Dust on the Sand
He heard them calling to him. Wake up, Ouni. Please come back to us. Ouni, you're safe now.
But coming back was too painful. Being awake hurt too much. Out there, inside the belly of the cursed Skyros, his heart had been ripped from his chest. It had been put back, but not whole. A piece was missing. A piece would always be missing. Nibi had finally escaped the Mud Whale, and now he was gone forever.
How could Ouni live as something less than whole?
Instead of waking, he sank deeper into sleep. He chased the sound of laughter; the laughter of children, free and uncaring of the rules by which they were supposed to live, ignorant of the pain of loss.
A scene unfolded before him, like a flower opening to the rays of the morning sun. From its petals came the laughter, calling to him. He reached out, and touched it…
"Come on, Nibi! Hurry!"
His thirteen year old self stood impatiently beside the reed boat, one hand resting upon its side, ready to push off from the Mud Whale's shores. Nibi jogged towards him, uncaring of the timing of their great escape. But then, the world of the Mud Whale had always been a bigger place, for Nibi. He still didn't understand that what he thought of as 'freedom' was just an illusion fed to them by the Council of Elders.
"Can't you move any faster?" Ouni demanded.
Nibi smiled. He always had a smile ready, for Ouni. "Of course I can. But the faster I move, the faster we get out there, the faster we get discovered as missing, and the faster this is over. I don't wanna do it fast, Ouni. I want to enjoy every minute of it."
He couldn't argue with that, nor bring himself to tell Nibi to hurry again. Not many people wanted to spend time in his company, but Nibi did. Nibi liked being with him so much that he'd even relinquished his position of leader of their gang, so that Ouni could lead them instead.
'You're the one with vision,' Nibi had said at the time. 'And you have the strongest thymia. If anyone can get off this island, it's you. So, maybe you should be the leader. Just until we get to the outside world, of course.'
He'd never wanted a position of power. Never asked for it. Never even hoped for it. But Nibi had given it freely and asked for nothing in return. Ouni had never had a truer friend.
They jumped into the boat, giddy with nerves. They were going to do it. They were going to get away from the Mud Whale. They would escape the small, boring life on the small, boring island.
A couple of miles away, an oasis had formed. They cropped up every once in a while, small pockets of grassland and water, sometimes even trees bearing rare and exotic fruit. Nobody knew how they came into being, but everybody knew they never lasted long. This was Ouni's last chance. By tomorrow, the oasis would be gone, swallowed up once more by the great ocean of sand, sunk back down with the bones of their ancestors.
"Do you want to do it?" Nibi asked. He patted the side of the reed boat. There was only one way to move a boat across the sand: Thymia.
"No. Let's do it together. We're stronger when we're together."
Nibi smiled again, his features shining beneath the soft glow of his aura. Bright circles, the reason why those who could use thymia were called 'Marked', appeared on his cheeks, intricate patterns of light that were unique to Nibi.
Ouni embraced his own thymia, letting its warmth radiate out like the touch of sunlight, and the glow from his aura joined Nibi's, providing enough light to guide their way. Together, they pushed off from the shore, floating out into the inky night.
"The oasis is that way," he said, pointing to a place where the tops of tall trees were just visible on the horizon.
"Then let's not waste any time. Let's see how fast this thing can go!"
Their auras grew brighter as they pushed more thymia through their bodies, directing the intangible force into moving the small boat. Their speed brought wind; it whipped at their clothes and their hair. Several times, Ouni had to push his hair back out of his eyes and tuck it behind his ears, but the wind was persistent.
He looked behind, and saw nothing. Darkness and distance had swallowed the Mud Whale. There was nothing out here but the boat. Nobody but he and Nibi, laughing as they drank their freedom by the gallon. With a laugh, Nibi lent down over the side of the boat, and Ouni's heart lurched as the image of his friend falling over and being swallowed by the sand ran fleetingly past his eyes. But Nibi merely trailed his fingers above the sand's surface, letting them skim above the waves and leave wiggly channels behind.
Without warning, Nibi's aura sputtered. Ouni grabbed his friend by the waist and pulled him back into the boat. He pulled with more force than he'd intended; they both went sprawling, and Nibi's aura winked out completely. The boat lurched, but Ouni forced yet more thymia through his body, and righted the tiny vessel before they could both be thrown to their deaths.
"I'm sorry." Nibi sat up, unshed tears pooling in his eyes. "I wish I was a natural, like you."
A natural. It was the only way anybody could describe Ouni—or that he could describe himself. All the other Marked needed to be taught how to channel their thymia, how to use it as they wished and bend the force to their will. But nobody had ever taught Ouni. He'd simply woken up one day and known how to make the thymia do everything he wanted. Before that… he had no memory of what came before. He didn't remember his parents, or his home, or whether he had any siblings. He'd wandered alone… until Nibi. Now, he would never be alone again.
"Like I said," he offered his hand, and pulled his friend to his feet, "we're stronger together."
The oasis rose up from the sand, so near that Ouni desperately channelled every ounce of thymia he had into stopping the boat. If they crashed into the trees, their boat would be too damaged to float, and they would both sink with the oasis.
It worked. The delicate boat slid to a swift halt just a few feet from one of the pole-like trunks. His knuckles were white from gripping the boat's sides… and his ribs ached, from Nibi's grip around his chest.
Slowly, he uncurled his fingers. Nibi's grip slackened enough to allow him to draw breath. Were his friend's pale face and terror-wide eyes a mirror of his own?
"You can let go now," he told Nibi.
Nibi smiled, and reached out to brush his fingers against Ouni's cheek, and the patterns which still shone with thymia. "And so can you."
The light winked out. Nibi finally let go, to reach down beneath the boat's bench seat and pull out a small lantern. "I think we're far enough away from the Mud Whale to use this, now."
By the light of the lamp, they tentatively left the boat. Neither one of them had ever been a part of a scouting party, but they'd heard enough stories to know to go slowly and carefully. They tested each footfall before putting their full weight into the step, and walked one behind the other, on proven ground. Ouni insisted on going first. He was the leader, after all… and he would rather lose himself than lose Nibi.
Water was their guide. It bubbled quietly a short distance away, intensifying their thirst. Even at night, the desert was hot, and the sand was still too warm for comfort underfoot.
"There!" Nibi grabbed his arm, pointing to something not far away. "The water is over there. I saw the light's reflection on its surface."
At the water's edge, they stopped to test the sand. One of the oldest Marked had told a story recently of sand that became like mud and sucked people down with such force that there was no chance of escape. But this sand was just sand, and where the water met it, it was wet sand.
"Do you think it's safe to drink?" Nibi asked. "I'm so thirsty. I never even thought of bringing a flask of water."
"I don't know. Let me find out."
He edged forward. The water splashed over the open toes of his sandals; it, too was warm, and too shallow to provide the coolness that came with depth. When he tasted it, he found it gritty and odd to the taste. Not at all like the sweet, cool water of the Mud Whale. It was the one good thing that place had.
"It's not really good enough for drinking," he said. "But I overheard Masoh telling Taisha that there are fruit growing on the trees of this oasis that are filled with juice."
"Probably picked clean by one of the parties already."
"Let's look anyway. What have we got to lose by trying, right?"
Nibi's firm nod was all the agreement he needed. Together, they peered at the tops of every tree, not knowing what the fruit looked like, or whether there was even any left. Finally, just as Ouni was about to give up, Nibi gasped aloud.
"Ouni, look, up there! I think I see one!"
He squinted up into the leaves of the tallest tree… yes, there was something up there. Either it had been missed by the parties, or was too unripe to bring back. But it didn't matter; their needs were less than those of the Mud Whale community. They could make use of some small, unripe thing that others would discard without second thought.
From his belt, he pulled out his knife. Once more, he embraced thymia, and used it to fling the knife up into the tree. It went cleanly through the stem holding the fruit to its branch—a fruit that Nibi caught with his own burst of thymia before it could hit the ground and be ruined.
"Nice catch," he offered.
"Child's play," Nibi scoffed. "Let's find somewhere with a good view to eat this."
Ouni looked at the sand around them. The view from this place was little different to the view from the Mud Whale. Sure, the air smelled different, and the water tasted odd, but beyond the confines of the oasis was the same inhospitable desert. He'd simply traded a prison that was moving for one that was sinking.
"Over here, Ouni!" Nibi waved at him from a sand dune that hugged the shallow water. "We can sit with our feet in the oasis!"
Seeing the happy smile on Nibi's face made the exchange of prisons worth it, even if it was only for one night. He joined his friend and used the knife to cut through the thick outer flesh of the fruit. The soft insides weren't quite ripe, but they were juicy and refreshing. By the time they'd finished and discarded the husks, their hands and faces were sticky enough to make washing in the sandy oasis water a necessity.
Clean again, he lay back onto the dune and looked up at the stars. A moment later, Nibi joined him in watching the constellations wander across the sky. Over there was the sand dolphin, and behind it, the rock shark. A larger constellation, known as The Isle of a Thousand Trees, was his favourite, A nightly reminder that somewhere, out there, was more. More than the Mud Whale and the floating islands and the oases that came and went in the blink of an eye.
"The Mud Whale must be really far away," said Nibi at last. "I can't even see the light of its castle on the horizon. Do you think we can make it back?"
"Maybe we shouldn't try." He rolled the idea around in his head, then tossed it out to Nibi, to see what his friend thought of it. "Maybe we should just get in the boat and head out there. Aim for the rising sun, and see where it takes us."
"We'd be exhausted before the end of the day. We'd crash into the sand and sink to the bottom of the great ocean."
"Not true. I would never let you sink. I will use all the power I have to keep you safe."
Nibi tucked his arms behind his head, creating himself a pillow with his hands. "Only because without me, you'd be a leader without any followers."
He let that claim lie. Nibi didn't truly believe it. One friend was more important than a thousand followers, and if he had to choose one friend from amongst all to take with him on a journey to the outside world, it would be Nibi. It wasn't that he didn't like the others… but they always wanted something. To talk, or to do something, or go somewhere on the island. Nibi didn't make demands like that.
The sky lightened. The stars faded. In the distance, he heard calls, and when he turned his head, he spotted a pair of tiny boats growing slowly larger as they approached. It seemed their absence had finally been noticed. Or, more likely, somebody had discovered a boat missing. Those people would be more worried about the boat than the boys who'd taken it.
"I suppose this is the end of our adventure." Nibi sighed, and turned his gaze away from the approaching reed vessels.
"It looks that way."
"We'll be due another month in the Internal, when we get back. But you know what?" Nibi's smile lit up his blue eyes, making them come alive in a way that thymia couldn't. "It was worth it."
"Stay here!" he screamed at his thirteen year old self. "Don't go back. You can't keep him safe. Your thymia wasn't enough. You broke your promise and they took him away from you."
He tried to stop the memory, to prevent it from playing out, to keep himself in this moment forever. But there was nothing he could do. He was a helpless observer, just as he'd been back on Skyros, when he'd cradled Nibi's lifeless body in his arms. Murdered, by those emotionless monsters who made a mockery of humanity by calling themselves human beings.
Criminals, they accused the people of the Mud Whale. But how could they be criminals when none of them remembered the crime? How could they have broken the laws, if they didn't know what the laws were? The outside world, the place that he had both idolised and idealised, was revealed in truth; a place of arrogance and hostility. Men who gave their souls to monsters so they could kill without a second thought. Slaves to masters who cared only for power, and thought nothing of innocence or beauty or love. The Mud Whale wasn't perfect, but it was a place where all that was good and right with the world could flourish. Nibi had known that all along.
I was pretty satisfied there. Admiring the outside world from that island. Looking up at the same sky and out at the same ocean with you. That was enough. I was happy.
For that knowledge, Nibi had died. He'd died, and left Ouni with a hole in his heart.
"Perhaps I can help you with that."
The feminine voice spoke so close to his ear that he whirled on the spot and took a leap backwards, prepared for the same stroke of death that had taken Nibi beyond his reach. But it wasn't an enemy waiting to strike; it was a girl, and she was watching his memory play out. Watching the men in the boats take him and Nibi away from the oasis before it could sink.
"I've seen you somewhere before," he said, taking in her red hair and black dress.
"Of course you have; I live here too, just like you. My name's Aíma. I hope we can be friends."
"How did you get into my dream?"
The smile she gave him was small and secretive. "Oh, I go where I please. I don't usually go into dreams, but I felt your pain so strongly that I just couldn't ignore it." She held out her hand, beckoning him to take it. "Would you like me to take your pain away?"
The pain. Yes. It was unbearable. It crushed his chest and made him want to scream until he had no breath left in his lungs. It made him want to embrace thymia, all of it, and lay waste to those who'd taken Nibi from him. And it made him want to crawl into the smallest, darkest hole, where he could curl up and die.
But without his pain, what would he be? An apátheia? A man who would kill at the direction of others, with no guidance from his conscience? Yes, he'd done bad things. He'd broken rules and flaunted customs and taken lives to protect his people. But there was a line he could not cross. If he gave up his sadness, then Nibi's death would've been for nothing. Nibi deserved more than that. Ouni deserved more than that. And their people deserved to know that their defenders were fighting for their way of life; not giving it up because it was more convenient not to feel it.
"No." He took a step back, away from the strange girl with the power to enter dreams. "My pain and my sadness makes me human. And it makes me want to protect the friends I have left even more. Nibi is waiting for me, out there, beyond the sea of sand. He told me he would wait for me. One day, I'll find my way back to him, and when I do, my pain will stop and I will be whole again. It's the one thing I have to look forward to."
"Very well. If you change your mind, just call my name. I'll know where to find you."
"Wait!"
His plea stopped her mid-turn, curiosity dancing across her face.
"That man… the one on Skyros. He called me a daímonas. What does that mean?"
"It means that you are special."
"You're wrong." He raised his fingers to his chest. His heart still hurt. It always would. But knowing that Nibi was waiting for him had brought a sliver of strength and defiance back to his broken spirit. "If I'm special, it's not because I'm a daímonas. It's because I have people in my life… people like Nibi, and my friends… who are willing to give their lives for me. And I for them."
"That is not so different to being daímonas." She smiled proudly.
"He also said I was cursed. Mad. And that Fálaina…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. Even though he know it was true. Even though he'd always known that he was different. It wasn't just the thymia. It was everything. He'd never belonged, not even with Nibi. But at least Nibi hadn't questioned it. He'd just let the matter lie.
Courage, Ouni. He straightened up. "He said that Fálaina made me. Why would he say that?"
"Because she did make you, as she made me, and Neri. We each have our purpose. We each protect Fálaina, in our own ways. But she created you to be a protector of her people, as well. And she wants you to be happy. Once the Children of the Whale are safe, if you do not want to stay, then you must leave, and find your happiness wherever it may be."
"And the madness? The curse?" If he was to suffer some great breakdown, he needed to know now. He needed to get away from the people he cared about before he hurt them even more.
Aíma brushed off his concern. "Superstition. In times long past, the Nous created daímonas as powerful warriors. They were made many, and fast. Often, they could not handle the power and the knowledge that came with being so closely connected to a Nous. They grew to need the power of thymia… they craved it as a man dying of thirst craves water. And the minds of the Nous, imbued with so many thoughts and memories, drove them mad.
"But it does not have to be like that, for you. You were not made fast; you were made young. You have had chance to grow into your power. You have had time to learn about the world and form bonds with those who live in it. As you age—and you will age—your power will grow even stronger. But you do not need to worry about madness. Fálaina is not like the other Nous. She is different."
The final piece of the puzzle clicked into place. "Because she doesn't feed off our memories and emotions. She feeds off our lives." He'd surprised Aíma with the claim; he could tell by the expression on her face. But she didn't deny it. "The man in Skyros, he told us that we don't know why we have such short lives, but it's because of Fálaina, isn't it? She grants us thymia, and in turn takes our lives. That is why the Marked die young."
The revelation should've shocked him. Hurt him. But a short life full of friendship was better than a long one without emotion. The Marked still had a better deal than the apátheia. At least they were free to think and love as they chose. Had the lives of the Mud Whale's people been used to create him? If so, that only made it all the more important that he protect them. Too many had been lost already.
"You will not live a life so short as the Marked," she told him. "As you have known all your life… you are different. Will you tell them? They may be angry."
He shook his head. "It's not my place. And we have bigger concerns. Perhaps if we're ever able to find something more than the sea of sand, I will tell them why they do not live long. But until then, there is nowhere for us to go. The knowledge would fester in their hearts, poisoning their souls. It would destroy everything that is good about them. I won't let that happen."
"Spoken like a true daímonas!" Somehow, she began to float, drifting backward away from the dream of the memory. "I will leave you now, Ouni. Wake up soon; your people still need you, and there is much work to be done now that kókalo has joined us."
Kóka-what?
He didn't get chance to ask. Aíme faded away, leaving him alone,
No. Not alone. He still had his dream. His memory. It was still playing, in the background.
On a vast sea of sand, three small boats made their way across the bare expanse, heading towards an island of mud. The two boys, separated onto different reed boats, shared a smile that spanned the distance between them.
Somewhere, out there, beyond the shores of life, Nibi was waiting for him. And Ouni knew his friend was still smiling.