apr 16th 2023
The pounding of the surf was the only sound she could hear, drowning out her ragged breathing and the cries of the birds overhead. Fianna felt like she had been here for days, clinging to this piece of wet timber. Every few hours or so, her mind wandered, her limbs went slack, and she drifted into a troubled sleep; but the salt water flooded into her nose and mouth every time, and she would wake up sputtering and coughing.
Fianna’s fatigue was exacerbated by the red patches on her shoulders and arms, where the golden Sun had burned her flesh. She had barely been able to struggle to the surface, due in no small part to the way her linen tabard had swelled with seawater; and as soon as she found what was left of the ship’s mast, she shrugged the garment off and let it sink beneath the waves. She could only hope that Saint Corvus would understand.
Turning her attention to the birds circling above, she noticed that they were spread out in an ellipse. Each would glide to a point about fifty feet behind her, then from there loop around to go back the way it had come, disappearing just over the horizon. In her exhaustion, it took her nearly a minute to think through the implications of this.
Was there land that way?
Sighing, the sound swallowed up by the crashing waves, she began kicking her legs to push herself and the wood in that direction. After nearly an hour of this, she saw some dark object rising out of the sea, just barely visible when she reached the top of a swell. Ignoring the pain in her legs, Fianna continued paddling towards the spot. Even if it were little more than a shard of rock in the middle of the water, it would at least allow her a few minutes of rest.
The Sun had descended by the time she reached the little rock, scarcely ten feet to a side. Slipping between the resting birds, she laid down on the jagged stone, clutching the broken mast to her like a lover, and surrendered to her exhaustion.
* * * *
She was awakened by a scrabbling sound near her face. Opening one swollen eye, she saw a gull rubbing its beak on the rock, evidently searching for scraps of anything edible. It then turned to look at her, as if asking a question.
Fianna squinted. "I haven’t any food. Best look elsewhere."
The bird tilted its head, then lazily took off. Now alone and quite awake on the tiny rock, Fianna sat up, wincing as her burnt arms rubbed against the bare stone. The Sun was just starting to rise in the east; as she glanced in every direction, she spotted something just to the south-west.
Blinking to ensure she wasn’t seeing things, she looked again. There was a gray-blue column rising slowly into the sky… and where there was smoke, there was usually fire.
For the first time since the storm had capsized her ship, Fianna felt a stirring of hope. Even if the smoke was the product of a purely natural lightning strike, it represented a concrete thing she could strive towards. With a tentative flexing of her limbs to make sure she could swim - she could - she pushed the mast back into the water, climbed in after it, and started paddling.
It took almost an hour, but she finally saw something more substantial. The smoke continued to drift upward, but it was now surrounded by the green canopies of trees. Fianna realized the water was growing shallower, and she stopped for a few minutes to rest her aching legs. Another few minutes of swimming, and she reached a beach strewn with moss-covered rocks.
Though she should have collapsed from exhaustion, Fianna was invigorated by curiosity, and stumbled as quickly as she could to the treeline. From this close, the smoke was no longer visible, but she could faintly smell the smoke… and below it, the faintest hint of meat.
She let her nose lead her deeper inland, the smell growing stronger with each yard she walked. Excited as she was, fatigue began to catch up with her, and she sat down, leaning against a palm tree. Just a few minutes of rest... just a few minutes...
* * * *
"Hello, miss?"
Fianna stirred from her slumber, suddenly face to face with someone else. She gasped, and the person stepped back.
"I apologize - I did not mean to startle you!" Her voice was thick with an unfamiliar accent, but her words were precise.
The castaway rubbed at her eyes, trying to get a better luck at this woman. Clad in a loose-fitting white tunic or dress, and carrying a woven basket, the woman must have stood almost six feet tall on her bare feet. Raven-black hair flowed down to her waist, flowers and beads braided throughout its length; and her bare arms showed lean, hard muscles.
Suddenly aware that she was staring, Fianna cleared her throat. "No, you have done nothing wrong. But... I wonder if you could tell me where I am, exactly?"
The tall woman nodded slowly. "This is the island of Bubastis, stranger. I am one of Her worshipers; my name is Anankha."
"My name is Fianna," she replied, slowly getting to her feet. "I, er, apologize for being rather poorly dressed..." she stammered out, suddenly embarrassed by being nearly naked in front of a stranger.
Anankha chuckled. "Considering tonight’s festivities, your dress is perfect."
"Festivities...?"
The woman in white smiled again. "Yes. Today is a feast day, and there is still much to do for our Goddess. I have gathered most of the berries I need; shall I show you the way to the Temple?"
Fianna hesitated. "I appreciate your generosity, certainly; but I am... a follower of a different path." She coughed, holding up the battered pendant that hung around her neck. "I am a priestess of Saint Corvus the Sure-Footed. Would your Goddess be offended?"
"Not at all! She offers food and shelter to all who need it; it is your choice whether to serve Her." Anankha extended a hand to the priestess. "Come, there is enough food for everyone. You must be weary, to have come such a long way in only your undergarments."
For the first time in days, Fianna allowed herself to laugh. ■