a fish

The Rito awoke to the soft rolling of waves against the shore and the lapping of water on the lower half of her body. As she opened her eyes to the bright sunlight of the day, she looked around. There wasn’t much more to the strangely triangle-shaped island than a field of grass and a few saplings, and a curious red statue, of a woman. Lying all around her were beige feathers and the scraps of what was probably once her clothing. A spear stuck in the sand nearby, with a leather messenger bag caught on it, which she recognized as her own. Where was she? What had happened?

She sat up and stared out into the horizon. In the fog of distance, piercing the sky, she could see the cone of the volcano they called Dragon Roost. As she gazed upon it, her brain began to wake up again and she began to remember.

She was the daughter of the chief mail-bird, and it was expected of her to join him in running the mail system for the Great Sea one day. But she didn’t want to do that. When she would sit by the shore, the ocean would call to her like the lullaby of a mother. It was familiar, somehow, and she wished to know what lay beneath it. Just what else was down there, if hunters constantly dredged up treasure? But the elders all told her it was her destiny to lead the mail service.

She was a talented spearwoman as far as she was aware. She had been commended on it before. But it angered her that despite all her protests, on her twelfth birthday she was handed little more than a messenger bag and a mail-woman’s badge. She was grateful for the bag, certainly, but she had no love for the badge. It was a mark of what she detested.

She wanted to explore. It’s too dangerous, they insisted, Rito are not meant to swim. She evaded the ceremony where she was supposed to receive her scale from Valoo for months upon months, until finally a group of elders had to drag her up the mountain to accept her supposed fate.

But fate refused.

When she approached the great dragon, at the top of the long staircase, she was alone all except for the elders blocking the stairs so she couldn’t escape. “Great Valoo,” she asked, “why must I become a mail-woman? Why is it my destiny? Why can’t I go to the sea instead? Become a treasure hunter, learn what really is down below?”

Much to her surprise, after a moment of looking toward the sky, the dragon seemed to chuckle, and spoke to her in a language she had only ever heard from him. She didn’t understand a word he had said, but he nodded out toward the great expanse of sea to the south, as if urging her to go, to follow her destiny. And she looked down, past the southern cliff, into the ocean. It was a long way down.

But Valoo himself had told her to go. If the elders wouldn’t listen to him, there was no one they would reason with.

And so she jumped. And now here she sat, on the shores of a backwoods nowhere-island.

She was a long way from home.

“Well, Kaimana, you’ve really done it this time.” She grumbled to herself. “They must think I’m dead by now. After all,” she took on a mocking tone, “Rito are not meant to swim. They only fly. And deliver mail, over, and over, and over, to a bunch of humans who take all that work for granted. I could be notable if I were a sailor. A great explorer and treasure hunter. Then again… I guess I’m here now, aren’t I? Heh… at least my bag and my spear survived.”

She rose to her feet, and reached out for the supplies in question. However, as she looked upon her arms, she froze. Gone, were the tawny feathers that would otherwise have one day spread into wings, replaced entirely by glimmering crimson scales and long fins that admittedly looked very similar to feathers in their own right. They faded from red, to emerald green, to noble gold.

Slowly, she looked down at herself. The only bit of her clothes that had survived was her Gyorg-tooth necklace, which she still wore around her neck. That was apparently the only part of her old self that had survived, too, because rather than the taupe, downy skin she was used to, she was coated head to toe in brilliant ruby and white scales that reflected with iridescence in the sunlight. Along her torso, the deep cuts and marks that could only indicate gills. And emblazoned on her chest, curiously, a red marking that looked somewhat like a V, with a diamond in the middle.

“What in the name of Valoo…?”

Now she hurried over to her bag, and rummaged through it, huffing a sigh of relief when the contents were dry and safe. From within, she pulled out two things: a sea chart she had stolen from the mail stores, and a small mirror.

First, she checked the sea chart. As far as she knew, this was definitely not Fire Island, so she must be further south of that. But further south of that, as far as she could tell from her chart, was nothing. Some of those spire islands, and one of the dice reefs, but nothing like this. Considering she could still see Dragon Roost, she must not be far past Fire Island, she figured, so she marked her sea chart with a small triangle in the square just underneath it.

After that, she checked the mirror. What a strange, strange thing she saw reflected back at her. Her beak-like nose was completely gone, and instead what was there now was a point that stretched over her head and extended into a long extremity largely like a fish tail, dotted with light patches. And her eyes, though they remained the same color, were slitted like a monster’s. But she didn’t feel like a monster. She felt like herself.

She felt more like herself than she ever had before.

Scanning the beach again, she finally took real mental note of the feathers along the shore. These must be hers, then. The last vestiges of her former look as a Rito. Also from her messenger bag, she now took out a length of thick, sturdy string and a few beads, and quickly weaved a few of the feathers and the beads into a small, dangling decoration. She then tied it to her spear, and placed a handful more of the feathers into the bag.

After that, though, she sighed. “Well, I guess I can’t go back now. They’ll probably think I’m some kind of monster. And if they don’t try to stab me to death, they’ll just make me take the scale and go back to mail delivery. I guess this is home now. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe I’ll build my own society here. On this… tiny… itty bitty island.”

There was a pause.

“I’m doomed. But I guess it isn’t all bad? I can learn how to swim. I… I have gills now. I could go down there...” She stared out at the water. “...Baby steps. One thing before another. First, I need to get myself set up here. Need to… who am I kidding. I can’t cut down these saplings with a spear. So I guess shelter is out, for now. How long until the Kangarocs start circling overhead, I wonder. Maybe it’s best to… not baby steps. Maybe I should just go for it. Even Valoo seemed to think I should just jump into the sea… I’m gonna do it. Here I go. Right now.”

She set one foot into the water.

“That’s good! Great! Okay! Now I just gotta. Gotta do that again. Good! And again! Once more. And we just keep doing this. Until! We’re at the bottom! Of the ocean! Yeah! Yeah… I’m… floating. Okay. This is fine! You’ve seen humans do this before. Just start pushing water with your hands. Yeah.”

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for her, her fins began to do the work for her, and as she pushed ahead, she jettisoned out away from the island. Figuring after a moment of surprise that she would just go with it, she repeated the process, taking a few laps around the island before looking out onto the sea again.

This was good.

If she could do it above water, she could do it underwater, right?

Without thinking too much about it, she took a breath and dove under. The water offered surprisingly little resistance to her in this form, flowing smoothly over her scales. It was strange, but she didn’t seem to need to breathe. Instead, she felt the water begin to push through the gills at her side, and felt it do the same along her neck. What a strange feeling it was.

The deeper she dove, the darker it became, until as if automatically, the spots along her head and body began to light up, casting the water around her in a fiery red color. The marking on her chest, especially, seemed to get brighter the further she swam. It was as if she didn’t even have to think about it. This came to her strangely naturally. How odd.

And soon, something strange came into view.

Buildings of all sorts, littered about a landscape that looked almost like it had been kept pristine for eons before one day someone just decided to replace the air with water. A magnificent castle at its center, and a dark-looking tower not far off from there. There were strange figures atop the tower, which piqued Kaimana’s curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say, and hopefully satisfaction would bring her back.

So she approached, and the marking on her chest grew brighter still. And when she got there, what she found surprised her.

At the top of the tower, there stood two stone statues. One, a set of three triangles, the likes of which felt oddly familiar in a way she couldn’t explain. Below it, lay what may have been the dead body of an old nobleman. Not that she cared much for the human nobles. Worthless mail system-abusing bourgeoisie. He could rot down here, for all she gave a damn. No funeral for the rich.

The second one seemed much more interesting to her fleeting attentions. It was, curiously, man-shaped, and out of the ‘head’, was sticking a white, shining blade.

A sword! Perfect! If Kaimana took that, maybe she could cut down the saplings on the island and actually make herself a home! And if she had a home, she could have a place to put her treasures next time she came down here! But it looked stuck fast, and the statue it was attached to sure was interesting. Maybe all the mailbag hefting could come in handy…

Not being familiar with the way physics worked underwater, she was surprised at how light the statue actually was when she lifted it up. And so, up she went, the light coming from her body guiding the way. It was strange. In her chest, she could feel it. She could sense that she was going the right way. Back to her small triangle island.

Her arms were tired by the time she broke surface, and as the statue came up with her, it became impossibly heavy. She was forced to resort to shoving it ashore, and was left limp and exhausted at the end of it all. Once it was on land, she flopped over, and fell right asleep.

And even then, her dreams were plagued by a strange voice. A woman’s voice, like fire and stone. Take the sword, she said to her. Take it, pull it free, and restore balance to the world. She saw flashes of the strange red statue on the island. It held to the sky what she recognized as Prince Komali’s former prized possession, the strange artifact called Din’s Pearl. She didn’t know why it was called that, but there it was.

When she woke up again, it was nightfall. Everything was as she had left it, and her island was cast in a warm, fire-like glow from the red statue. She hadn’t even stopped to take a look at it, she realized. Sure enough, it did in fact hold Din’s Pearl to the sky, like a beacon. How strange.

She couldn’t help but remember the voice. Take the sword. Restore balance to the world. Take the sword. Take the sword…

The blade, at her touch, fell out of the statue’s head very easily. At first, everything seemed normal. She had a sword, there was a statue. Now she could get to cutting these saplings and building a hut! And a raft!

But as she got to work cutting them down, she failed to notice the statue tremble and begin to crack, its stone pealing away in chunks and pieces, revealing the dark skin underneath...