Sunset of the Wandering Souls

I sat cross-legged, following Pili’s lead as he introduced me to the Chief of the Aeces. I ate cooked fruit for the first time; that I was certain of, the taste of the pineapples and bananas with a hint of smoke was something I knew I’d never had before. The children had given me a crown of flowers to hide the ugly bandages on my head. I had wanted to go into the ocean to play with them and experience such a vast body of water in the ways they would teach me. Pili told me that could wait, meeting the tribe head was of more importance.

Chief Lono handed me a bowl filled with a milky, whitish brown liquid. I sipped at it, mimicking what Pili was doing. It tasted bitter and like the earth, and made my mouth feel numb. I sat the bowl in front of me, not wanting to drink more of it than I wanted to. “You’re the one who doesn’t remember his tribal name, correct?”

“Uncle,” Pili said, gripping his own bowl tighter, “you don’t need to question Ezollen immediately.”

“He’s one of the flighted, he can handle it.” Chief Lono eyed me, and I brought my gaze down to the grass. “There’s only a handful of tribes he might belong to.”

Pili let out a large, frustrated sigh. “Uncle, I will not let you put him on a boat and hope he makes it to Port Riverwhistle. What if he’s important to his tribe?” I glanced up at him where he had his eyes locked on his uncle.

“If he were so important he wouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

I placed my hand on Pili’s shoulder to get him to stop. If anything, I should be the one to prove myself to Chief Lono, not have Pili do it on my behalf. But Chief Lono was right, if I had been so important, I probably would have been forced to stay with my tribe. “We’ll finish this later, Uncle.” Pili grabbed my hand from his shoulder, standing to lead me off into the jungle.

He was too agile walking paths filled with rocks, branches, roots. He knew where to step from years of roaming this jungle path, while I bumbled behind him, hoping he wouldn’t let go of my hand and leave me to die in the overgrowth. It was a sight the minute he brought me out of the jungle: large pools of water with steam slowly rising off them stood in front of us. I was agape, not noticing Pili had stripped and dove in until I was splashed with warm droplets by a purple and blue silver tinted fin. He soon surfaced with his hair sticking to his face, and I sat at the water’s edge, letting my feet dangle into it, a little scared of getting into something I didn’t know if I could stand in.

Pili came up by my side, leaning on the ground and letting his tail float up to the surface. It practically sparkled in the light, glittering purple and blue with tones of silver. It was absolutely gorgeous, and I couldn’t keep myself from reaching out and touching the firm scales. It was real. It was marvelously real, just how my tail and horns and wings were.

“I’m sorry about earlier with my uncle,” he said, playing with the tip of my tail. “I told him my intentions to travel when I come of age and now he thinks anything that comes out of my mouth is a bad idea.”

“Travel where?” I asked.

“All over.” He held my tail close to his face. “I’d like to see the world before I take over for Uncle.”

I kicked at the water. “I’d like to come,” I said, looking at my legs. “I don’t remember where I belong, and I want to figure it out.”

“I’d like that,” he said. “I’ll convince my uncle somehow.”

I didn’t know what Pili had said to his uncle, but we were to leave a few days after their conversation. My head had healed up enough he didn’t need to change bandages anymore, but a scar adorned my forehead under my red bangs. He gave me the clothes I had appeared in to change into in case someone at Port Riverwhistle would recognize me. I looked at myself in the water’s reflection, trying to see if the white shirt with ruffled sleeves, or the light rose red pants tucked into black boots would spark something in me. I only realized how warm they were in the sun, and the strong sea breeze had my wings flapping out to keep me grounded in the sand.

It was to be a three-day boat ride to the port, a perfect amount of time, Pili had told me. It allowed for ample selling of some of the Southern Isles’ fruit before it spoiled, of which we took with us in addition to other goods we could sell. We were to pay our way around the tribal lands, that was one of the conditions Chief Lono had set for Pili. The other was that he’d only have a year. A year to see whatever it was he wished to see, and to help me remember who it was I was supposed to be. Then, he was to be back on Ukicho to prepare to take over for his uncle and help in governing the rest of the tribes that made up the Isles.

The send-off wasn’t as grand as Pili’s coming of age festivities. It was filled with emotion as he hugged friends and relatives, promising he’d be back and unharmed. He was given jewelry of necklaces made of shells and pearls, and earrings of hooks. An older woman painted his face and arms in white markings. Final goodbyes were said, and Pili pushed the boat into the water while I did exactly what he had told me to do before our leave. It was a single thing, but an important thing if we were to reach Port Riverwhistle in time: I was to angle the sail just so to catch the wind as he pushed us from shore. The beam the sail rested on was heavy and I used all my strength to push it, securing it when the wind blew into it with force. I helped Pili climb aboard the platform after my job was complete.

We had fair weather for that three-day voyage. The trickiest part was keeping us heading north with the help of the wind. When it died down and fearing we’d be dead in the water, I fed the sail some by flapping my large wings, or Pili would dive overboard and push the boat a ways. But we made it to port, docking near boats that looked similar to ours, the only difference being the symbols woven into the fabric of the sail. I had asked him what the symbols represented while we unloaded our cargo. They were identifiers, he told me, each island of the Isles had their own. Our ship held a spiral reminiscent of pearls, the major export of Ukicho. There were shells, fish, fruit, and the like on other boats we passed.

Pili had been to Port Riverwhistle once or twice when he was young. I followed him to the markets with the end of my tail wrapped around his wrist to keep us from getting separated. The further we got from the harbor, the busier and more crowded the streets became. The markets themselves were filled with people in all sorts of different outfits with all sorts of different physical qualities, pushing against each other and Pili and I as we made our way to his tribe’s usual stall. I tightened my tail’s grip on Pili’s wrist, as well as keeping a stronger grip on the boxes I was carrying.

I set the crates I had in my arms down on the stall’s counter next to Pili’s, letting go of him as he went to the other side. I helped him unpack our wares and set the stall up to be opened when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around me. “Thank mercy, I found you, Ezollen,” they said. I started struggling against them, but they only held onto me with more force. “Your mother will have my head if anything were to happen to you.” They swiftly turned me around, firm hands brushing at my face, tracing at the scar on my forehead. “What happened here?”

“Who’re you?” I asked him, finally getting free of his grasp. I made my way behind the stall for some form of protection while I eyed the man with large horns angling above his head.

“Stop joking, Ezollen.” He placed his hands on the stall’s counter, leaning forward and opening rather large black, leathery wings that blocked the view onto the street. “I don’t know where you learned to act like this since you disappeared, but it’s not amusing.” He grabbed at my wrist, keeping me from retreating further to where Pili was. “We need to leave now if we’re to make it to the Interior in time.”

I pulled against his hand and tried to pry his fingers off me. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I fell down, hitting my head against the floor as I told him I didn’t know who he was.

Pili’s face appeared over mine, he opened his mouth to speak, begun to offer his hand to me, only to be stopped by the man’s words of, “Don’t touch him, you vermin of the sea. Don’t you know who he is?”

Pili helped me up anyway. “Unless you’re planning on buying from us,” he said, “please leave. We’ve no business otherwise.”

“No business? He’s in my care!” He stuck his finger in my direction. “Ezollen, stop this now so we can leave.”

“I don’t remember you,” I said. “I don’t know who you are.” I covered my face with my hands, trying to scour my blank memory for a glimpse, the tiniest bit of information on this pink haired man.

“What do you mean? I raised you. How could you forget me?” I felt Pili’s hand rest on my head, soothing me as he had done during my feverous bought. He begun to softly explain to the man what had happened to me, how I could only remember my name. “Ez…Ezollen, it’s Innin.” I brought my head from my hands to look at the worry etched into his face. He tucked his wings back to reveal a handful of men dressed in metal. “Come over here, it’s disgraceful to see someone of your stature next to one of the gilled.”

I didn’t move from Pili’s side. “Let him be. He clearly sees no harm in being friends with me.”

Innin turned his attention back to Pili. “You will let him go, or I’ll have to charge you for kidnapping the Prince of the Reissu and keeping him from performing his duties at his Blue Moon Beautillion, which we’ll be late for if we don’t leave now.”