The Sea, the Sea! He dreams of you;

Of half-remembered things so uncommon;

The taste of salt upon his tongue

And the feel of sand at his feet;

Of the sounds of waves;

And the ease of breath he loves so dear.

He tells of sunsets and eyes;

of Sins abolished, consciences cleared of wrongs.

My silence seems unnoticed by him in the wake of his dreams;

He seems so peaceful;

So I do not allow him to see my tears;

and let him believe the salt he smells

is an echo that lingers still.

I let him rumble to me, untroubled!

Untroubled of the coming end, it seems;

while inside I am torn to pieces, scattered like the stars!

The Sea, the Sea, how can I not be selfish;

To wish him here on this side of your shores?

He calls me Siha but his name does not fit;

This Siha he insists to exist would understand that all time ends;

For my Mistress' Sister-God is the one who holds him

at the edge of her domain.

Kalahira, dear Kalahira!

Can you not choose another of your Brother's blades?

For I am a selfish woman and he is mine;

He is the rhythm of my heart, the fight within my soul;

And my love grows stronger still the longer I am with him!

Do you not know this, Kalahira?

Have you not spoken with your Sister?

Does she, too, not understand this significance?

That this selfish Siha would sacrifice many

for another minute added to his life?

It is so difficult to speak in this tongue;

this language that is most likely to reach you!

This talk of prayer is not of my normal means of coping.

But, perhaps if I take a piece of parchment from his book;

and touch the swirls that I do not understand (but wish I could);

Would you Gods hear my voice at last?

His end draws closer with every day that passes;

Is it so terrible to be so selfish;

to wish for the courage to go against his wishes?

I want to give him the breath of others,

though he has told me 'no' more than I could remember.

Kalahira, and dear Arashu!

If only I had the strength of Gods

to defy this tapestry you both have woven!

I would undo the threads that you have sewn

and remake them to tie his life to mine;

But I dare not tell my love of my own dreams;

the ones that reflect this very sentiment.

I know the face he'd give me,

the horror in his eyes that would clench my gut;

But, oh, to speak of his eyes!

How I love them, those black tide-pools

that reflect the worlds of a life I have not seen;

but are innately part of him.

I would miss him, Kalahira, dear Arashu;

Do you not see this?

More than the family lost when I was young;

more than the fifty lost to the Monster that haunts me still!

But no amount of pleading, it seems, will halt his end;

For he dreams of Your shores more frequently now

than he did when we first met.

I no longer hide my tears from him;

if he is leaving me then he must know this pain!

For I am selfish enough to want it,

just so he could hold me and not be so at peace with this ending.

I have died once already, Kalahira;

And being pulled from your shores was not my choice.

But it seems you punish me for this deed not my own,

by taking a piece of me that you were prevented from having before.

I love him, Kalahira! But, ah, you and your God-Siblings know this already!

For it is obvious that when he dies;

More than half of me will join him across the Sea.

The Sea, the Sea! I wonder what it is like?

Will I dream of it once my love is gone?

For I am tethered to him, and so must see what he sees.

I only hope that he will not mind

feeling my hand holding his in a ghostly apparition.