By Eric Kao

Aurvelle plucked a plain-looking shell from the ocean floor as one might a flower from the land. Or at least, so she had heard. How strange to uproot a living thing so that its death might add beauty to one’s life. Wasn’t it more suited to the ground?  

The shell didn’t fit in her hand and defiantly so. After all, it had just been comfortably nestled in the conforming sands of the ocean floor. Her palm and fingers shifted to wrap around its shape and give it shelter in the warmth of her hand. Even still, the shell didn’t quite fit. No, it refused to fit. She had plucked it from its resting place because, plain as it seemed, it stood out. Not for its beauty, but rather its lack of belonging. She had felt a kinship with it. Yet in her hand, conform as she tried, it still proudly stood out.  

Did shells also wither away when uprooted from the silt they had chosen? Her father told her that shells weren’t alive, but she wasn’t so sure. She cradled the delicate thing to her ear. A summer breeze through a field of grass whispered back to her. The flowers of the field would bow, but not break, in the gentle current. A flower belonged on the land. It would wither away and dissolve into nothingness in the salty brine of the ocean.  

Oppressive burning tingled through her lungs, but still she listened to the shell as it sang of the land. Of warm sun and clean air. Pain burned through her chest. A longing for air, for freedom. Shells weren’t alive and yet why did this one tell her such wondrous things of the world above? Of home. Yes, as sure as the shell sighed for dirt and heat and rain, it longed for home. How cruel to be born of the sea. Aurvelle brushed her fingers lightly against the rippling surface of the shell. Like a flower, it withered away in the salty brine.  

At last, the fire demanded solace. Aurvelle pulled cool, salty water through her gills to soothe her burning lungs. The water flowed through her body as her body did through water itself. Oxygen pooled in her lungs and then circulated through her blood, but neither it nor the water quenched the raw pain in her chest. It was ever constant, as immersive as the sea. The pain was all she had ever known.  

Far above, light filtered through the water. The sun plunged into the depths and stretched its warm fingers towards her. She reached out and kicked towards the surface. The shell urged her upward and she held it aloft to lead the way.  

“Aurvelle!”  

The voice wrapped around her leg and weighed her back down like an anchor. The tendril of her father’s voice reeled her back down. Down to her father’s side on the salt-kissed silt of the ocean floor. To where she belonged.  

Impressive shells covered her father’s body, a testament to his wide travels. Iridescent scales, carefully woven into his netted clothing, told, with only a glance, of his prowess. He wore, as all sea-dwellers did, the tapestry of his life wrapped around him.  

Aurvelle’s own tapestry clung to her body for all to see. Scales she’d found, shells she’d rescued. To her people, they told the story of one’s life. To her people, the adornments revealed who you were. She shifted through the water, the shells digging into her body uncomfortably. Precious light bounced off the scales wrapped around her arm. What did it feel like to let that light caress her skin? Wasn’t it true that the land-dwellers bathed in light? In light and not water at all! Of course, except the water that fell from the sky. And how did it feel to stand in that rain? To be kissed by the water instead of swallowed up by it.  

Aurvelle’s father took the shell from her hand and examined it closely. The cool water brushed her palm where the warmth of the shell had rested. The absence of the shell like a connection severed, the land all the further away. But no. The shell was of the sea. Like her, it was born of the sea. 

“Too plain. No, this isn’t right at all. It says nothing of who you are.” He dropped the shell and it fluttered into the silt. Aurvelle’s hand shot out for it, but her father steered her away. He pointed across the sea where several other girls scavenged for beautiful facets of their identity to adorn themselves with. Perfectly symmetrical shells, shimmering scales, fragments of the rainbow corral. “Now see them. Why don’t you try to be a little more like them?” Her father even hid most of the disappointment from his voice. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, keeping her from turning back to the plain shell. “Aurvelle, just try. Keep working at it, you’ll get it. One day, it will feel natural.”  

He pointed towards a spiraling shell and pulled her towards it. Their steps stirred up the settled sands in a flurry. She glanced over her shoulder, but it was gone. The burning in her chest remained. The new shell fit in her palm nicely and she held it close to her ear. It sang of the ocean, of the waves that lapped at the shore, of the current that rocked her to sleep. She fastened it to her left leg with a tendril of seaweed that her father provided with a nod of approval.  

She was soon a fully grown woman. Her hands on her body confirmed her maturity. The suppleness of youth nearing full bloom. Twenty years of the sea. So many more to come. Her chest tightened. The sea water nurtured her body. She, like the shells. Only a flower would wither away in the salty brine. 

Soon, one day soon, she’d go and meet a mate. They’d see her shells, they’d see her scales. Would they see her? Of course, the shells and scales were her. It was the way of the people.  

Aurvelle dutifully combed through the water. Her father left her to her gathering with a subtle nudge towards the other young sea-dwellers. She drifted towards them, but stayed on the outskirts. The ocean drew her from the gathering spot and she let it guide her. Once she was far enough from the group, she swam away. The other sea-dwellers so often only looked down. Always their eyes sweeping the floor for buried treasure. Far above her, the burning sun slid through the water. She held up a hand and let it play through her fingers with a smile. The light drew her upwards and she twirled through the water. Even much closer, the warmth left her wanting. Like rain, the light trickled over her, but scales and shells shaded her. A shadow crossed her, blocking the light. Drifting above her, something bobbed gently atop the ocean surface. She kicked up until her fingers brushed the undersurface of a few logs of wood lashed together. A raft. She’d heard of such objects. Land-dwellers didn’t stop at plucking flowers from the ground. Sometimes, they took entire trees!  

This close to the surface, yet more shaded than she’d ever been. The fire in her chest screamed at her. Raged and roared, crackled and burned. Her fingers followed from log to log until she’d brushed the last one. The ocean loomed empty all around, save the fish and shells. The thin membrane where the air and the sea kissed seemed like stone. Unbreakable. And yet, her fingers tingled from the contact with the wood. The tips of her right hand slid around the log and she touched the sky.  

Laughter bubbled out of her burning chest and trickled to the surface. The air danced over her fingers like an ocean current! This… this was wind! Unable to contain herself a moment longer, she thrust her entire arm and shattered the surface of the sky. Then her other arm. Then her head. The sun cradled her face in its loving hands and ran its fingers through her hair. She gasped and breathed in through her mouth. Her lungs inflated with exhilaration and sent her glee tumbling over the ocean waves in cathartic joy. More, she needed more! She heaved herself onto the raft and the shell on her thigh knocked into the edge and fell back into the water. She flopped onto the plucked trees. So heavy. Her body had a strange feeling, as if constantly falling. She giggled at the sensation. Weight. Yes, she’d heard her father and the other adults speak of it. The curse of the land.  

She lifted her left arm and relaxed it. It flopped back to rest on the logs and she cascaded into delighted laughter again. Weight! She laid on her back and let the sun and wind dance over her skin. They fought for influence on her body, one warming and the other cooling. No one had ever fought over her before.  

Weight, the curse of the land. A burden that the sea-dwellers couldn’t bear. But what did they know of an eternal burden? The weight of her flesh, the heat of the sun, the cold of the wind–such intoxicating burdens. They meant nothing at all. Aurvelle took a breath and breathed. The burning in her chest ebbed away. In legends of fire, it had a weakness. All fire needed air. Why then had hers finally been extinguished?  

***

Aurvelle tethered her slice of the land to a secret spot in an isolated cove. That first day, the sun betrayed her. Colored her pink and red. When she arrived home that evening, her father beamed with pride. Her body danced with all manner of shells and scales. Barely an inch of her body showed! Her tender flesh burned from the rubbing, but her chest burned more. Oppressive heat that screamed for sky and dirt and falling rain. In subsequent days, she fashioned a shelter to coyly hide her body from her suitor, the sun. Every now and then, she offered it peeks of her supple form, enough to keep it interested, of course!  

Aurvelle bobbed on her raft and studied the beach as she often did from a distance. No one swam from sea to land. No one ran from land to sea. It wasn’t uncommon that sea-dweller and land-dweller would meet at the beach. This was the way of the people. The mating ritual in the frenzied sands. The waves covering and uncovering their naked bodies. The sea-dweller never leaving the water, the land-dweller never leaving the shore. And afterwards, they would ebb away, the land-dweller to the fields and forests, the sea-dweller to the ocean reefs and canyons.  

She peered at the land, where trees and grass and birds and dirt! and flowers and so, so much more peeked back at her. The smell of green and brown wafted over the ocean sometimes and made her heart pound. A flash of red caught her attention. She whipped her head around and scanned the shore. There! A figure emerged from the trees. A woman with fire atop her head. Amber curls bounced with every purposeful step. The traditional animal skins of the land-dwellers wrapped around her body, swinging with intention from her brisk pace. Aurvelle slipped back into the water and peeked over the edge of the raft. No one had ever come to the cove. Her heart raced and she squeezed closer to her floating piece of land. The woman looked to be in her twenties, maybe a few years older than her. She lifted the pelt from her body, up over her head and those crimson locks. Aurvelle’s eyes danced over the woman’s creamy skin and her heart beat all the faster. The woman stepped out of the pants made of pelts sewn together and Aurvelle partially rose out of the water, her forearms and torso resting against the raft. The woman folded the clothes neatly and stashed them under the leaves of a bush. She walked up to the edge of the overlook. There was no beach in the cove. Instead, the land rebuked the ocean’s embrace with a cruel wall that rose ten feet over the water’s surface. No beach, no reason for land- or sea-dwellers to ever disturb Aurvelle. So she had thought.  

The woman stretched her arms overhead. Her gaze never left the water. Almost as if she intended to… Aurvelle gasped in realization. She covered her mouth and immediately bobbed back down into the water with a blip. In the water, the tingling in her chest stirred warningly, but she waited a few moments. Cautiously, she rose out of the water, just enough to clear her eyes and nose. The outlook stood bare. Where was she? Surely, she hadn’t… Aurvelle hauled herself onto her raft. Even with the greater visibility, no woman sprang into sight. Ripples lapped at the earth beneath the outlook that shunned the ocean. Aurvelle scanned the disturbed water, but it revealed no secrets to her.  

“Hi.”  

Aurvelle let out a shriek and fell off her raft. She clawed through the water, mauling it around her, and turned to face where the voice had come from. Green like grass, red like dancing fire. The woman met her gaze, amusement shining in her emerald eyes. Aurvelle panicked and kicked up to the surface. She smashed her head into the raft and the world blurred. Pain lanced through her head and clouded her thoughts further. Her hands raked at the raft, sending it sliding through the cove and her into the depths. A hand wrapped around her wrist and spun her back around. She found herself face-to-chest and froze. Weightlessness did such interesting things to their anatomy sometimes. The woman made no motion to cover herself, but after a moment, she eased Aurvelle upwards. The guiding pressure brought her back to her senses and her face filled with heat. She floated upward. Heat rose, after all! It was hard to meet the woman’s eyes. It was harder not to, though. They twinkled mischievously with all the secrets of the land.  

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”  

Aurvelle licked her lips and the woman’s eyes traced her lips. She felt naked in front of her. Her suit, woven with ocean ornaments, rested on the raft. She was naked in front of her. The woman had seen her, shamefully basking in the sun, betraying the ocean, mother to them all. So why did her eyes dance so playfully? The heat trickled down through Aurvelle’s body, tingled down her spine, and she flushed through the very seat of her being.  

“I, um, no, you didn’t. Scare me, that is…”  

The woman cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh, so that’s how you always get in the water, is it? Scream, flop in, and slam your head on something.”  

She should go. Leave this whole mess behind her. Leave the raft, the sun, the wind. But those eyes. Green like the grass. Was it true that green things didn’t burn? The flaming curls that bobbed around the woman’s head in the water certainly didn’t seem capable of destroying those green oases. Aurvelle smiled at the woman’s friendly tone and shrugged. “I don’t always hit my head. Sometimes, it’s a hand or knee.” Why was she joking around with her? With this woman who knew her dark secret. She bit her lip in uncertainty. She needed to grab her clothes, cover up, and leave.  

The woman’s eyes dropped to Aurvelle’s incisors nibbling her bottom lip. They dropped down lower and Aurvelle lost all urge to retrieve her clothes. Her body radiated heat into the cool water, her heartbeat almost audible through the echoing depths of the sea. Oppressive burning in her chest, this she was used to. But the pressure gathering in her stomach from the stretching silence, this was a void that needed to be filled.  

“I’m Aurvelle. It’s nice to meet you.” Her voice inflected upward making it sound like a question and she suppressed a wince. Bubbles trickled from her mouth at an unusually quick rate, betraying her nervous breathing.  

“Bellacia.”  

The knots in Aurvelle’s stomach loosened just a little. There, she’d gotten a name. And names gave you power, right? The power to know someone. “I’ve never, uh, met a land-dweller before.”  

Bellacia swam past Aurvelle towards the base of the outlook she had dove from. “I dwell on the land, but I’m not a land-dweller.”  

Aurvelle felt bound to her now. She had her name, didn’t she? She kicked through the water and hovered around Bellacia as she searched through the rocks. “What do you mean? You were born of the land, weren’t you?”  

Bellacia grunted and stayed focused on surveying the rocks. She lit up and reached into a cluster. A second later, she retrieved a bundle of netting with scales, shells, and coral woven into it. “I was born on the land, but I was born of the sea.” She slipped into the netting, one leg at a time.  

“How is that possible? If you’re born of the land, you are of the land.”  

Bellacia shimmied her arms into the suit and adjusted it to display the shells to her liking. “And why is that?”  

Burning in her chest, the ocean pressing all around her. Aurvelle swam down to Bellacia. “It’s just, it’s the way of the people.”  

Bellacia snorted and flexed her arms and legs. She adjusted a shell that jabbed into her right knee. “Well, it’s not my way.” She bent her leg, but the shell still poked into her thigh.  

Aurvelle’s fingers twisted the shell into place in a practiced motion, while her mind stumbled through the illogic of it all. “But you can’t just choose.”  

Bellacia kicked her legs, now uninhibited, and nodded in approval. She pushed off the floor, sending up a plume of silt, and swam back towards the raft. Aurvelle darted through the water after her. They met at the raft and Bellacia ran her fingers under the bottom of the raft. “I didn’t choose to be born of the sea. Just like I didn’t choose to be born on the land. All I’ve chosen is to live how I want. Now, let’s go.”  

Aurvelle popped her head out of the water and took a glorious breath of land air. She grabbed her clothes and pulled them half-way on before pausing. “Go where?”  

Bellacia twirled in the water, a slightly awkward motion. But she flung her arms out and laughed as she spun, exhilarated and free. Bubbles soared to the surface as if brought to boil by the fire that wreathed her head. She never answered Aurvelle, but grabbed her hand in response. So they went.  

Aurvelle took them to a popular gathering spot near a coral reef canyon. Aurvelle wound around the skeletal structures with grace, her body undulating and rippling through the water without thought. Bellacia pulled the water past herself in long clawing motions, clumsy, but eager. She spotted a shell nestled in the silt and let out a laugh. Some digging and she held it aloft triumphantly. As she brushed the silt away, Aurvelle drifted in close.  

“Is it true that on the land, you adorn yourself in the living? Flowers, plants, and trees?”  

Bellacia snorted and stroked the smooth shell. “Well, flowers maybe! I don’t know anyone putting a plant on their head.”  

Aurvelle’s heart fluttered. How strange! So different, the sea and the land. Here, they gathered the lifeless to sing the story of their lives. But there was a permanence to it. A scale could be forever. But what of these flowers? “Don’t they die though? As soon as they’re separated, don’t they wither away? Why put a fading life in your hair?”  

Bellacia’s wild hair fanned out around her head like an angry halo. Even in the water, the burning sun ever framed her features. Warm on her skin, the sun’s loving touch. Aurvelle’s arm jerked and she resisted the urge to run her fingers through Bellacia’s fiery hair. Bellacia floated through the water, using too large of movements to stay oriented towards Aurvelle. So many tiny adjustments that her own body made without thought. For one born of this salty brine, they occurred automatically, her own triumph over the ocean. The sea swallowed her up, but she wouldn’t be digested so easily!  

“A plucked flower offers up its beauty, but there is an obligation.” 

“An obligation?” Aurvelle, so enamored by the ways of the land, only registered how close they had drifted to each other when their legs brushed lightly.  

“For its beauty, it asks for beauty in exchange. To give a flower to someone is a promise. That something special, something beautiful, will happen. And all the flower asks in return for its life is that it sees that beauty before it fades.” Bellacia smiled and grabbed Aurvelle’s arm, causing her stomach to flutter. Bellacia placed the shell in her hand and Aurvelle blushed. The water teased them closer together, tangling their legs. They bobbed gently, their lips aligning and misaligning. Her legs radiated heat, the kind that lusted to be shared.  

“Who are you??”  

Aurvelle and Bellacia jerked apart at the sudden intrusion. From only a few feet away, Serala, a girl of similar age to Aurvelle, trained her voice on Bellacia like a spear. Aurvelle’s heart skipped a beat as fear, shame, and guilt swirled up from her depths, kicked up by Serala’s disdainful gaze.  

Bellacia faced Serala and Aurvelle suppressed a wince at her movements, so foreign. Too forceful, her fingers splayed too wide, her legs like clumsy rudders.  

“Bellacia. And who are you?”  

Serala cocked her head to the side. Aurvelle squeezed the shell tightly. She’d thought nothing of it until Serala’s reaction. Another clue, another inconsistency. The timbre of Bellacia’s voice sounded different. Maybe like that of a different dialect. Or maybe like that of someone not used to speaking underwater. Serala’s eyes danced over the shells and scales adorning Bellacia’s body. No, not danced. Analyzed. Probed. Noted the odd placement that interfered with clean movement of the limbs, the suboptimal orientation of the larger shells that dragged the water instead of acting like fins. “You’re not from around here. What are you doing here in our water?”  

Bellacia tossed her head and her locks whirled about her. “What’s it look like we’re doing? Gathering.”  

Several more people glided over and Aurvelle shrank down. “Uh, maybe we should go. We’ll find someplace else.”  

The group oriented to Aurvelle and she hugged herself to ward off their judgmental eyes. Serala pointed to the shell in her hand with a derisive laugh. “Did she give that to you?” 

Aurvelle wilted down further. “What? I–” 

“Do you know this freak?”  

Aurvelle glanced at Bellacia. Her beautiful emerald eyes shone brightly for a moment, but as the silence stretched, they tarnished with hurt. Aurvelle dropped her gaze and shook her head.  

Bellacia exhaled sharply. “Fine. I can see I’m not wanted here. I’ll leave.” She sliced the water around her with her hands in sharp, jerky movements. The group propelled her away with mocking laughs at her uncoordinated kicks. Aurvelle squeezed the shell and the ridges dug into her hand. A pain in her chest, different from the burning, throbbed through her heart. Bellacia left her. But, no, that’s not what had happened, was it? Her stomach tightened at the acknowledgement of her cowardice. Afraid. Why was she always so scared?  

Serala snatched the shell from her hand. “Gross. Should we chuck this in a volcanic vent?”  

A chorus of cheers met her suggestion, but Aurvelle’s body acted protectively without thinking. She tore the shell back and a tendril of red blossomed in the water from Serala’s hand. Serala let out a pained cry. “What are you doing, you idiot?!” She vindictively ripped a large flat shell from Aurvelle’s right sleeve. The group gasped and Aurvelle whipped her arm back, using Bellacia’s shell to cover the exposed area.  

Too late. Disgust filled their faces and they fanned out, surrounding her. She kicked backwards, her eyes wide. Serala aggressively swam forward. “Are you… tanned?” She jabbed her finger towards Aurvelle, underlining her accusation in blood.  

“No! No, I–”  

“Grab her!!”  

Aurvelle let out a cry as two of them caught her wrists. She struggled to jerk her arms free and Serala ripped another shell from her shoulder. Lightly browned skin betrayed her shame. Serala’s disgusted eyes stabbed through her and a sob tore from the deep hurt in Aurvelle’s chest. She flailed her arms and scales sloughed off, breaking her free of her captors. Several pairs of hands clawed through the water towards her body and she kicked off of Serala. Spinning through the water, she fled. Serala, the group, disgust, and shame chased after her, tearing at her legs and crumbling soul. Their nails scraped shells, scales, and trails of skin from her body, anointing the water pink behind her. Bit by bit, they exposed her sun-tainted skin.  

She desperately wove through the oppressive sea. Her tears mingled with the ocean behind her and her antagonizers’ gills drank them in to extract her pain. A trail of scales and shells trickled behind her, freeing her of their dragging resistance. Unhindered and peeled bare, she pulled away from the group. The coral reef canyon stretched in front of her and she wove through the sharp thicket with little regard for the thorns that tasted her flesh.  

Blood flowed from the dozens of gouges–from nails that revealed her great shame, from torn-away shells that sang of her sins, from the skeletal remains that formed the reef. It hurt. As it should. As she deserved. Her body could barely pull in water fast enough to oxygenate her burning arms and legs. At last, lost in the recesses of the reef and hidden from judgment, she curled in a ball to bleed and cry. Salty red brine leaked from her. Safe. She was safe here. Her hands shook and she clamped them over her mouth to stifle the pathetic noises. Safe here in the ocean. Her chest ached, her lungs burned, the trails in her arms and legs screamed.  

She risked a peek out and ducked back down. They combed through the reef. Why did they want to capture her so bad? Hadn’t they done enough? She couldn’t wait here forever. Now!, while they were still at least a little bit away. She shot out of the reef and frantically clawed through the water. A hand snaked around her ankle and jerked her back. She kicked desperately, but another hand grabbed her other leg. Within a few seconds, one of the men had trapped her hands behind her back while the other kept an iron grip on her ankle. The rest of the group arrived and her captors dragged her down in front of Serala.  

“Look at her. Burned by the sun. Disgusting.” She nodded to the two who held Aurvelle. “Tear off the rest of the suit. We’ll take her in front of everyone. Show them what she’s been hiding.” 

“No!” Aurvelle struggled. She couldn’t. Not in front of everyone. Not in front of her father. They tore the rest of her netting away. Blood drifted away from her, curling lazily through the water. Her shame grew, concentrated, and raged under the eyes, all the eyes. She couldn’t take it.  

Serala turned away imperiously. “Bring her.”  

***

Weightless. Lighter than weightless. Her body felt so faint, a wooziness fading in and out through her head. And yet so heavy. Her limbs felt leaden as blood continued to waft away.  

Not much further. They neared the village, surely. Through her puffy eyes, the caves dotted her vision. They winked in and out with the rest of the black spots. The two men holding her practically carried her through the water. She’d struggled, but to no avail. Not much further. Dread stabbed into her stomach. No!  

A surge of adrenaline and desperation pumped through her pained body and she jerked her right arm free. She shoved the other captor away and ripped her left arm free. The first man caught her and wrestled her arm back down, completely restraining her. So it was pointless then.  

A war cry erupted from the water. Everyone twisted to face the source of the challenge. Bellacia tore through the water, coming from above, and trailing a net. Aurvelle broke free again and launched to the side. Bellacia flung the net down and the two who had escorted Aurvelle raised their arms up. The net ensnared them, their thrashing, only tangling them further. Two more darted towards Bellacia and the woman in front smashed her shoulder into Bellacia’s stomach. She doubled over and the woman clawed at her, ripping away the sleeve of her right arm. She swiped at the woman, batting her to the side. A man grabbed both of Bellacia’s hands. Aurvelle raced upward and jerked him back awkwardly by his neck. Her arm covered his gills and he released Bellacia. He clawed Aurvelle’s arm away and Bellacia drove her foot into his stomach, eliciting a burst of bubbles from his mouth. Aurvelle kicked off of him and grabbed Bellacia’s hand. Together, they fled while the group once again gave chase. They tore the shells from Bellacia’s legs, scraping gashes down her thighs and lower legs.  

Despite her lesser maneuverability in the water, Bellacia slammed her land-hardened feet into their pursuers’ heads over and over and the crowd gradually thinned. At last, the ocean floor slid up to meet the surface of the water. By the time they reached the beach, only a few of the most dogged hunters remained.  

Aurvelle’s feet pushed through soft silt and then sand. The light pierced the water so close, a guiding force beckoning her onward through the pain and despair. With a final thrust, her head broke the water and life-affirming sky filled her lungs. They stumbled onto the beach, alone. The clean air licked her wounds and she fell down to her hands and knees. Bellacia pulled her to her feet. Hand-in-hand, they emerged from the water. For the first time, Aurvelle walked on land.  

***

The fire tread the raw paths gouged into her arms, legs, back, stomach, and neck. Aurvelle moved in a daze, oblivious to the pain. Every step brought her crashing down to glorious contact with the earth. No floating, no bobbing, no burning in her chest. She stumbled and Bellacia wrapped an arm around her waist. Guiding pressure steadied her from falling every which way. Bellacia led towards the forest.  

The sand ebbed away and the dirt flowed in. Another threshold. Aurvelle paused between the last gasp of the ocean and the true land. This step and she’d leave the water behind. The sweet smell of dirt wafted up to her. Her eyes plotted a path. She’d step forward and forward and forward, leaving it all behind. Green caught her attention and her breath caught in her chest. She broke away from Bellacia, skittering across the land on ungainly legs. Dirt compressed under the soles of her feet and squished between her toes. Wind caressed her skin. And grass filled her field of vision. Flowers bowed in the breeze and blades danced to the song of the surface.   

Her heavy legs didn’t lift high enough, weight!, and she tumbled down. Her knees and palms met the ground and she scrabbled forward to the sea of green. Bellacia sprinted to her and put a hand on her shoulder. Aurvelle collapsed into the tickling embrace of the soft blades. She let out a peal of laughter and rolled through the grass. Her arms glided through the grass and each blade kissed her soul in welcome. Land!! It was so dry and heavy and rough. It was so right. Her laughter curled to sobs. All of her life… And this, so right, all along. Her fingers trembled along the gouges on her arms, the cost of her journey. She strummed across the grooves torn into her skin and a symphony of loss sang through her body. Was wanting this so wrong? Tears, the last of the ocean inside her, trickled away and salted the earth.  

Soft dirt cradled her body and she rested her head on the land’s lap. Of the land. Her chest tightened. No, she couldn’t be. She was born of the sea. Her eyes rested on a blade of grass, a different shade of green than all the rest. They were all a different shade. Bellacia laid down next to her and her green eyes filled Aurvelle up. She drank them in and the embrace of the land and the love of the sun. Of the land. Yes. OF THE LAND! She inhaled as deeply as she could. Her chest loosened and she dissolved into the earth. Born of the sea, she was of the land!  

She wiggled through the grass and Bellacia rolled on top of her. Aurvelle pulled her down and their lips met in a salty kiss. Her tongue flicked forward and she tasted the sea. Bellacia pushed her lips hard enough into hers that Aurvelle’s head touched the land. Aurvelle strained upward into Bellacia and they found equilibrium in the sky. A dynamic, shifting equilibrium as their bodies fought for space. Her fingers ran through the grass and then brushed up Bellacia’s back. She plunged them into her fiery hair and warmth roiled down her arms. Aurvelle’s back arched, bringing their bodies further into contact.  

Burning in her chest. This flame not so familiar to her. Their lips broke apart and Aurvelle breathed in the fluid air, soothing the fire in her lungs. Footsteps drummed on a dirt path a hundred feet away from them, interrupting their reverie. Bellacia pulled Aurvelle to her feet and they slipped away into the forest.  

Pebbles and roots jabbed into the tender soles of Aurvelle’s feet. Bursts of pain that made her body recoil automatically in a startling, but delightful dance. She should watch where she stepped, but there were too many shades of rich brown, vibrant green, and golden yellows. Too much open sky that wrapped around her without the refraction of the ocean surface. She brushed the scales of a tree in wonder. Rough, but almost crumbly. A piece broke off and she squeaked and jumped back. The tree seemed to glare at her and she fumbled trying to put the wooden scale back on. Bellacia giggled and took it from her. 

“It’s okay. The bark comes off naturally.”  

“Bark?” Her voice sounded strange. A warbling intonation that faded from her mouth instead of trickling to the surface.  

Bellacia shook the scale illustratively. Aurvelle’s eyes lit up and she grabbed it back. Ah, bark! What remained of her netting clung to her body in tatters. She looped a strand around it, around the bark, and patted it fondly. Bellacia chuckled with a shake of her head. Aurvelle’s attention turned to Bellacia’s netting and guilt bubbled from her stomach. The netting Bellacia had worked so hard to adorn with shells she had so lovingly collected–destroyed. Aurvelle touched a torn section on Bellacia’s right shoulder. “I’m sorry…”  

Bellacia scooped up her hand. “Don’t be. I don’t need those things to show the world who I am.” She placed Aurvelle’s hand on her chest. “I’m me. Anyone who ever wants to know that will have to look with more than their eyes.” Her heart beat its defiance under Aurvelle’s fingers. A song she longed to listen to, to meet with her own, to fall asleep to.  

They journeyed into the forest as the sun slipped from the sky. Hidden away and huddled on a bed of leaves, they curled together. Her body, aflame with raw wounds, settled towards fitful rest. She listened to the leaves fall. To the insects hum. To the unusual clarity of sound she wasn’t accustomed to. Despite the deep fatigue that leached the strength from her bones, the wondrous symphony of the land kindled her imagination alight. She rested her head on Bellacia’s chest and listened to her breathing ebb and flow. She closed her eyes and the sound of the sea, deep within Bellacia, lulled her to sleep.  

***

Aurvelle wandered through the forest, buzzing from tree to stone to grass to flower. Even after a week, there was still so much to experience! Intricate designs that painted every butterfly’s wings, the life songs of the birds and death crunch of dried leaves, the succulent taste of fruit, and the joy of running. Weight! What a burden! Of all the treasures of the land, the most cherished was that unfelt. The ghost of the fire that once burned in her chest at all times. Now only ashes, long gone to dust.  

She spied a small tree, a bush, freckled with sweet orbs. Saliva and anticipation filled her mouth. She popped berry after berry into her mouth. The juice of a particularly plump one ran down her chin. Soon she’d had her fill. Oh fine, one more! She giggled and wrestled another into her mouth. Then she took her basket, made of woven roots, and filled it to the brim. Bellacia would love these! She hurried back through the forest towards their encampment.  

A whine froze her in her tracks. She rested the basket on the ground without a noise and slipped through the bushes to her right. A dog, its hindleg caught in one of the land-dwellers’ traps, growled at her. Sympathetic tears welled in her eyes at the sight of its bloody hindquarter. The dog limped a step away from her, dragging the trap, and collapsed. She clenched her fists. Poor thing, it must have broken the trap’s bonds and dragged the thing while it fled in terror. She edged towards the dog and it snapped at her.  

“It’s okay. I don’t want to hurt you.” There was that voice again. Her voice, so strange on land, not at all like how the native land-dwellers sounded. They were all so accustomed to the crisp notes of the air, instead of the echoing resistance of the water. She frowned in dissatisfaction and took a deep breath. An ethereal note resonated from within her, the soothing song that sometimes echoed through the ocean. The dog cocked its head to the side as the song washed over it. She offered her hand, sticky with sweet juice, to the dog. It licked her fingers, a small stroke of the tongue, and pulled its head back. Its ears perked up and it lapped up every morsel of ichor with enthusiasm. Its teeth nipped her fingers and a startled giggle interrupted her song. The dog’s tongue lolled out and she laughed and held out her other hand. After all juice had been replaced by a thin coat of saliva, she levered the trap open with a branch and the dog pulled its leg free. A trail of blood matted its fur down to the paw. The dog eased weight onto the leg and it trembled. A few steps and the dog turned about to face her. Without warning, it leapt up and licked the dried rivulet of juice from her chin. She fell back and burst out laughing. The dog barked and then disappeared into the forest. She retrieved her basket of berries and smiled the whole way back.  

Clothes made of woven vines wreathed Bellacia’s body, the same as Aurvelle. Bellacia flicked a berry into the air and caught it in her mouth expertly. Aurvelle slapped the flesh of her palms together, a wonderful sound of appreciation, and tried it herself. Things on land swam through the air, so predictable and yet so hard to tame. Everything always returned home to the ground. She sent several berries bouncing off her face and nose before they tumbled to the forest floor. The impact of the ripe berries felt like thick drops of playful rain. Bellacia hefted a berry and tossed it in a perfect arc towards Aurvelle. She caught it in her mouth and immediately shot it out with an excited shout. The berry bounced off of Bellacia’s cheek and they both doubled over in laughter. Bellacia reeled her in and wrapped her hands around Aurvelle’s waist. Aurvelle’s lips parted and she leaned in, but Bellacia stopped her.  

“I have something for you.”  

Aurvelle tilted her head to the side. Bellacia reached behind her and produced a tiara of flowers. Blood red, yellow as the golden sun, blue like the ocean. Aurvelle’s breath caught in her chest. Once, the flowers had been living, rooted in the rich soil, hungry for water. Now they thirsted for the promise of reciprocal beauty. Bellacia placed the crown atop Aurvelle’s hair. She pulled Aurvelle over to a basin of water fashioned from a hollowed ridge of wood. Aurvelle’s reflection shimmered back at her. Where shells once hung, green vines embraced her body. The wreath of flowers lent the beauty of the land to her. And she, born of the sea but made for the land, held their promise high. Yes, this woman in the water, she was truly of the land, for vines and flowers and dirt blessed her so. The flowers sat in expectation.  

Aurvelle scooped up the image contained in the water, fresh water, and splashed it over her face, baptizing herself in the fallen rain. Could she, too, be of the land? The water washed away the sins of the ocean. A flower in the sea would wither and dissolve. Its life would fade with no promise of beauty. She turned and drank Bellacia’s lips in. They flowed over each other as waves that crashed onto the shore. Bellacia of the sea pulled her to the ground and, for the first time, Aurvelle invited the ocean to wash over her. Their clothes tangled together as a discarded bed of vines. In Bellacia’s eyes, Aurvelle saw. The mirror of the freshwater had shown herself: Aurvelle, on the land. But in Bellacia’s eyes, she saw. A sight that would forever break her heart. In those green eyes, the truest mirrors, she saw herself: Aurvelle, of the land, swimming in a sea of green. Drowning in a sea of acceptance. So she let her heart break, let it crack open and let her love pour out. Bellacia pinned her down and kissed her to the earth. The warm land cradled her body and her chest starved for more. She pleaded Bellacia closer with frantic hands and desperate lips. The tiara of flowers tumbled from her hair and drank their fill of beauty.  

On the land, Aurvelle lay and, on the land, she loved. This was paradise. For her, this was paradise because she belonged in the green, lost in the green. Then why, in the cathartic silence that followed, did the green eyes that peered back at her not belong? Why did the green look so lost?  

***

Aurvelle’s body healed under the sun’s loving care. Its golden rays washed over her day after day and smoothed the grooves away, like the waves smoothed the disturbed sand. A thin line remained visible on the tanned skin of her right shoulder, the only reminder of the day, that day. 

She trekked through the forest with her basket full of berries, nuts, and mushrooms. Leaves and sticks crunched under her hardened soles like, like dry leaves and sticks did! Their shelter sprung into sight and excitement burst into her arms and legs. She broke into a run, her legs playfully rebuffing the ground in absurd defiance to gravity. Berries jostled out of her basket and dotted a colorful trail behind her. She gasped in sky to circulate the heavens through her body and barged into the shelter with a peal of laughter. Bellacia jumped in surprise and threw something behind her.  

“You’re back!”  

Aurvelle peered around Bellacia, but she shifted to the side guiltily, obstructing Aurvelle’s view. Bellacia hurried forward and took the basket from Aurvelle. “Oh great–I’m starving!” She spun Aurvelle and guided her out by the elbow. Once they left the shelter, the tension melted from Bellacia’s shoulders and spine. She smiled and flopped down on the grass, pulling Aurvelle to her in a kiss. They feasted on the foraged goods, the nuts making Aurvelle thirsty. She kissed Bellacia on the cheek and scampered into the shelter. 

“Wait!” She heard Bellacia spring to feet, but she kept searching. 

“I’m just getting some water.” She eagerly grabbed the basin of water as Bellacia burst into the shelter. Aurvelle laughed and turned to face her. Her eyes fell on a jumble of netting made of fibrous twine from dried foliage. Sleeves, openings for the neck, pants. Her chest constricted and a tendril of pain twinged along the pale scar on her right arm. She put the basin down and picked up the shell suit. 

Bellacia froze, panic in her eyes. After a second, she stepped towards Aurvelle. “It’s not what it seems!”  

She wanted to leave. Abandon Aurvelle and run to the ocean’s embrace. Wasn’t she happy here? Wasn’t she happy with her? The suit trembled in Aurvelle’s hand. Weight. So heavy. She dropped her arm back down and her chin fell. Yes, of course. Bellacia longed for the sea, she deserved the sea. And Aurvelle, she wasn’t of the sea. She wasn’t what Bellacia wanted.  

Bellacia lifted Aurvelle’s chin and cradled her face in her hands. “Come with me. Please. I want to be with you. Just…” 

Not here. She didn’t belong here on the land.  

“How can you think of going back? Don’t you remember what happened?”  

“I do. I remember their hate, hard like fists, and their fists, sharp like hate. They want to keep me from the sea, but they are nothing. Not compared to the oppression of the land. Every step I feel it, like dull knives in my feet.”  

Aurvelle’s chest ached in a phantom pain, almost long forgotten. Almost. 

Bellacia stroked her cheek. “I can’t stay here. Not on land. I don’t belong here.”  

Aurvelle kissed Bellacia with all her love. She kissed her to banish the pain, to make her stay. But Bellacia didn’t. For she was not of the land and never would be.  

***

Aurvelle cried because she was alone. Burning in her chest, different from the burning oppression of the sea. No, this was from an unbearably whole heart. Whole, when all she wanted was a broken heart to share.  

Bellacia moved to the edge of the forest closest to the outlook that Aurvelle had first seen her at. After a day, Aurvelle joined her. Maybe she could convince her to stay. But how could she? Was she really so cruel? Only a few more days. The petals from her flower crown drooped. Had they drank their fill? Aurvelle tossed one of the red blooms into the ocean. It floated atop the water, a piece of the land adrift. A wave pulled it under the surface. In only a few more days, Bellacia would complete the shell suit. Then the ocean would pull her under too.  

They didn’t talk of it and Bellacia kept the suit out of sight. It was present in every kiss, known in every caress. Aurvelle couldn’t see the suit, but didn’t need to. The urgency on Bellacia’s lips that night told her everything she needed to know.  

The next day, Bellacia carried her suit to the beach under the blazing eyes of the all-seeing sun. She’d don the suit in the water, her first act of full commitment to the sea. Why do it in the middle of the day? Wasn’t it dangerous, exposing herself so? Aurvelle had pleaded with her to just slip into the water in the cover of night. Bellacia refused. She couldn’t. After a lifetime of hiding, she couldn’t. A few land-dwellers surveyed the pair from a cluster of rocks at the water’s edge while they fished. Maybe to their eyes Bellacia merely looked like she prepared to cast a net into the ocean. Could they possibly conceive of her bravery? Aurvelle’s chest tightened. No. Their surprise would sour to disgust, anger.  

Aurvelle kissed Bellacia’s neck and wrapped her arms around her. Let them hate. The flowers on her head were close to withering away. But this they would witness. This act of courage, they would see. They shared a kiss that tasted of the ocean. And Aurvelle walked away. She couldn’t watch her disappear into the surf, couldn’t bear the ocean swallowing her up. At the edge of the water’s influence, she rested the crown on the moist sand. She continued up the beach and heard the land-dwellers gasp. The sand transitioned to a fine and powdery consistency. Feet pounding across the beach, indignant shouting. Dirt under her feet, sun high above, hate like wind at her back. Her breathing stilted, circulating anger through her body at their cruel words. But Bellacia would be okay. She had shouldered their ignorance, felt it coat her body for a lifetime. Soon, the ocean would wash it all away. Leave her cleansed.  

Their paths diverged here. Aurvelle looked deep into the forest. A well-trod path wound through the trees. Her path. She’d join the land-dwellers here. Or not. Maybe she’d move past them and find another home on the land with a different clan. But here in front of her, this path, was hers. She stepped onto it.  

A pained scream rode the ocean breeze and tore through Aurvelle. Primal fear stabbed through her heart and she spun around. No! Two of the land-dwellers ripped Bellacia back from the ocean. She struggled wildly, her arms flailing in desperate blows. One of the men caught her right arm and forced it down. The other whipped his fishing pole into her back, the thin rod splitting her skin to release another scream. He wrapped the pole around her neck and choked her. Her blood smeared into his chest as he dragged her from the haven of the sea. Her screams ceased as he blocked their outlet, bottling her pain in her agonized body.  

Aurvelle sprinted from the dirt, through the powdery sand, and onto the ocean-swept surface. Her legs pumped awkwardly but furiously, her feet smashing into the land against the oppressive curse of weight. The sea reached out to her and she kicked through it with an enraged scream. The man restraining Bellacia’s arm turned in surprise. She slammed all of her weight into him, ripping his hand free of her beloved oasis. They tumbled into the shallow water and Aurvelle broke free. Bellacia’s emerald eyes, full of hurt, sent hatred pounding through Aurvelle. She loosed another scream and pried the rod away from Bellacia’s windpipe. Bellacia rasped in the ocean air in a sob that was cut off as the man jerked the pole back. She slammed her head back and a fountain of blood erupted from the man’s nose. He stumbled back with a gurgling shout and released the pole.  

Hands ripped Aurvelle off of her feet and she crashed into the blood-tinged brine. She pushed up and a foot smashed into her ribs, lifting her bodily into the air. A silent scream died on her lips as her diaphragm spasmed and she starved for air. A wave crashed forward and salt water filled her open mouth. She curled into a ball and clutched at the stabbing pain in her ribs. The water receded and the man filled its place. He raised his foot and brought his heel down towards her eye socket. Wood blurred through the air and a crack resounded as Bellacia broke the pole on the man’s skull. He fell to the side, the skin of his temple split.  

Bellacia hauled Aurvelle to her feet, sending a stab of white-hot pain into her side. She stumbled forward, guided by Bellacia’s hand. Angry, pain-fueled, blood-thickened shouts assaulted them from behind. The water deepened, increasing the resistance of their escape. The ocean pushed against their legs then pulled them forward. A hand clawed into Aurvelle’s shoulder and she fell into the water. She blindly kicked her attacker off and plunged headlong into the ocean. Cool water flowed through her gills as she cut through the water. Bellacia dove forward into the waist-deep water and joined her. They flew through the sea, leaving the land and all its weight behind.  

The infuriated shouts from the land dimmed to a distant dream. A fading nightmare whose details decayed in the mind, but left a lingering unease. Aurvelle grabbed Bellacia’s hand. She recognized the area. They were near a common gathering ground and therefore unsafe. They swam over a ledge and the ocean floor fell away. Her vision filled with the bodies of the sea-dwellers. A ripple passed through their ranks and all attention turned to the pair. Their eyes, normally always on the floor scanning for shells, widened in shock as Aurvelle and Bellacia darted over them. Bellacia swam naked, her netting lost in the initial assault. Aurvelle’s vine-clad body drew far more confusion. She hung above them, speared by their growing malice. A form moved, a terribly familiar form. Confusion shadowed her father’s face. It slowly leaked away and a horrible understanding ebbed and flowed through his features. Disappointment, anger, disgust.  

No, please. Don’t look at me like that. Wasn’t she still his daughter?  

They fled from the persecution, from the undertow of collective hate. Her father’s strong arms pinned her hands behind her back. Bellacia screamed and struggled against her captors, but they ripped the two apart from each other.  

Her father never looked her in the eyes. Not when he handed her off to the clan. Not when the elders held her and Bellacia on trial. And not when she was sentenced to her people’s worst punishment. Death by hanging.  

***

The land-dwellers provided the cages. Wood lashed together with twine. It was a joint punishment, an allied display between those of the land and those of the sea. Aurvelle and Bellacia hung five feet above the ground, penned like animals in their separate cages. The heat of the hateful sun leached their strength without mercy. It baked into her raw skin, already red from the hours in the unforgiving inferno. How many days until death? How many more hours of pain? The sun would set, would turn its back on her, and she would writhe in the cage.  

Death was coming, though she’d never suspected it. And pain. Her tongue, dried and cracked already, might not allow any dying screams. Might crumble to dust in the arid hollow of her throat. Her cage swung only a few feet away from Bellacia’s. A cruelty. Close enough to see her through crusted eyelids. To see her curl around herself as if she could avoid the flogging of raw flesh by the unrelenting sun. As if it mattered whether she made it through the day. Or the next. Or the next. How long would they hang? They’d die in a few days, but how long would they hang? How long would the people stomach their bloated corpses for the sake of the warning?  

The sun set, though the pain didn’t. The waves lapped at the shore, ever eroding. Aurvelle let out a feverish whimper, the raspy sound of breath over her brittle vocal cords. If felt like they, like the vines of her suit that had been torn from her body, would dry out in the agonizing heat. They’d tauten and twist until they snapped. Bellacia stirred weakly at the noise. She strained against the wooden bars, the moonlight outlined her trembling arm as she reached for Aurvelle. Too far. They were close enough to see the other’s oblivion, but too far to touch. Even still, Aurvelle jerked her shoulder into the frame as she outstretched her own arm. The gallows swayed gently from the motion as if to rock her back to sleep. The wood creaked softly, a whispered reassurance: Rest now. I’ll hold you and never let go.  

They’d never be free. Or they already were. Green eyes, dry of tears, poured into her own eyes. The sea calling to her. Their fingertips, oceans away. If she could just touch her. Stroke her hand. Don’t be afraid, my love. She redoubled her efforts and rocked her body into the cage again. The wood creaked, not so politely this time. Angrily. How dare she? How dare she test its embrace? How dare she defy it?  

But she didn’t try to defy it. Her fingers clawed through the air. There would be no escape. She didn’t reach for hope. She didn’t reach for salvation. She reached only to reassure. Because she couldn’t stand seeing Bellacia so hurt.  

The night guard stalked over with his spear. He growled a warning, but Bellacia was in pain. If only she could touch her. He slammed the shaft of the spear into Aurvelle’s arm. The dry skin split, precious life dripped away, her fingers contorted, wind rasped over her thickened tongue, new pain broke the surface of her agony, she reached and reached.  

Bellacia roiled in her cage and it swung rebelliously. Her fingers shook from exertion, from dehydration, from desecration. They were oceans away, yet even the tide receded. The guard screamed at their defiance, damned their love, and pointed the tip of the spear at Bellacia’s body. The cages creaked and the wind screamed. The frame of their gallows rocked from the tumultuous storm of their broken bodies and they reached and reached.  

A feral growl and the tip of the spear plunged forward, ripping through the air. They were oceans away, but they reached and reached. The spear slid between the ribs of the cage. A scream rose from the sands like the heat long after the sun had set. The guard fell back, the spear bouncing off the frame and falling away. The moonlight combed through the dog’s fur and blood, like silver, glistened on its coat. The man flailed, punching the dog in its ribs. It let out a sharp cry and he threw it off him.  

Aurvelle rocked back and slammed her weight, WEIGHT!, into the confines of her cage. She reached and reached.  

The man grabbed his spear, but the dog lunged forward and sank its teeth into his left leg. The guard fell with another cry. A chorus of shouts resounded from in the forest in answer to his scream. Crashing, as bodies, like a tsunami, flooded through the forest towards them.  

The cages swung and Aurvelle screamed. Her vocal cords twisted and strained as her voice reached and reached. Blood dripped onto the moon-kissed sands. They were oceans away, but she, to tame, the stormy sea. Anything, anywhere. Her fingers touched Bellacia’s. Only for an instant.  

The sounds of coming death broke through the forest. The screams of men and women, thirsty for their vengeance. To sate the wound Aurvelle and Bellacia had dared inflict upon them.  

She smashed her weight, WEIGHT!, into the cage and reached and reached. Blood trickled down her arm on the upswing of the gallows, making her hand slick. The guard kicked the dog off and stumbled to the side. Aurvelle reached for Bellacia’s hand. Their hands clapped together, droplets of blood flung away. They pulled towards each other, their hands slipping. But no. She wouldn’t let go. Not now. Not ever.  

The guard stumbled and slammed into the base of Bellacia’s gallows. It rocked dangerously. Bellacia flung her other hand out and latched onto Aurvelle’s wrist. They were linked in flesh and blood. Aurvelle’s gallows wobbled on its base.  

More guards burst from the forest, a few hundred feet away, armed with spears and righteousness. They screamed in rage. Aurvelle screamed in love. She wouldn’t break. A wind swept from the ocean. At the edge of the forest, blades of grass bowed. Flowers watched to drink their fill of beauty. She was of the land. And she would not break.  

The dog howled and smashed its weight, WEIGHT!, into the base of Aurvelle’s frame. It careened and tipped past the point of no return. Bellacia clung desperately to her, the connection between them pulling her cage over as well. Their hands broke apart and they fell to the eternal sands, ever eroding. The cages screamed in pain as the collision obliterated their joints.  

The land-dwellers sprinted down the beach. They came to tear them apart. It was the way of the people.  

Aurvelle threw the fragments of the cage and her fearful soul to the side. The guard stumbled towards Bellacia, spear weakly gripped in his hands. Aurvelle grabbed a piece of wood and slammed it into the back of his head. He collapsed to the sand and the spear rolled away. The people of the land rushed over the beach like the tide.  

Aurvelle and Bellacia scooped up pieces of their oppression in their arms and fled for the trees. Aurvelle’s body felt weak, yet sick with adrenaline. They tore through the forest, hunted for their love. And still she ran. The land-dwellers filtered through the trees behind them, fanning out. Her breath, loud and traitorous, seemed to echo through the night. Bellacia led them through the foliage of her haunted past. They arced through the leafy kingdom, gradually leaving the land-dwellers further and further behind.  

At last, they erupted from the forest, a gasp spat out from the trees at the outlook where they had first met. In silence, they harvested the twine from the skeleton of their cages. They lashed the limbs together until a raft took form. The dog paced restlessly behind them, keeping watch. When Bellacia tightened the last of the wood together, Aurvelle faced the dog and held out her hand. It nudged past her offering and reared up its paws to her shoulders. It licked her face and she buried herself in the scruff of its neck. Then it disappeared, a silver ghost in the night.  

Bellacia held her and kissed her cracked lips. She tasted of the sea. They lowered the raft into the water as the land-dwellers closed in around them. Bellacia plucked a flower and placed it in Aurvelle’s hair.   

***

The loving sun shone down on Aurvelle’s tanned skin as she accepted the sky into her lungs. Her body, forgiven its transgressions by the embrace of time, stretched out on the drifting raft. She laid on her stomach and pulled herself so that her head extended over the edge. Her hands dipped into the cool water and were met by soft lips. Bellacia popped out from under the surface and twirled in the water to face her. They shared a kiss that tasted of the sea and land. With a smile, Bellacia disappeared back under the raft and continued propelling it forward through the infinite water.   

Aurvelle settled back to the center of the raft under the shade she’d built. In the distance, an island dotted the horizon. Too far to see the beach clearly, save gentle motion on its lips where the land kissed the sea. The motion could be the waves, ever caressing the shore. It could be the land, ever embracing the sea. But as they drew nearer, it almost looked like distant figures. Some emerging from the water to laugh on the land. Some diving from the grass to swim through the sea. It could be the merging of souls on the beach where two worlds ebbed and flowed in eternal harmony. From the distance, it wasn’t clear. But that’s what it looked like. 

She reached to her hair and pulled the flower from her hair. She let the wind carry it free and it floated to the sea. Bellacia’s hand broke the surface and placed a shell on her haven of land. A promise. The shell’s contours at ease, its ridges stood proud.  

For it was born of the land.