They had been flying forever.
At least that was what it felt like to Alys, who had never been airborne for so long, even on the longest of trips. Although she felt safe and secure in Selendrile's claws, with the translucent clouds whipping by only a few feet beneath her toes, she couldn't help wondering if they were lost. She certainly had no idea where they were, and, guided by the sun, they rarely dipped low enough to see the terrain. Not, Alys thought, that she would be able to recognize the lands they flew over anyway, even if she could see more than the occasional glimpse of a field through the scattered breaks in the soft waves of clouds below her.
Alys wasn't entirely sure where they were going, either, although she did know they had been flying continuously west for quite some time. Selendrile hadn't told her where they were headed either, telling her he wanted to try to give her "a surprise," something humans seemed to enjoy. She hated this, feeling like Selendrile was always in charge, always a step ahead of her, always in control. But she'd gone anyway.
Alys noticed the clouds beginning to thin out, but as she'd expected she could neither recognize the surroundings nor figure out what exactly they were headed for, especially in the quickly fading light. It wasn't until the mountain was right up ahead that she realized they had been both drifting lower and slowing down.
With a soft bump they alighted on a grassy patch on the eastern side of the gently sloping mountain. It was nothing like the mountains back home, craggy and full of rocks. Instead, it had a soft quality to it, although far too high to be called a hill. There was a soft swishing sound on the wind, as well as a strange tangy smell Alys had never encountered. The moon was rising to the east, and in the dappled light she saw a pebbly path that wound its way up and eventually around the mountain. After Selendrile changed to his human form, he grasped her hand in his own, said simply, "This way," and the two began to walk up the path.
It was then Alys spotted some curious birds flying in lazy circles above them, returning to their nests. They were white birds, shining under the waxing moon, and much larger than ordinary songbirds, but making a sound very unlike what she expected for a bird of that size. The only birds she had seen that big were ravens with their eerie caws, or vultures with terrifying shrieks. These birds however, made a sound that brightened her steps. Their squawks sounded happy, almost like they were laughing, like birds accustomed to spending their days swooping and playing in the sunshine.
"Selendrile, do you happen to know what those birds are called?" she asked, staring up, tracing their flight with her eyes.
"Seagulls, I believe," she heard him reply. She lowered her eyes to look at him quizzically- if they were seagulls, then…
But her words stopped short of her lips. As she had taken her eyes off the birds, they had turned a corner on the mountain path and suddenly, right in front of her, was the most mesmerizing thing she had ever seen.
It stretched endless dark blue to the horizon, the sky only the faintest tint lighter where the sun had set not long ago. Only a smattering of clouds remained to block the winking stars, and the moonlight bounced across the gentle waves crashing all along the sandy shore that stretched in both directions, pristine and peaceful.
She had never seen the ocean before.
It was amazing. Never had she seen anything so huge, so immense and overpowering. Standing here, she knew, was to stand at the edge of the world, where the definitions of tomorrow and forever lay, squeezed into that thin blue line where water kissed the sky.
"It's wonderful," she murmured.
Selendrile squeezed her hand gently, and said just as softly, with just as much awe in his voice, "I know."
And suddenly she realized that while she might feel small and insignificant next to this water that felt like a living being, Selendrile, no matter what form he was in, felt exactly the same.
With this knowledge, she turned to look at Selendrile, whose gaze met hers. In their silence, surrounded by the sounds of the surf, they were united by this simple fact. They were no longer divided by the petty differences of dragon and human, or magic and non-magic, or even by male and female. They were both simply two beings, two creatures that were rendered equal by the ocean, the sky, and love.
"Shall we go down by the water?" Selendrile asked in a voice that was not quite his own.
"Yes," Alys replied, "but first, I want to thank you."
As their lips met, his arms wrapped around her waist and her body pressed snugly against his, the waves crashed in their ears, and gulls laughed overhead.