Tundra

Already, Aais missed the sea. He missed the lurching waves and the water that hugged him at all times. He missed the kissing currents and the beat of the Seafarer drums that carried on the swell. He missed squalls and the cosy feeling of being beneath the water’s churning surface when they came. He felt as if his heartbeats had stayed with the synchronised lapping of the tide and swirling of the deepest forces. Now, on land, he was hollow.

He was hollow, but he had to go on. He thought of his brothers and sisters, gone to possession, and he knew that he had to find the god Hassis. Webbed foot followed webbed foot, first over sand and then over land, and finally onto the strangest material of all, weeds that stood stiff in the absence of water, but coated in something hard that became water when crushed. The cool air robbed Aais of moisture, so that he walked thirsty all the distance between the sea and the forest.

Without knowing what it was or what it meant, Aais the fish man had discovered the tundra.