Malik knows that Tephra had not been an island when he was a child, but the sinking of the south had happened when he was young enough that the wide expanse of water does not bring him the same odd chill that it might to his elders. His father had shared stories of the drowned lands, of the flowers of the pampas and the year-round fire of Sylva’s woods. Malik recalls one visit to the rocky hills of Loess, but had preferred swimming between the wind-carved buttes with his cousin to traipsing beneath the blazing sun.
There was no explanation for what had happened, no answers for those who had lost loved ones in the flood. The creatures that had appeared in the South at the same time seem the most likely suspects to Malik, and yet they have done nothing but remain beneath the sea. They’d even hosted a feast for their neighbors, one that his sisters had found delightful and unsuspicious.
These thoughts, among others, race across his mind as he crosses the strip of land that connects his childhood home with the mainland. He’d overheard sometime in the meadow mention a terrible storm in Tephra, and he needed to be sure. He needed to know that it, too, had not fallen into the sea.
The young stallion is relieved to see the waving palms and tropical greenery still standing, but there is an unmistakable scent to the air, of ashes and old fire, and an acrid smell that he doesn’t recognize as ozone from the lightning strikes. He almost stops at the shore that had once been the border with Sylva, but remembers what his mother had said about her meeting with Casimira and heads into the kingdom.
Though he has reassured himself the place is here, Malik still feels the need to keep looking. He tells himself it is for anyone at all, to be sure that there is no lasting damage. But part of him knows that he’s looking for his twin, and the farther he moves into the once-familiar kingdom, the stronger the nostalgia becomes. When he reaches the first river of lava, its banks edged with burnt trees, he stops, trying to determine what had happened.
There was no explanation for what had happened, no answers for those who had lost loved ones in the flood. The creatures that had appeared in the South at the same time seem the most likely suspects to Malik, and yet they have done nothing but remain beneath the sea. They’d even hosted a feast for their neighbors, one that his sisters had found delightful and unsuspicious.
These thoughts, among others, race across his mind as he crosses the strip of land that connects his childhood home with the mainland. He’d overheard sometime in the meadow mention a terrible storm in Tephra, and he needed to be sure. He needed to know that it, too, had not fallen into the sea.
The young stallion is relieved to see the waving palms and tropical greenery still standing, but there is an unmistakable scent to the air, of ashes and old fire, and an acrid smell that he doesn’t recognize as ozone from the lightning strikes. He almost stops at the shore that had once been the border with Sylva, but remembers what his mother had said about her meeting with Casimira and heads into the kingdom.
Though he has reassured himself the place is here, Malik still feels the need to keep looking. He tells himself it is for anyone at all, to be sure that there is no lasting damage. But part of him knows that he’s looking for his twin, and the farther he moves into the once-familiar kingdom, the stronger the nostalgia becomes. When he reaches the first river of lava, its banks edged with burnt trees, he stops, trying to determine what had happened.