The Sea Princess and the Fire Elemental

 

            Once upon a time, long, long ago in a place not so far away, there lived a sea princess. She lived alone in an underwater tower, far from her foul-tempered father, a giant so huge he lived far out in the ocean, where the water was deep enough for him to swim comfortably. The princess's tower was of ivory stone, to which orange and purple starfish clung. Fish drifted like birds through the arched marble windows, and the princess often swam out to join them, or float past the billowing jellyfish and playful seals.

            Sometimes she would rise to the surface of the sea in the morning, when she could see winged women, scarcely bigger than children, fluttering among the sea birds in the sky. Other times, when her distant father was quarrelling with his brother the sky king, the seas would boil with foam and towering waves would surge and crash down upon the fragile boats of the land-people. The sea princess pitied the gasping, flailing men who fell down through the water, and made it her hobby to rescue them. She would bring them back to the surface herself, or call upon the seals and dolphins to help carry the injured men to shore, where she would drag them, one at a time, up onto the beach. How strange they looked, these land-people— various shades of brown and taupe, like the earth itself, with hair and body-fur to match, black or brown or pale yellow.

            Her own people were the colour of the sea: blue and green or purple, men and women both weaving kelp or seashells into their long, waving hair. The princess herself had pale blue skin and dark, sea-green hair, and wore a string of iridescent pearls around her slender waist. She had a few friends among the mer-folk: Chamira, who fished for eels with silver nets; Upala, who lived in a coral cavern and wrote strange books on magical paper by the phosphorescent light of sea-fire; and old Gelan, who had travelled widely in his youth and could tell stories for hours on end. She saw these friends infrequently, for mer-people tended to live very far apart from each other.

            The sea princess was generally happy, visiting her friends or swimming with the sea-creatures, if somewhat lonely. Despite her gills and webbed fingers and toes, the sea princess was a woman, and often longed for company of a different sort. Still, all in all, her life was a pleasant one, and the princess swam to and from her ivory tower, reasonably content.

            One afternoon, as she floated lazily with the seals, the princess caught sight of a intensely glowing yellow light on the shore, very far away.

            "What is that thing?" she asked the seal closest to her. "Can you see?"

            It wrinkled its muzzle and frowned.

            Like nothing I've ever seen before, lady, it replied.

            "Let's go see what it is!" the princess declared, but the seals hesitated.

            It's too bright, one of them complained.

            It smells like burning, ugh, cried another.

            It's too strange, lady. I'm frightened.

            The sea princess sighed.

            "Very well, then— I'll go by myself. I'm not afraid."

            She turned away and began to swim toward the mysterious light. Something bumped her ankle. It was the youngest seal.

            Princess, I'm not afraid either, it panted bravely, if not entirely truthfully.

            "Come on, then," she said, and they swam toward the shore.

            As they drew closer, the bright object slowly came into focus,  resolving into what looked like a ship with no mast, and a pair of huge dolphins- no, it was a huge golden chariot, to which a pair of enormous, flame-coloured horses were harnessed. In the chariot stood a figure so bright she couldn't look directly at him— a man, the princess thought, broad-shouldered and well-muscled, but it was hard to be sure.

            They were within several hundred meters of the shore when the crack of a whip shot through the air. The huge flaming horses reared and leapt upward, drawing the chariot up into the sky like a comet, and as it passed, the very air shook with the thunder of hooves and creaking wheels. The seal pup cowered under the water, and the sea princess did her best to comfort it, disappointed. So close, to have the mystery vanish... but wait.

            On the shore was another figure. As her dazzled vision cleared, she saw it was an ordinary land-person, albeit one with something of a resemblance to the charioteer. He had pinkish skin and reddish hair, like the colours one sees in the sky at sunset.

            The sea princess swam in closer to shore.

            "Hello," she called. The man on shore started visibly, looking around.

            "Over here," she called again, and waved. He came as close to the edge of the water as he could without actually touching it. Behind him, where the burning chariot had stood, was a wide circle of flattened and scorched earth.

            "Hello," he called back. His voice was a pleasant tenor. "Hey, aren't you cold?"          

            Cold? The princess laughed.

"Of course not. What was that thing on the shore with you? And why didn't you get burned?"

            He smiled. "That was my father's chariot. And I didn't get burned because I'm a fire elemental."

            She gaped at him, and he laughed. "It's going to be my chariot soon," he called, cheerfully. "In a few weeks, matter of fact, just as soon as I've undergone my transformation."

            "Transformation?" The sea princess was fascinated. She had heard vaguely of the fire people, but had never met one before.

            "Yes... I'm, well. It's sort of difficult to explain. Are you bound to the water, or can you come up on the beach? It's easier if I don't have to shout."

            There was a splash and a squeak next to her. She had forgotten about the seal pup.

            "You wait here," she told the little pup. "I'll be back in a little while."

            But princess— won't you dry out?

            "Not if I'm back in time. Good point, though." She glanced up at the sky. The sun had begun to set; the western clouds were tinged with pink and yellow.

            "I promise I'll be back before the sun sets," she told it.

            That will be hours! the pup moaned, and the princess rolled her eyes.

            "You're free to leave whenever you want," she told it, and ignoring its squeaks of protest, she splashed her way up onto the shore.

            He was very handsome, the princess noted, and suddenly grew aware of her own appearance. The tiny pink shells plaited into her hair were tangled, and the string of pearls she wore around her slim waist had somehow caught a frond of kelp.

            "Ah," the elemental looked away, then back again, suddenly bashful. His deep red hair was not as long as hers, falling in curls only to his shoulders, but it seemed thick and soft. He cleared his throat, and smiled.

            "My name is Vadriel."

            "And mine is Sustenia," the princess replied. Vadriel's cheeks had become somewhat pinker than they had been—

            "Does it bother you that I'm not wearing clothes like yours?" Sustenia asked, flipping her long dark hair back over her shoulders. A few wet strands clung to her small, high breasts.

            "Ah, no, not at all," Vadriel smiled wryly, and took a deep breath. "Forgive me, it's just that, well... oh, never mind. Shall we sit down on that rock over there?"

            Once they had settled, Vadriel explained.

            He had been born on land, as all fire elementals are, and throughout his childhood lived much like the land-dwelling people, save that he could start fires without tinder or flint, and never needed a cloak for warmth. As he grew older, he began to change, until when finally, on the day of his transformation, he would be able to cast aside his current body, and step forth, bright and powerful, a creature of pure energy.

            "And then I'll join the sun charioteers, and assume my father's duties," Vadriel said, happily. "But what about you? I've never seen anyone blue, like you, before. Where are you from? And what was that creature you spoke to, in the water?"

            And so Sustenia told him, about the seals and the fish, the ivory tower, about her father's temper and the men who would fall from their boats, drowning, who she would drag back up to the surface for a second chance at life.

            "That sounds so heroic," Vadriel breathed, his dark eyes shining. "Sad, too. The sea sounds so beautiful... Do you ever get lonely, living there by yourself?"

            Sustenia smiled. "Oh, not really," she lied. "The sea is full of all sorts of creatures. It would take a lifetime to see them all."

            "I wish I could see them," Vadriel said wistfully, staring out at the waves lapping the shore. In the distance, the seal pup splashed, fitfully. "Or at least, a few sea-creatures, underwater." He explained: he couldn't spend more than five minutes or so submerged in water without growing cold and eventually dying. Once he was transformed, he wouldn't be able to touch the water at all.

            "Water quenches fire, I was told," he sighed. "It takes a long time and a lot of heat to evaporate the water in a bucket, but even a very small bucket can put out a burning torch, almost instantly."

            Vadriel asked how she could sit here and breathe the air, and yet avoid drowning in the water. She showed him a pair of long, curved slits on her neck, explaining that these opened up in the water, exposing gills which emptied oxygen directly into her bloodstream. From there, the conversation wandered; they talked about all sorts of things— favourite foods and childhood adventures, and the strange or beautiful places each had been to and would like to show the other.

            So engrossed was she in conversation that Sustenia almost did not notice the setting of the sun. The sky was dark; it had set some time ago. She sat up with a start. Her throat was dry; her skin felt tight, and when she stood, she felt sick and dizzy. Stupid, to ignore the warning signs...

            "Sustenia?" Vadriel spoke, next to her ear. Hands touched her shoulders, steadying her.

            "I'm sorry," she replied," I have to go now— I'm drying out. I need to get back to the water."

            The hands remained on her shoulders. The skin was warmer and of a different texture than her own, not unpleasant. An arm across her back turned her gently, toward the waves.

            "Will you come back tomorrow?" Vadriel was saying. She nodded, stumbling toward the water; the hands receded. She sank to her knees in the welcoming surf, crawling along the sand until she was able to swim again. The seal pup was where she had left it, and nearly apoplectic.

            I was calling and calling, it huffed, and you just sat there with that stupid-looking man creature. Sustenia put her arm around the seal pup, too tired to look back or wave goodbye to Vadriel, and let it help propel her home.

 

            The next day, the sea princess went through her drawers of jewels and combs and seasilk scarves; she tried on strings of emeralds and rubies, sapphires and pearls, choosing one, then discarding it, choosing another, and discarding that as well. She plaited and re-plaited her long green hair, and paced back and forth in her ivory tower, scattering schools of silver fish. She could not stop thinking about him- Vadriel, with his electric eyes and fiery hair, who could never set foot within her home without dying first. The sea princess didn't know whether to laugh or cry— to feel this way about a man she could never have, a man who would, within a couple of weeks, be lost to her forever.

            Fool, fool— she ought to spend this day resting, swimming among the sunken wrecks, or playing with the fishes. Instead, she swam toward the shore, to her meeting place with Vadriel.

            He was there, as she had hoped he would be, pacing back and forth along the beach. He caught sight of her and smiled, brilliantly.

            "Sustenia!" He splashed into the surf this time to meet her, the princess noted, and for some reason this made her happy. "Are you all right? I was so worried."

            She smiled back. "Nothing that water and sleep could not cure."

            "How long can you stay now?" he asked, anxiously.  Sustenia squinted up at the late afternoon sun. "Until sunset, probably, as long as I remember to go back into the water every so often."

            Vadriel agreed that this was a sensible idea, and set out an hourglass to keep track of the time. He had spread a blanket on the beach by a log, close to the edge of the water.

            That afternoon was one of the happiest the sea princess had ever experienced. Vadriel had brought with him a picnic lunch of strange and delicious foods, many of which Sustenia had never tasted before. There were fruits and cheeses, smoked fish and a bottle of fine red wine. They conversed on all sorts of topics, as they had the day before. When the hourglass ran dry, Sustenia would saunter back into the water and swim about, occasionally waving or kicking her long slender legs out of the water, partly to let him know where she was, and partly to show off her swimming ability.. She would emerge refreshed, and although water droplets cascaded from her smooth bare arms and thighs, Vadriel did not recoil from them.

            The sun was again beginning to set when she came out of the water once more, and stretched out next to Vadriel. He handed her a glass of wine, and they both looked out at the ocean. For a time they merely sat in silence, looking out at the rippling waves and the reds and pinks and yellows of the sunset, one last redly glowing glimpse of the charioteers, Vadriel's father among them, swinging slowly out of sight beyond the horizon. A flock of geese flew past, honking faintly, silhouetted against the western light.

            "That's where you'll be, soon," Sustenia said, softly.

            "Yes," Vadriel murmured. He sighed, then hesitantly placed a hand on hers.

            He was trembling, she noted with surprise.

            "Vadriel— are you ill?"

            "No," he replied, carefully placing his glass of wine in the sand.

            "Sustenia—" he paused, swallowed, looked away. She put her own glass of wine aside. What was it? Was something wrong?

            "Ah, hell. No, nothing's wrong— it's just that, well, you're kind and intelligent, and you're also," his electric eyes raised to meet hers, "absolutely gorgeous."

            Oh, she thought. Oh. Oh.

            He touched her cheek, gently.

            "I thought your skin would be cold, or clammy, but it isn't- you're warm," he marvelled, "and smooth, like a leaf in the sun—"

            He stopped, and looked out to sea. Wonderingly, Sustenia watched his pulse, pounding at his throat; she reached out with her long fingers to touch the warm skin there. She couldn't think; there was only the pounding of her own heart, so much like his, and the beginning of a deep, sweet ache—

            "Sustenia," he whispered.

            She looked at him, this strange man with his lean strong body and burning hair, and his expressive, exquisite dark eyes.

            "Yes," she said, simply, and laughed. She raised her lips and kissed him. Together they pulled away his silly land-clothes; as she had suspected, Vadriel's body was taut and muscular. She stroked him, wonderingly, not entirely sure what would happen next. Vadriel bowed his head and licked away stray droplets of water from her breasts, cupping them in his hands; his hot toungue flicked the tip of one blue nipple, then another. His hands slid down her stomach to her slender thighs, and his tounge followed, circling, flicking in and out of her navel, moving downward, down further still-

            She gasped. The hot tongue speared her; it flickered and tickled, agonizing and exquisite. She cried out, and he raised his head.

            "Not just yet," he murmured. Sustenia felt liquid between her thighs, a slippery slick wetness that grew chill in the night air. Vadriel guided her hands down the length of his body, and Sustenia stroked him gently, curling her fingers around the hard shaft of his manhood. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, flicked her toungue around it, this strange warm rubbery thing, with its sweet smoky taste.

            With one swift motion, Vadriel withdrew and lowered her to the sand. He filled her completely— her whole body burned while he was within her, her lips and nipples, even the soles of her feet grew hot. He surged like the tide, moving back and forth, up and down, his buttocks clenching with each downward thrust. Heavy sweetness filled her, burning, mounting, until all the could do was arch her body and scream, filled with heat and light pouring forth from him in a torrent of stars...

           

            She awoke in moonlight, cradled in his arms, the surf lapping around them both. His skin was cool to the touch, almost cold.

            "Vadriel?" she murmured, sitting up. He let go of her, stiffly.

            "Y-you were d-drying out again," he explained, through chattering teeth. He managed to look sheepish. "I d-didn't want to let g-go—"

            "Oh, my love—" For the first time in her life, Sustenia wished she didn't belong to the sea. She would give anything to spend the night with him, in his arms, but sleeping on land would kill her— and sleeping in the water would kill him.

            Sustenia helped her lover up to the beach, and, after wrapping him in the blanket, gathered driftwood for a fire. Vadriel made a fist around the smallest piece and frowned. A moment later, smoke curled up from his palm; the wood had caught fire, and was burning steadily. He placed it among the branches Sustenia had piled for him, and lay back on the sand, exhausted.

            The fire made Sustenia's skin hurt— she much preferred the phosphorescent sea-fires of her home, which gave a pale, greenish light but no heat. She waited until her lover had warmed again, then kissed him, and left him sleeping on the beach.

 

            She returned the next day, and the next, and each was much like the last- they took turns bringing food and drink, and would spend the day and part of the night picnicking on the beach, conversing or deliciously making love. Each night they slept apart, she in her tower, he in a castle, high atop a hill. Sustenia had never been happier, yet her heart grew heavy as the days wore on and the time of Vadriel's transformation grew closer. His skin, already quite warm, grew warmer; at night, his skin seemed to glow, very slightly. They both knew what these changes meant, but neither one of them wanted to broach the subject.

            They spent their last day together furiously making love, tearing at each other fiercely, hungrily. As the sun set and the stars came out in the sky, they fell back, exhausted, and nestled together for one final time.

            "The ceremony takes place over there," Vadriel pointed to the north, where a large hill loomed black against the sky. "There's a short ritual, conducted by my father's priests, and then I drink a potion. Sort of a catalyst, I've been told. I die, or at least, this physical part of me dies; then I step out of this skin."

            Sustenia stroked him, privately grieving. He would not even carry with him the flesh she touched now. She would never be able to touch him like this again.

            "I'll watch," she told him. "Not from close by, but I will watch."

            "You don't have to, you know," he murmured, smoothing a green tendril of hair back from her cheek. "I'll understand."

            "I want to know what happens to you," she replied. " I want to see you... as you leave."

            They were silent, for a long while.

            Finally: "I don't want to do this," Vadriel said, bitterly. "It's been everything I've ever looked forward to, all my life— all I've ever wanted, until now."

            Sustenia put a finger to his lips. "We both knew it couldn't last," she said softly. "I am so glad I met you, and knew you, even if only for a little while." Tears streaked down her cheeks; she couldn't hold them back. "I will always love you, Vadriel. Always."

            He held her, tightly. "And I, you. If only I were—"

            "Shhhh."

            She would miss him, would miss him horribly, and yet she knew that this night, like all the rest, she could not stay with him. Already her skin was tightening, and her mouth felt dry. He needed to sleep, as well— the next day would be difficult for him, to say the least. Sustenia closed her eyes, summoning the peaceful song of the ocean.

            "Sleep, my love," she sang to him, very softly, brushing away her tears. "Sleep, and dream of beautiful things, my love, sleep," His eyes began to close, slowly. "Know this, Vadriel," she whispered in his ear. "I will miss you, always. I will never forget you. If you ever wish to see me again, look for me in the ocean— I will watch you rise at dawn, each morning, I promise."

            When Sustenia laid him down he was peacefully asleep. She paused for one final, moonlit look, then slipped quietly back into the ocean.

 

            She was back in the harbour before the sun rose, with a spyglass rescued long ago by Gelan from a shipwreck. She aimed it toward the tall dark hill where Vadriel's transformation was taking place. The torchlit ceremony was already underway; she could see priests in yellow robes tossing sacred herbs into a golden bowl. One of them began to read from a book, and while he read, the others were still. Vadriel knelt, naked, upon a slab of granite, his skin glowing softly with its own light. The priest looked up and closed his book. As the sun began to rise behind her, Vadriel was given the golden bowl. He stood, and looked toward the east.

            Sustenia bit her lip, waiting.

            Behind her, the glow of the rising sun intensified; any moment now, she thought, any moment, and he will drink—

            Vadriel raised the bowl to his lips.

            Oh, please, Sustenia prayed. Please-—

            There was a moment, a split second, where she thought she saw the dark eyes shift from the horizon to look in her direction. The moment vanished; suddenly the red light of the rising sun stabbed him, and he tilted the bowl and drank.

            Convulsing, Vadriel fell backward, and for an anguished moment Sustenia watched him writhe upon the stone, his face an agonized rictus. Aghast, she watched his perfect body split down the middle; a column of intensely glowing light sprang from the tear, light so bright she had to look away. When she was able to see normally again,  there he stood again— twice as tall as he had been, and with golden skin and hair that flickered and glowed like the embers of a fire. He flexed his arms and hands in wonder. Below him, his former body— his hands, his hair, his mouth— slowly blackened and charred, turning to ashes.

            A comet streaked a path through the sky above her, landing on the hilltop from which the priests were wisely retreating. The sudden influx of heat blew Vadriel's ashes into the wind; they scattered into the trees below. Sustenia watched, eyes watering, as the figure in the chariot stepped down, handing the reins to his more brightly glowing son. Vadriel stepped into the chariot, and the light that was his father streaked up into the morning sky, up and up, until Sustenia could no longer make it out in the growing light of the sun.

            Vadriel waited on the hilltop for a long time after his father vanished. The combined light of Vadriel and his horses and chariot was more than she could comfortably watch for more than a few seconds; her eyes streamed, and she lowered the spyglass, wiping at them. She looked up again when she heard a noise- chariot wheels, rumbling, and the stampede of horses' hooves. The chariot had swung over the water, streaking away to the east, and Sustenia thought that the sun grew a little bit brighter when it finally reached the horizon.

            She tried to smile at that, found she couldn't really, and sank below the waves, back to her tower.

 

            She kept her promise to him- every morning, at dawn, she rose to the surface to watch the sun come up. Time passed; the sun circled the sky as it always did, and the sea princess swam to and from her ivory tower, as she always did, tending to her hobbies- playing with the seals, drifting through shipwrecks, rescuing sailors lost at sea. If she were somewhat more withdrawn than usual, or spent a lot of time on the surface, sitting alone on the beach, no one seemed to notice. As the years passed, Sustenia looked the same, save that there was now a streak of white in her long green hair, above her left temple.

            The air sprites grew accustomed to her, and eventually asked her why she watched the sun rise each morning, even when the weather was poor. Her story saddened them- the soft-hearted sprites wept, filling the skies with a drizzling mist. Soon afterward Sustenia and the sprites became fast friends. They told her jokes and outrageous stories, gossiped about the news the winds brought to them, and warned Sustenia when storms were coming, so she could prepare to rescue any souls lost from unlucky ships.

 

            On the last day of her life, the sprites told her of a particularly fierce storm, far out to sea.

            "The wind is so fierce," cried one sprite, "that even we cannot stand it- our wings would be torn to shreds."

            "Please, Sustenia," cried another, "don't go— the seas have gone mad; there are whirlpools a hundred metres wide, and waves tall as mountains."

            "Are there any boats in its path?" the sea princess asked, calmly.

            The sprite burst into tears, to be comforted by her sister.

            "Sustenia, you must not go," a third sprite told her, fiercely. "You will surely die!"

            There were boats, Sustenia decided. The sprites were lovely creatures, loyal and charming, but in their excitement, they also tended to exaggerate: a ten-foot swell could easily become the size of a mountain.

            "I promise I'll be careful," she told them, before sinking away below the surface.

            "Sustenia! SUSTENIA!" they screamed at her retreating back; Sustenia rolled her eyes. She would not cower in a cavern somewhere while innocent lives were lost, all due to a stupid dispute between her ageless father and his brother the sky king.

            Sustenia swam for what seemed hours; periodically she would encounter other creatures, whales and seals and fish, and warned all of them to stay out of the path of the storm. She could hear it, too— a long way off, the deep roaring sound of water tearing apart and crashing together again. The surface boiled with rain, then hail; Sustenia almost turned back, then thought of the land-people stranded on their vessels, terrified by the sudden onslaught of foul weather.  If anyone could save them, it was she- if she could help even one person stay alive, to step back to the shore and the arms of a loved one, it would be worth it.

            Gritting her teeth, she swam until she found the wooden hull of a boat, still intact. She paused a moment, wondering what to do— if any land-people were to fall overboard, they would be too far out at sea to swim back to shore, even if there were dolphins and seals here to help them. She surfaced and gasped at the sudden sting of hailstones; shading her eyes, she gripped the low railing and pulled herself up. Five men huddled on the deck, tied to the mast or to the railing; two were bailing and one clung desperately to the rudder, attempting to steer the craft into the waves. She slipped back down into the water, chewing her lip— five men! One she could carry, maybe two, but five?

            There was one solution— she grasped the hull of the boat as tightly as she could. Summoning all her strength, she called for a swift, strong current to come, to take the vessel back to shore. The calling was difficult; the undersea currents were in an uproar because of the storm, snarled like a tangle of yarn. Eventually one came, a current from deep on the ocean floor, which carried water so cold it made even Sustenia shiver. Eyeless creatures, tiny and phosphorescent, oddities she had seen only on visits to her father, swirled in the current's wake. She pointed the direction she wished it to take, then as it began to move, floated away from it, dizzy with the effort of forcing so much water to move as she wished.

            When she recovered, Sustenia found herself drifting, close to the centre of the storm. She looked up and saw another vessel, smashed; its inhabitants were already drowned. The roiling water here sucked at her, pulled her hair away to one side, and she struggled against it, wishing she hadn't squandered so much of her strength.

             One of the corpses had been a man with long black hair that curled like Vadriel's, with long dark eyes like his, also. She held him only for a moment before the unruly water tore him from her grasp; suddenly, Sustenia found herself torn away as well, in the water and yet above the water, trapped in water whirling through the air.

            She screamed, terrified, but her father could not hear her over the howling of the storm. Her home dropped away, now below her, then above her as she tumbled; further and further away.  Around her the icy water stung her skin; lightning flashed against the grey mass of cloud somewhere above her, and she realized she was beyond rescue now— even her father, the mighty king of the sea, could never reach so high. She was so high now, surely her uncle the sky king could see her— but would he care enough to pluck her from the storm? Whirling helplessly through the air for what seemed an eternity, her stomach churning, Sustenia squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for death to come quickly.

            But— wait, what was that sound?

            Sustenia peered through shaking hands, and gasped.

            A ball of lightning, a sphere of glowing light so brilliant, it hurt to look at; a galloping furnace, rumbling wheels and clattering hooves. The water and even the charged air of the storm were boiling away from it, as if afraid; she felt a blast of warm wet air against her face, and then the air cleared. The blazing chariot cleared a path of calm air before it, slicing like an arrow through the storm, and before the arrow flew a dozen tiny, childlike creatures which immediately grabbed her arms and legs.

            "Sustenia! We finally found you. We were so worried!" several of them chorused.

            "Vadriel's helping, see?" another yelled. "He saw you, and asked us to come get you, since he'd burn you up."

            "He's keeping the storm away so we can fly."

            Sustenia shook her head. Vadriel's beautiful face was twisted in pain; stray drops of water were striking him, and the horses, which shied from the impact. The glow of the chariot, while still bright, had dimmed noticeably in the storm which still raged around them.

            The sprites tugged at her, but while they were agile and quick, they were not particularly strong; each gust of wind buffeted them cruelly, and several would lose their grip on Sustenia's smooth, rain-slicked skin with each gust.

            Behind them, the chariot drew nearer. Sustenia's skin, already bruised by the stinging rain and wind, began to tighten painfully.

            "Ow, my wings!" cried the hindmost sprite. "I'm burning!" She dropped Sustenia's ankle and swatted at her wings, which had begun to smoulder. Sustenia looked back- the chariot would overtake them in seconds, if Vadriel kept his course. If he veered away, she and the sprites would die, exposed to the full fury of the hurricane.

             Vadriel's eyes met hers— they had not changed, they were as dark, as expressive, as always. He dropped his whip; it fell, glowing, into the storm.

            "Let me go! " Sustenia shouted, panicking, but they ignored her.

            "Why doesn't he slow down?" one sprite moaned, and another panted, crossly:            "He can't, stupid. If he does, the chariot will tip and he'll fall into the ocean." A vicious gust of wind tossed them backward.

            "Let me GO!" Sustenia yelled. Vadriel pulled back on the reins, sharply. The fiery horses reared, screaming; the chariot wobbled, teetering in midair. The sprites shrieked in unison; Sustenia took the opportunity to twist free of their grasp.

            Vadriel had produced a knife and was cutting the reins. Just as the chariot began to topple, the horses sprang free.

            "Go with them!" she yelled, hoping that the air sprites heard. She gritted her teeth and dove toward Vadriel, who like her, was now falling toward the ocean.

             He glowed still, hot enough to be lethal to Sustenia, but his light was by now greatly diminished; as she drew nearer, she could see gray patches of ash had formed on his chest and arms. Vadriel smiled across at her, mouthing something. The words vanished into the storm, but Sustenia thought she saw their meaning in his eyes: If I die for you, then it's worth it.

            "NO!" As they fell, Sustenia drew nearer; for a split second, there was consternation on Vadriel's face. The sea rushed toward them at a dizzying pace.

            "I'm coming with you," Sustenia shouted, and reached for him. Vadriel opened his arms. His eyes said, simply, I love you—

            She grabbed his hand, and screamed.

            It was excruciating- far worse than the time when she had been stung by a man'o war jellyfish, far worse than the time when she had accidentally touched a hot coal. Her whole body burned, her skin, her hair, even her blood; she was burning, she was dying, and as she died she clung to the source of her pain, knowing he was in torment, he was dying too.

            The pain, terrible and intense as it was, lasted only a moment.

           

            There was a tremendous burst of energy as water met fire; the air ripped apart around them, and there was a thunderclap loud enough to attract even the attention of the warring kings.

            The hurricane quickly died, and the debris of the storm were left floating on the surface of the water, bobbing almost cheerfully. There was an unspoken truce between the kings as they searched for the source of the mysterious burst of energy. Long brown ribbons of kelp, uprooted from the sea floor, floated amidst the shattered timbers of several wrecked boats; the bodies of seabirds, caught unaware by the storm, floated alongside the corpses of sailors. Among the wreckage floated the remains of a huge wooden chariot, its magical properties lost.

            Within the chariot lay the bruised, scorched body of Sustenia, still clinging to a huge, man-shaped cinder.

           

            The air sprites found them, first. They had followed and in fact overtaken the burning horses as they galloped to safety; once unburdened by Sustenia's considerably greater weight, they flew literally like the wind. They, too, had heard the thunderclap, and their hearts grieved, for they all could guess what it meant. With the storm gone, curious creatures— the whales and the seagulls, fish and seals and cormorants, slowly gathered around, drawn by the keening of the air sprites

            When the air sprites told the story of Sustenia and Vadriel, the cheerful cries of the seagulls became melancholy; in fact, the birds were so moved that they were never able to forget, and sing laments to this day.

             The sea king wept, hiding his great green head in his hands— Sustenia had often pleaded for the sailors of the land people, who were caught in his battles with the sky king; she had come to him several times, asking him to spare them, but he had never paid her any mind. The other sea creatures wept also, and shed so many tears among them that the ocean water became salty, as it remains today.

            The sky king decided to summon black thunderclouds of mourning, and as he raised his head to do so, he saw a crimson streak shoot forth from the now-setting sun like an arrow. It was aimed straight for them.

            The object came closer, until the kings (for the sea king could hardly help notice this bright red comet, swinging down from the sky, and he watched it also) saw it was a bird, with wings of fire and a long red salamander's tail.

            The air sprites looked up as well, and gasped, amazed.

            The salamander bird came closer, and closer still; it was huge, its wings the length of two horses, end to end. The heat and light radiating from it became painfully intens; frightened, the seabirds flew away, and the smaller sea creatures submerged themselves in the water.

            When it had come close enough, the salamander bird began to coast in a circle, high above the sea.

            "I come bearing a message to Jupiter, king of the skies, from my master Amon-Re, leader of the solar charioteers," the creature screamed, in a shrieking monotone. "One of my master's people has fallen. My master desires the return of this loyal subject, so he may be raised up among the stars after death as is his right. We require your aid— to lift him from the surface of the water, so that I, the bearer of souls, may touch him. You may ask what you wish in return for this favour."

            The sky king looked down at the intertwined bodies floating on the wrecked chariot, and the tear-streaked faces of his fluttering progeny. He looked over toward his brother, the sea king.

            "Brother," the sky king said, very gently, "would you mind if—"

            The sea king waved one huge blue-green hand, interrupting him. "It's what she'd want," he rumbled, sadly. "Go ahead, Jupe."

            The sky king scooped up the chariot in one huge translucent palm, raised it over his head, up to where the salamander bird flew. It stared at him, blankly.

            "I ask for this: that you take these two, and raise them both to the heavens, so they may be together forever more."

            The salamander bird nodded, mechanically.

            "It will be done," it shrieked, then dove at the chariot. It flew off, with Sustenia in one great blazing talon and Vadriel in the other.

            The air sprites, watching, thought it was so romantic their hearts would break; they hugged each other and cried, and occasionally hugged the vast torso of the sky king.

            The sea king stood numbly, watching the spark of fire fly up into the heavens; seeing this, the sky king was filled with remorse.

            "Nep," he said, extending one hand, "I am truly sorry. Truce?"

            The sea king didn't seem to hear at first, then turned slowly. He looked at the extended hand, and an expression broke over his face, compounded equally of joy and grief.

            "Yeah, truce," he said, "I'm sorry, too." The two giants shook hands.

            Together, the brother-kings and their subjects watched the bright speck of the salamander bird as it rose higher and higher, into the darkening sky. It dwindled in size until they could no longer see it.

            "Look!" cried the sprite with singed wings. "In the north!"

            And there it was, shining brightly above them in the northern sky, a new star brighter than the others.

            A star which, unlike the rest, remained fixed in the sky, never forgetting its original position, just as Sustenia and Vadriel had never, despite their long separation, forgotten each other.

            And that was how the north star came to be.

 

Copyright Elizabeth Bent 2005

 

Back to Stories