The dark sea

[Thalia]

Mara tugged at her, and Nimeda unravelled happily into the shimmer and shift of travel. When her eyes returned, rippling sand unfurled for miles, a ceaseless undulation as tireless as the river she had come from. It scorched the soles of her bare feet until she forgot to notice, shifting and sliding and laughing as her balance wavered and sunk. Wet sand was a hindrance she imagined away, dress bone-dry and hair dried in frizzy ringlets.

"Yes. In the in-between place glitter a thousand thousand stars. Most wander here unknowing, like shadows. Poof! And gone. Fewer understand to whence they come. Those ones are more interesting to speak to. Like Jon and Calvin. But I doubt you will find anyone in the desert!"
She wandered as she spoke, arms outstretched, feet kicking at the shifting sand so that it swirled and eddied. When she spun, it roused and danced with her.

"But Mara! None."
She paused joyously, the dusky haze going still at her dusty feet, and held up a finger, grinning. "None are like us. We belong here."


She plopped herself down a moment, sandy hands on her knees, to accept the sending. Darkness spilled in Mara's lap, sucking in all the light and colour. She saw, not a creature, but a yawning pit, unending blackness. It poked at the holes in her memories, and curiosity peeked before fear as the thing blinked at her. The amusement of something new tilted her head. Or new at least for this life. Her gaze blinked back to the girl's face.

"You are old. Like me,"
she asserted confidently. Something tugged restlessly at the memories churning like tides underneath. A name, maybe, or an intrinsic understanding, the same way she'd acknowledged the wolves. A cage of rules crossed shadowy bars over her thoughts. She had a sense of someone's displeasure; the first inkling that this had once been a friendship fettered with secrecy. The thought never completed, and Nimeda shrugged. "We can find some others, if you want?"