Traveler of the Void - Prologue Chapter 2 - Rassharō - The Sea Drifters

  Traveler of the Void

(Book 4 of the Guardian of the Spirit Series)

Author: Uehashi Nahoko

Translator: Ainikki the Archivist

 

Prologue - Wind Blowing from the Sea

Chapter 2 - Rassharō - Sea Drifters

   

     The ship lurched hard to the left all of a sudden, making a dozing Surina open her eyes wide. She could see the shadows of her father and younger brother in the dark. Her brother was still sleeping.

     "What happened?" Surina whispered to her father.

     Her father looked over at her, surprised. "You're awake?"

     They had caught a huge amount of santarai to sell for feasts on the island of Kalsh. Their ship had found harbor on the western inlet of the island. When they'd docked, they'd heard laughter, singing, and happy raucous wild parties, but sometime in the night the mood of the festivities completely changed.

     Surina and her family were not islanders. She'd been born aboard ship and spent most of her life on the sea; she expected she'd die at sea as well. Such was the life of a Rassharō, one of Sangal's nomadic sea drifters.

     Because the Rassharō lacked a defined home or homeland, the islanders considered them as lesser citizens than themselves. And it was true that the Rassharō had no home other than their boats. They also had no approved sanction by the Island Guardians to engage in trade. This meant the Rassharō had to sell their goods for cheap and acquire their own necessities more expensively—or risk the ire of the islanders and their Island Guardians.

     But the Rassharō were not discontented. They paid no taxes, unlike the islanders. They didn't ever have to hold their nose and tolerate living among people they despised. Pushing off, hoisting sail and crossing the sea with their close-knit families seemed a decent enough existence. Certainly, from their own perspective, no more comfortable way of life existed.

     In their hearts, the Rassharō considered themselves the Taora Yaltash Na: the true people of the sea. The islanders, especially the adult men, they sometimes considered brothers of the sea—Yaltash Shuri. But the Rassharō mainly considered islanders as Takka Dorura—island people.

     To be Rassharō was to know the ocean deeply and well, even out to seemingly impossible distances. It was to navigate constantly between the islands of Sangal's archipelago, learning the secrets of the sea. The Rassharō knew more secrets about the ocean than the islanders could ever imagine. That was their great source of pride.

     Despite this, the Rassharō did not spend all  their time at sea. Most Rassharō people, finding an island to their liking, would linger on or near that island for perhaps six months out of a year. Surina's family was on good terms with the people of Kalsh, so they spent about half of each year swimming and fishing with the island's people. Although Surina’s mother had passed away earlier that year, her family's custom of splitting time between the sea and the island had not changed.

     After her mother's death, Surina continued to sail the seas with her father, her ten-year-old brother Rashi, and her two-year-old sister Racha, but it had all felt unusually lonely. They had only recently returned to Kalsh to live and work among the others on the island for a while.

     Whenever Surina’s family docked on Kalsh, the islanders showed them nothing but kindness. Today they’d offered her family three shares of santarai and invitations to their feasts, but they had declined. The wind had carried the sounds of merrymaking toward their ship, but Surina hadn’t felt any desire to join the party. She’d stretched out comfortably on her sleeping pallet, lulled by the sound of singing voices.

     But then the singing had been interrupted, becoming disjointed before turning into wailing. The wailing was a lonely sound, like the echo of a whistle moving across the smooth waters of the sea.

     The change in the feast's mood worried Surina and her family. Her father whispered to her to wake the younger children. "We will leave the island at dawn," he said. "A Shigul Nasoi Ra has appeared."

     The Rassharō held their own festivals, much as the islanders did. According to the legends of their people, Rassharō children that became enthralled by the music at these festivals ran the risk of having their souls stolen and sent to the very bottom of an otherworldly ocean called the Other Sea. Once there, the children's souls would forget all sense of time and place and never return to their bodies on land. Children that suffered this fate were called Shigul Nasoi Ra, the children of the Other Sea.

     A Shigul Nasoi Ra was called the Eyes of the Nayugul Raita by the islanders, but to the Rassharō, the idea that the spirit of a Nayugul Raita would just crawl into the body of a helpless child was unthinkable.

     "We must sail to the confluence of the Sararō and Nogura currents immediately," Surina's father said. "Goddess of the sea, I offer thanks! Being in Kalsh tonight to receive this news is a gift of providence.

     "While the rumor of the Shigul Nasoi Ra spreads to the other islands, we'll have time to turn a huge profit. We'll stop by Nash to gather our family and friends and tell them the good news. We're going to be rich!" Her father's tone was brightly energetic.

     The Rassharō held many secrets among themselves. One of these was that at the appearance of a new Shigul Nasoi Ra, a huge school of jagō fish would appear at the conflux of the Sararō and Nogura currents. J agō were a fish even more delicious than santarai. Their bones glowed in the dark. Because of this, and because they were deep-water fish, they could usually only be fished at night; the difficulty of catching them and their rare flavor meant that they always sold for a high price. If they could use this opportunity to catch a lot of jagō , they might indeed become as rich as her father hoped.

     Surina beamed with joy, but then she thought of something. "Dad, who is the child that's become the Shigul Nasoi Ra?"

     Her father looked at her without speaking. Surina held her breath and hoped that her terrible premonition was wrong.

     "It was Eshana," he said. "It's...unfortunate."

     Surina sucked in a breath. Eshana! Calm, sweet Eshana... Surina loved her like a little sister. When she realized the Shigul Nasoi Ra was Eshana, her former happiness vanished in an instant.

     For three days after leaving Kalsh, their journey was blessed with fair winds.

     Surina's father called out from the helm. "Can you see the current? Look closely at the sea. I expect you'll notice the current's movement if you look for it."

     Sitting at the helm, Surina's father nimbly adjusted the sail to take better advantage of the wind. He lifted his hand above his eyes to block out the harsh light of the sun and focused his vision. His suntanned face was covered in deep wrinkles. He called out to the ten-year-old Rashi and taught him about the current.

     "The color there is a bit different," he said. "Can you see it?"

     Surina painted her face with a sunscreen of pulverized seaweed and half-listened to her father talk. No matter which island they sailed from, the deep untrammeled blue of the open ocean always revealed when they had come far from easy reach of land.

     But the ship was not defenseless. To her right were two ships, and to her left three more: companion vessels all sharing the same goal. This was a fleet helmed by Surina's uncles. Thanks to them, there was no need to fear being attacked by pirates this far from shore.

     The conflux of the Sararō and Nogura currents was not so very far away. Thanks to the winds that had blessed their journey thus far, they might reach their destination by sunset.

     Surina's little sister Racha was asleep in her arms, breathing deeply. Two ships had drawn in close to theirs, so their position in the fleet was fixed, stable, and safe. Despite this reassurance, their vessel seemed like nothing more than a leaf floating alone in the vastness of the empty ocean, waves drifting in as the sail flapped in the wind.

     Racha and Rashi had both suffered from seasickness that morning. They hadn't gotten used to the open water yet. But as the day had gone on, the two children seemed to forget that they had ever been seasick.

     Surina leaned against the side of the boat and turned her face to the sea. She felt the sudden sensation of something grazing across her face and dropped her gaze to the surface of the water.

     She didn't see anything strange, but soft breezes pushed up from the sea spray and tickled her skin. It was as if the ocean had lifted up a newborn baby and placed it onto the boat, and now that baby was breathing on Surina's face.

     She also realized that she could hear something. It wasn't the sound of the waves or the sound of her uncles' ships buffering them against the sea. Riding on the wind, a mysterious whispering echoed across the water.

     It couldn't be...the song of the Shigul Nasoi Ra?

     A chill went down Surina's spine. She hurriedly drew herself back from the side of the ship.

     "This is a fantastic breeze," her father said happily. "Almost like it's pushing us exactly where we want to go."

     "Dad," she called out in a trembling voice.

     Her father turned to face her. She struggled to calm herself down. "Dad, is the wind a child born from the sea?"

     "Why would you ask something like that?"

     Surina explained to her father what she had just experienced along the side of the boat. Her father gazed out at the sea, staring intently for a time before shaking his head.

     "I can't hear anything. I can't sense any child of wind, either."

     Her father smiled and looked at Surina. "You are so much like your mother. She was a wind reader. Sometimes, she'd be able to tell me when the wind was about to switch directions. 'In a little while, the wind will blow from the south.' That sort of thing."

     Surina remembered that her mother had indeed said things like that, often. As she recalled her mother's soft voice, the pain of loss welled up within her, rendering her mute with a feeling like fear.

     "Let's see...about your question before, I think you could kind of consider the wind to be like a child born from the sea. Just like the Shigul Nasoi Ra, children singing at the bottom of the sea, there are also Su Kon Ra, children born of the wind. Similarly, the santarai are the wind-calling fish, and the jagō are the wind-lured fish—fish that are invited to come out by the wind that the santarai call.

     "Think of it like this: whenever a Shigul Nasoi Ra appears, so does a huge school of jagō , right in the spot we are traveling to. It's like the Shigul Nasoi Ra gives birth to the wind, which in turn causes the jagō to appear."

     "I wonder if the wind was Eshana."

   "Maybe that's so. Poor girl. If she's becoming a child of the wind, she might do better to blow back to her own body before it gets dropped into the ocean." He paused. "You know your mother and I loved Eshana dearly. We often ate together with her and Yata..."

     An image of Surina's mother floated up before her eyes. She wanted to see her mother so badly that it ached. Suddenly, overwhelming feelings of love for her father, her brother, and her sister welled up inside her uncontrolled. She prayed fervently that they would be allowed to live together for a long time in peace and happiness.

     As the light of sunset spread across the horizon, Surina and her family arrived at the place where the cold Sararō current met the warm Nogura current. A huge number of birds whirled and swooped overhead and dived into the water—so many, it was hard to tell if some were real or imaginary, like figures in an optical illusion. Her father and Rashi let out cheers. Surina looked out at what had made them shout for joy.

     Many rivers flowed into the ocean. The jagō were carried here by of one of these rivers. Surina gazed at the huge school of fish below their ships, their spines glowing in the half-dark. It was the largest school of fish she'd ever seen. Ensconced in the warm Nogura current, the jagō swam together, occasionally spiraling in and out of the connected Sararō current.

     Surina felt the wind blow her hair back directly from her face. The wind didn’t come from the direction of the sail; it seemed to come up directly from the ocean, carrying with it a mysterious echo of the song she'd heard before.

     This wind must come from Nayugul and the Other Sea.

     The clamoring of the birds and the cheering voices of her father and brother vanished from her awareness, so that only the song was left in her heart.

     Then she realized something strange. As the wind from Nayugul passed over them, an ordinary sea breeze followed just after, as if the ordinary wind was trying to engage the wind from Nayugul in a game of tag.

     "Dad, the wind's blowing from the southeast."

     Just as Surina called out, the direction of the wind shifted—to the southeast, as she'd said. Her father hurriedly adjusted the sails. Then he looked at her with his eyebrows raised and laughed.

     Cheers rose from her uncles' ships. She wondered if they'd be able to catch the whole school of jagō with one throw of the nets. Not just that: she also wondered if it might be dangerous to draw in all the nets, full, at one time. Such a catch might be heavy enough to sink their ships. When she said these thoughts aloud, her father and uncles only seemed to get more excited.

     The ships cast their nets and set the pole fishers to work. Together with her friends and family, Surina started bringing in the catch. Jagō fell wriggling to the deck. Rashi screamed and cried and poked the fish with sticks until they were still. Surina joined her cousins as they hurriedly scooped fish out of full nets and pulled the empty nets all the way back up to the deck before casting them out again.

     By the time the sun had completely set, every ship in the fleet was practically buried in jagō .

     "Where will we sleep?" Surina asked.

     Rashi stared down at the deck with a dumbfounded expression. Surina’s father appeared exhausted, standing hunched with fish piled up past his ankles. "We...might have caught too much."

     The next day, the work of boning and drying their catch went on continuously from sunup until past noon. Surina washed the bones of the jagō in salt water, then wrapped them together with string, using extra care not to cut her hands on the sharp pieces. She worked almost constantly and in silence.

     When fatigue overcame her, she snacked on fresh slices of jagō that were rich with delicious oils even after she'd rinsed them in seawater. The tang of the salt drew out the sweetness in the flesh of the fish. The savory aftertaste lingered in her mouth.

     "J agō are so tasty!"

     When the work was finished, the fleet of ships, all full to bursting with processed jagō , adjusted course for the nearest market. Everyone was in high spirits. They'd undoubtedly be able to sell their catch for a high price.

     "With all the money this will bring in, I could probably buy a new ship," Surina's father said brightly. From here, the nearest market on the island of Rasu was a two-day journey in good weather. If the wind turned toward the north, though, they'd need to be careful not to get blown off-course. They had to use care to keep their catch in the freshest possible condition until they reached Rasu.

     While the ships were rounding the cape of an uninhabited island, tragedy struck.

     It was near sunset. The island before them was barely visible and shrouded in blue mist. Surina's uncle Sago's ship, along with another uncle's ship, were tacking a bit behind her father's. From some distance away, she saw her uncle Sago's ship skillfully round the tip of the island's cape.

     Surina heard raised voices as her uncle's ship began to turn toward her father's vessel.  She looked on in confusion as her uncle was blown forcibly off the deck of his ship and into the water with a huge splash.

     Surina and her family leaned over their ship's guardrails, trying to see what had happened.

     Perhaps she'd just imagined it, but she thought she'd seen a bright light shine over her uncle's shoulders just before he'd fallen into the water. The moment that thought crossed her mind, the shadow of a huge red ship came into view beyond the cape.

     The ship rounded the cape and came closer, revealing an enormous prow and a red hull that bordered on gold in the low light of evening. A Sangalese merchant ship. It was not really so huge as ships went, but it was at least ten times the size of Surina's family's vessel.

     Along the sides of the merchant vessel, Surina made out the shadows of soldiers standing in rows. The metal tips of their arrows gleamed in the last light of sunset.  

     The wind blew fiercely. Surina heard the tight-wound sounds of the merchant ship as it strained to move against the wind's direction.

     And then, she heard her uncle scream.

     The Sangalese merchant ship was attacking them—but why?

     "Jump into the water!" her father yelled. He was as stiff and still as if he'd turned to ice. Rashi clung to his legs. Her father peeled him off and hoisted him up into his arms before tossing him overboard.

     Then he rushed over to Surina, taking Racha from her arms before slapping her with an open palm.

     "Don't freeze! Jump!" His gaze flicked from Racha back up to her.

     Thunk.  The sound of something hitting the ship. Thunk thunk thunk.

     Arrows.

     One by one, the arrows connected to the side of the ship, piercing its hull.

     "Jump! Don't think about us! Only think about saving yourself!"

     The enemy merchant vessel drew steadily closer. Arrows fell like rain around them. Surina and her father instinctively flinched and ducked their heads.

     Her father groaned softly. Surina lifted her head to look at him and saw an arrow in his shoulder. Trembling, Surina grasped her father's shoulder and attempted to pull the arrow out, but her father pushed her away. Racha was crying as if a fire had broken out.

     "Jump," her father commanded. "Dive deep into the water, deep enough for the arrows not to reach you, then swim to the islands. Only you can save yourself!"

     Surina choked back a sob, but forced herself to stand up straight. Then she kicked off the deck and jumped into the cold sea. Freezing water slammed into her face like a slap. She didn't dive, but poked her head carefully out of the water, then moved in the direction of her brother, who was crouched on the ship's hull.

     "Leave us! Dive! Get away!" Her father's shout echoed in her ears. She heard the whizzing of another volley of arrows above her head.

     Surina took a deep breath, then dived.

     She wondered if she'd be able to take enough breaths to keep swimming if she stayed submerged deep enough to avoid the arrows. No matter how skillfully or deeply she dived, she doubted she'd be able to make it all the way to the islands just by swimming. And if she miscalculated and surfaced in a dangerous spot, she'd be fodder for the archers.

     In order to avoid the detection of the archers, she would have to swim a farther distance than they might guess before she tried to surface.

     At that moment, Surina remembered that she could ride the current—if she could find it—and swim much faster than the enemy ship would think. It was a gamble; she might wind up dying hopelessly far from any shore. Many people before her had been involuntarily sucked into currents and died that way. She and the other Rassharō children had always been cautioned to avoid currents when swimming, but now she thought to try entering one deliberately—to cross a longer distance in a shorter amount of time.

     I won't swim toward the islands,  she thought.  Any inhabited islands I know of are too far for me to reach just by swimming. And besides, the soldiers will assume I'd swim toward the islands. She would assume it if she were them.

     Still under the water, Surina began swimming in earnest, seeking out the current with her whole body. After swimming for just a short distance, she felt a strong pull and deliberately slipped herself into the flow of the current.

     It was a miracle that she'd escaped so far with her life. She was certain that the soldiers would be on the lookout for her between her family's ships and Sangal's islands, but she doubted they'd think to look for her on an uninhabited island far from her family or any people.

     She broke the surface of the water for air. In the distance, she could just make out the huge merchant vessel towing five smaller ships behind it on lines. She could not tell if her father or any of her family still lived.

     Surina watched the merchant vessel shift direction toward the opposite side of the cape. Then, still crying, she swam in long overhand strokes toward the uninhabited island.

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