Yoite
Black Falcon
The ocean was no longer at peace. The shoreside village had never disrespected the sea, being diligent in their festivals and offerings to appease their main source of food and income. They did so lovingly, for the ocean had given them bounty after bounty. They made sure to never take more than what was graciously given, offering thanks and praise for the generosity of the sea.
They protected their shores as well, not letting foreigners that traveled to their little hamlet, away from the hustle and bustle of outside the islands sully the froth and foam. They were penalized if they took shells or seaweed from the sand, forced to give up what was not given to them.
“But it was on the ground!” Some would argue.
“But it is not for you.” Villagers would rebuke kindly, letting their knives and spearheads be the reminders one needed to see.
Many liked to come for the Festival of Feathers, a time when the large Northern Gannets would leave their nests and head out to sea. It was allowed for anyone, villager or foreigner, to hold up their hands. If a feather fell into their open palms, they could keep it. It was good luck, a charm of safe passage for the sea. Sailors from Aetochi were often fond of these feathers, paying high prices for them.
The village by the sea, that swore in their folklore they had come from the sea, made sure to never upset it. They treated everything in the ocean with the reverence fit for a king, they treated the ocean as a god or spirit that must be nurtured like a good marriage. They thought their dependence on the sea was natural, they thought the waves could deliver messages, could warn them of ill omens.
So when the bodies came from the sea, the villagers didn’t know what to do. At first they pitied the floating bodies, assuming a ship had been wrecked from a storm. The waves had been unruly as of late, for months they had been unsettling the village. When they pulled one bloated body from the waters, as was custom for they were tasked with keeping the water clean of any foul play whether it was natural or not, they were shocked by the deformities. A human without legs but a tail, black and hollow, filled only with crustaceans and jellies in their salt-water bloated frames.
“Mermaids,” a traveler said. “Maybe a siren. Nothing to worry about, sometimes sailors end up invoking a fate worse than death.” So the villagers didn’t worry. Sometimes sailors deserved it, especially if they liked to play with the weather.
Then IT came when a painter was there. The painter died not long after, but the paintings existed and were spread around. There was something in the sea, and IT was coming. The villagers didn’t know what to do. They sent off four young girls and four young boys with gifts of silver seashell combs and other seaside treasures in long boat, but still the thing came closer. What would happen when it reached the shore?
The better question to ask: why was it coming to the shore?
"Now that's a bad omen," The old man stated the obvious, scratching the back of his head as he watched the shadows stare back at him from the shore. Such a shame their souls couldn't move on, but they stayed waist deep in the waters that were eerily calm. IT was also waist-deep, it's mouth agape, close enough now that people could make the cracks in its gray teeth. It had gotten caught in a large net that looked made to catch whales instead of fish. Covered in barnacles and coral, something told Yoite that this thing should have remained at the bottom of the sea. Whatever had woken it up from its slumber was now causing him quite the headache.
"I didn't ask you here so you can state the obvious," The young man hissed, instead of hair he had white feathers adorning around his head. He gave the old man the sort of look every child gave to their parents when they thought they couldn't possibly understand. This time, however, Yoite didn't understand why this was happening or what to do. He shrugged his broad shoulders as the Fairy Stern of the Feather Clan continued to pout and cross his skinny arms over his chest.
"No, you didn't. You asked me to help," Yoite yawned, pivoting on his heel. "And help I will, Inapo. We have three days before it comes to shore. No more boats with kids have gone out to sea, right?" His comrade shook his head, a flush of red on his cheeks. Yoite looked up to the sky, seeing few clouds. It was otherwise great weather to go fishing, if not for that monster waiting for them. It didn't seem to be in a hurry to get to the seaside village, but any boat that came near it would be attacked, and anyone inside was swallowed whole. Yoite couldn't blame the village for its offering. Most raakgui would be pleased by it.
But this thing was no normal spirit. And those lost shadows, only able to be seen by shamans or those with the sight, couldn't move on. Was there something in the water, or something in the village?
"Something smells fishy," Yoite murmured.
"Be serious already!" Inapo seethed, kicking Yoite in the back of his knee. Like a ghost, Yoite was at Inapo's side despite being in front of him. He clapped a large hand onto the bony shoulder, steadying the young shaman into the gray sand. He could feel the heartbeat, the hot blood coursing through Inapo's veins. Women wearing short but thick robes were walking towards the shore, sewn into the back of their gray robes was a bright blue dragon. They carried their weapons openly, but something about their gait suggested there were weapons where the eye couldn't see. They passed the shamans without a second glance.
"Calm down, the Yenizu are here after all," both the men had been hushed without a word., not daring to say anything louder than a whisper Neither of them held a contract with the Yenizu family, that had been hoarded by another member of their clan, one who was surely advising Intendant Yenizu far away from this seaside town. They might have been overstepping, but when an opportunity presented itself then they'd have been fools not to take it.
In absolute silence, they watched the group of women take out small pouches from inside their robes. They began to throw pearls of every shape, size and color into the seafoam, chanting a prayer to Yenkai, the azure dragon. The waves rolled the pearls deep into its dark blue waters but there was no change in the weather, no change in the patterns of the ocean, and no sign of IT stopping it's pursuit to come to land.
