21. Alistair
Once I belonged to the land. I belonged to the humans.
That life feels distant. The colors and sounds of it. The noise. The feeling of belonging. Of having companionship. The sensation of having strong legs. Of walking.
I miss walking.
It feels… felt …purpose…ful. Purposeful.
To place my feet against the ground and walk somewhere.
So much of my life now is… un purposeful.
I move, because the waters and my body don’t allow stillness. But I am never going anywhere. I can’t.
I miss walking. And I’ve forgotten how much I’ve missed it. But the image haunts me today: the place I lived on the land. A place far from the waters. Where the orb in the sky…
Sun.
That’s its word.
The sun.
Where the sun is seen—it shines. And I feel its light warming my back.
That sun does not shine here. Not over these waters or the land.
I miss that too. The sun.
There are the tastes on land…food. So much food. I see some of it still, in the hands of the humans I am called to amuse. Burgers. Sand…werches-witches- sandwiches .
Chips.
They are my favorite.
Chips.
In my old life, I ate them until my belly hurt.
Now, food is given to me at the start of the daylight hours and the end. I am given creatures of the water, the food this body needs. But it’s not the food I want.
Nothing here is what I want.
I want my legs, the sun, the food… everything .
But instead, I swim. Forcefully twisting my body through the waters until I hurt. I hope the hurt will hide the want, but it doesn’t.
The other creatures flee, frightened by my strange movements.
I want to call to them. I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry.
“What are you sorry for?”
Pippi’s voice.
I miss her.
I shouldn’t . She belongs to a land far from here, a place where she has friends and work and wineries and a house —all the things she speaks of to me. Things that sound…
Lovely.
Like her, the way she looks in her red shirt, with her red hair. Lovely.
Those lovely things are hurting me now.
I still, allowing the waters to strike and pull at my body as I look to the surface, wanting to be there.
To feel land beneath my feet, the sun on my skin.
To open my mouth and speak . To find words easily.
To walk with Pippi across the land, where she is unafraid, and see the lovely things she speaks of.
To find my own lovely things: friends and homes and love.
I want to live. Instead of exist.
A shadow covers the surface, turning the waters against me.
The rune above my eye is cool. I am not being called to amuse the humans. And this is not the day humans arrive on the land—I know this because of Pippi. Because I know how many tomorrows I have until the shadow carries her away and brings others in her place.
This shadow should not be here today.
It’s wrong.
I swim, following the shadow.
I see the humans staring at me, and my heart turns colder.
I know them?—
The mark on my face burns. A deep, deep, deep hurt that consumes me. Blackens my sight. I cry and pull back. Too close. I am too close to the shadow.
Fleeing to deeper waters takes the hurt away.
But then I see her .
She stares down at me, her eyes hurting me nearly as deeply as the rune.
I know her face.
It haunts me when I dream.
The last face I saw before I became what I am.
The face that screams at me, telling me I’ll never walk the land again.
Onyx.