firmly to the sea, and the edge of the cliff, she made her way slowly down the rocky hillside, determined to be as far away as possible from the heaving mass of water she’d seen by the time the sun rose.

  She’d made her way back into the desert after that, avoiding other people as much as possible, though everyone else seemed to be headed the opposite way. Who in their right mind would purposefully go into the desert when everyone knew there was no more water to be found? Well, Aidena knew, she had once been considered quite reasonable, but by the time she’d seen the sea for the first time, those days were long behind her. And so did she violently reject the possibility of st
aying near the sea. And too, did she eschew the possibility of settling with the Midbar of the mountain ranges. There were plenty of Tuq’deb who were finding homes among them, and the many generous streams and rivers found flowing through the rocky terrain. Still, Aidena longed to feel the unshielded heat of Sov, not the milder version of his loving embrace filtering through the towering trees blocking her view and the feel of the sun on her skin. And so she kept putting one foot in front of the other until she had finally found herself back home, in the desert.

  There was no possibility of returning to her own village, of course, given the scene she’d made the last time she’d been there. But she’d heard stories of Amphidea’s heir during her travels, and so she’d taken the necessary steps to find him and his traveling herd of thirsty sheep. She knew she was being unkind in thinking of the men, women and children surrounding Jarles as nothing more than mindless creatures, following where they were led, but it was hard to understand why none of them seemed compelled to seek safety and life elsewhere. Still, having kept mostly to herself, she didn’t know most of their stories, and none of them knew hers. But if the stories she’d heard around the campfires at night were true, and some Undia were being caged, it just might not be so smart to let anybody else know she could still sense the water beneath them. If following this Jarles around wasn’t already bad enough, being forced to do so behind bars would certainly be much, much worse.

  Well, she wasn’t like the rest of these people, she knew, she was responsible for herself. If the rest of them wanted to wander in circles, or squares, or even triangles, it was none of her business. But she had to know just what it was Jarles thought he was up to. She hefted her small bag of belongings further up on her back, cinching the waist strap a little tighter as she started walking again, just becoming aware she’d been standing still, watching Jarles walk away. She shook her head a little, wondering just what she thought she was doing, day dreaming. She was surprised someone hadn’t nudged her, or pushed her out of the way. Jarles was long gone, and she’d been standing there staring after him like … like … she didn’t know what, but it seemed vaguely embarrassing. She felt her cheeks flush with warmth, then felt angry at herself for having felt embarrassed. She had nothing to be ashamed of. So what if she’d been standing there daydreaming? She had important matters on her mind! If the dozens – maybe hundreds, for all she knew – of people riding, walking and shuffling along in this ridiculous “caravan” were lame brained enough to follow a senseless Diviner around in circles for the rest of their lives, then she was certainly entitled to a moment or two of thoughtful contemplation before she went off on her own!

  Determined to make up for the time she’d lost standing there staring after Jarles, she lengthened her stride, bowing her head a little, as if hiding her face from those she walked past. It seemed strangely out of place to be actually walking with a purpose, after all these weeks of shuffling aimlessly day after day. Not wanting to see what reaction she might cause – and worried that these people may be beyond caring – for her gait that was so obviously out of place in the slow-moving line of people, she kept her eyes to the ground, only glancing up briefly as she hurried past, ensuring she didn’t walk into someone else.

  She was going to talk to Jarles to see just what he was up to. She’d been thinking about it for weeks, with the last couple of days’ worth of wanderings to nowhere making her ready to scream. There had to be a reason he was doing whatever it was he was doing; there just had to be! But she’d be damned if she knew what it was. She’d tried to come up with some kind of rationale for his purposefully leading all these people nowhere. She’d seen twenty-two summers come and go, and even she knew Jarles wasn’t taking any established route. She’d lived in the desert all her life, although not like some of the tribes did; she’d grown up in a moderate-sized village, not wandering the dunes and sands throughout the seasons. Other than the last couple of years, she’d always had some kind of bed and roof over her head, along with plenty of brothers and sisters – both blood and foster siblings. Still, she’d gone to markets and to visit other far-flung relatives for many years while growing up. Too, she’d spent several weeks each year camped out with her Aunt Keyho, who’d done her best to ensure Aidena had grown up with a good sense of who Giya and Lumas were, and why it was important to remember them, even while giving homage to Sov.

  Aunt Keyho was her father’s sister. It had been her failure to arrive at her usual time that had finally caused Aidena to leave home in search of her.

  Her parents had protested, of course, but there was little they could do to persuade her to stay. She’d had the necessary equipment, was ably trained in self-defense and would have left home several years earlier if not for the prophecy of the Sea Goddess’ Heir already having been fulfilled. Still, for the first few weeks, she’d stayed on established routes, setting up her small, efficient camp close to those she knew or recognized and generally enjoyed herself. She hadn’t honestly thought there was anything wrong with her aunt; she was more than a little erratic in her habits, and sometimes strange ideas took her a long way away from her intended path. But when Aidena had been searching for two months and still hadn’t heard from Keyho, she began to worry. None of her cousins, or any of the friends of her aunt she could find reported seeing the woman. And there was the fact that each of the villages she stopped in seemed somehow smaller than she remembered them being. Too, there were complaints of wells going dry. Even those that had been fortified by magic, supposedly guaranteed to remain viable by the Goddess of the Seas herself. Aidena began to wonder if she shouldn’t return home, to ensure her own family was still safe and cared for.

  She closed her eyes then, against the pain of the memories of what happened after that, purposefully slowing her breath by inhaling through her nose until she could feel her stomach distending. Slowly exhaling, she felt a shiver of revulsion flow through her, making her lip curl in hatred against those who’d so cruelly changed her life. With an effort, she relaxed the muscles of her face, breathing deeply several times until she was sure she had her emotions under control again. She could feel the pulse in her veins begin to slow as she let go of the shame and anger, distancing herself from the past. She’d done it often enough to know how best to keep the memories from hurting her. The worst part, at this point, was knowing that she’d lost control for the tiniest of moments. But being upset for the loss of control was a part of her anger too, she knew. It was of vital importance she be able to distance herself from the anger, from the hurt, from every emotion associated with the memories of “that” time in her life. It was done and over with, and while she knew it often colored her thoughts and actions, Aidena knew what was most important was the fact she was still alive. Anything more than that was a bonus.

  “Not true,” she heard herself mutter, then rolled her eyes at herself for having spoken her thoughts out loud. She was really going to have to get away from this gods’ cursed caravan before she lost her mind! She shook herself mentally, purposefully redirecting her thoughts. Simply being “alive” would never be enough, she knew, especially if she was going to be doing nothing but rambling throughout the desert for the rest of her life!

  The word “rambling” in her thoughts surprised a genuine smile from her lips; Aidena had first heard the word from an old woman she’d met once at a marketplace in a village not far from her own home when she’d been quite young. The woman had been good-naturedly complaining about the fact that the “desert rats,” as she called the nomadic people of the clans and tribes and families who never settled in one place, had failed to bring her anything of worth in the past season’s trading. She had smirked at Aidena then, asking if she thought she would be doing any rambling when she grew up.

  When Aidena asked the old woman what rambling was, she had laughed out loud, showing all of her startlingly-white teeth, and said, “Rambling is wandering with less purpose!” At the time, the young Aidena had only smiled politely because she’d thought it
was the right thing to do, even though she’d been at a loss to understand why the woman had thought it was so funny. In return for her unthinking courtesy, the woman had winked at her and given her a honey treat she’d had tucked away.

  The memory was a fond one, but Aidena had much better idea of exactly what rambling was now. Unfortunately. When she’d caught up with the caravan of Amphidea’s heir, he’d been headed West, towards the mountains and ultimately, the sea. He’d followed the same general heading for about two months, but now he was headed southeast, as if he intended to eventually take his ragtag caravan back the way they’d come. Maybe he didn’t feel as though he had any choice. Aidena had considered that possibility. With so many people following him for the simple fact he provided them with water, it was possible they really didn’t care where they were going, as long as their savior kept them all alive. Still, there had to be some other answer to what he was doing; albeit one she simply didn’t understand.