Dao stood at the head of the small dock at the end of the warehouse pier next to Langonne Park. His people had survived much. Much throughout their history, much throughout his life. Their wariness of the Surface Breathers kept them safe. Once called Little Brothers by his people, they had, in Dao’s lifetime, become the enemy. For the first time in Dao’s life, he was unsure how to lead his people, unsure how to keep them safe.
A shadow sat at the dock’s end, a little to the side of where Dao sat when he came to remember his younger days, to remember what he’d learned from his elders, from the Sea Brothers and Sisters, from the Ocean Queen herself.
The shadow turned and waved to him, motioned Dao to join them on the dock’s end.
Dao walked cautiously.
The shadow didn’t carry the scent of water, of his people. Was this someone come early to fish? To catch under the stars?
No, the scent was familiar, known. Something from when Dao was a child.
The shadow carried the scent of stories his grandfather told him.
Dao’s pace quickened. He stood close, too close, closer than was safe with Surface Breathers.
The shadow turned. A face, a Surface Breather’s face. A known face? A face remembered from song.
The Surface Breather sang as Dao’s people sang. Hello, Ocean Brother. I sing your language but not very well. You know mine much better than I know yours. Will you forgive me if my song is weak? I don’t want to sing something I should not.
Dao sat beside the shadow. Who are you? How do you sing? Your people can not sing our songs. Only a few, only –
My grandfather knew a Surface Breather who could sing. He was our friend.
I wish to be your friend, as well.
What are you doing here? Why come to us now?
I need your help. Your people and mine swim dangerous waters. I wish to keep the waters safe. For both our people.
It is too late. The waters already boil.
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