01.04 | Laguna Mariposa
Laguna Mariposa
Sebastian stood frozen before the weathered door of his family's cottage, unable to tear his gaze from the departing ship on the horizon. The vessel grew smaller against the endless blue, taking with it Iihljiwaas and his three months of freedom. Sebastian’s hands trembled slightly at his sides, as a heaviness filled his chest.
The modest cottage sat perched on a gentle slope overlooking Laguna Mariposa's harbor. From this vantage, Sebastian could see the entire village—a collection of similar dwellings with smoke rising from stone chimneys, the marketplace where locals traded their daily catch and crafts, and the weathered dock where fishing vessels bobbed in the gentle current. The morning sun cast long shadows across the packed dirt paths that connected the community, paths that had once felt like the boundaries of his entire world. Now, after his time in the north with the House of the Two-Finned Orca, these familiar surroundings seemed impossibly small.
He watched until Iihljiwaas's ship disappeared on the horizon, taking with it his last tangible connection to the greater magical world. He drew a deep breath, adjusted his brown leather backpack, and pushed open the door.
"Sebastian!" His mother's voice rang out before he'd fully stepped inside. Sara Marie rushed toward him, her long brown hair flowing behind her, arms outstretched. "My boy is home!" She enveloped him in a tight embrace that smelled of fresh lavender.
Over her shoulder, Sebastian saw his grandmother Josephine in her rocking chair by the hearth, cigarette balanced delicately between gnarled fingers. She gave him a nod, her weathered face crinkling into what might have been a smile.
"Let me look at you," Sara Marie said, holding him at arm's length. "Still in one piece, thank goodness." She brushed imaginary dirt from his shoulders, her touch both familiar and suddenly foreign after months away.
"Hi, Mom," Sebastian said, extracting himself from her grip. "Grandma Josie." He crossed the room to his grandmother, leaning down to hug her thin frame carefully.
"About time you showed your face. Your mother has been worried sick," Josephine rasped, smoke punctuating her words. She reached beside her chair and produced a pair of knitted slippers in earth tones. "Made these for you. Your old ones were falling apart."
"Thanks, Grandma." Sebastian took the slippers, running his thumb along the intricately woven pattern.
"Sit, sit," Sara Marie urged, already bustling toward the kitchen area. "You must be starving. I'll fix you something to eat while you tell us about your trip. Though not too much—I don't need to hear about any dangerous situations you got yourself into."
Sebastian's heart lifted slightly at the request. He settled at the worn wooden table, setting his backpack carefully beside him. "It was amazing," he began, words tumbling out as he tried to capture the wonder he'd experienced. "Iihljiwaas showed me how they navigate using the stars, and their trading routes connect villages that don't even appear on our maps. But the most incredible part was the magic—"
"Magic?" Sara Marie's voice sharpened as she set a plate of bread and cheese before him. "Sebastian, we've talked about this. Those people have strange customs, but—"
"It's real, Mom. I saw it," Sebastian insisted, leaning forward with urgency. His mind raced to encapsulate the memories, desperate to convey them before they slipped away. "Iihljiwaas has an elemental crystal—it's shaped like a black feather. It lets him control air currents. That's how they navigate even when there's no wind. If he can use an elemental crystal, maybe I could too. There are different types for different elements and—"
"You look thirsty, honey," Sara Marie interrupted, seamlessly cutting into his enthusiasm. She appeared beside him with a glass of amber liquid, the ice cubes clinking against the sides almost mockingly. "Sun tea with lemon, just how you like it." Her smile seemed pasted on, a gesture without depth. She placed the glass before him, swiftly steering the conversation away. "You know, while you were gone, Samuel did something remarkable. He caught a thief at work last week! The sheriff said he showed real initiative. He's becoming quite respected."
Sebastian blinked, his thoughts colliding as he processed the sudden shift in focus. His own interests dangled unfinished in the air, forgotten. "That's... good for him," he managed, struggling to redirect the dialogue. "But about the elemental—"
"And Sawyer is looking at buying a house, can you believe it?" Sara Marie continued, her words a relentless stream. "Just seventeen and already saving for his first property. The clerk at the records office says he's showing real promise. Such a head for business."
"Mom, he told me how to get a crystal—" Sebastian attempted again, desperation creeping into his voice.
"Oh! And Stuart received a promotion!" Sara Marie exclaimed, completely sweeping past his protests. "He'll be managing new trade routes for the company. They're giving him more responsibility, more pay. He works so hard, that boy."
Sebastian sat rigidly at the kitchen table. His fingers curled around the edge of the table as he listened to her cheerful retellings.
"That's great," he said flatly, interrupting her flow of words. "But I saw things I never imagined. Don't you want to hear about—"
"Oh, speaking of things I could never have imagined," Sara Marie said, patting his shoulder as she moved past him. "You wouldn't believe how Mrs. Thornton completely reorganized the school library. Boxes everywhere! And Mr. Blackwood - he's the new mathematics teacher - absolutely brilliant with the children. Even little Timothy, who could never concentrate for more than five minutes, has improved remarkably. And Miss Coleman has been helping me with the younger students. Such a natural talent for teaching."
Sebastian's jaw tightened as each unfamiliar name washed over him. He had carried his experiences like precious cargo down the coast, eager to unpack them before his family, but they remained bundled inside him, growing heavier by the minute.
Josephine watched this exchange from her chair, smoke curling around her face like a veil. She said nothing, but her eyes—sharp despite her age—followed Sebastian with something that might have been understanding or merely curiosity.
He tried twice more to describe what he had witnessed: the sacred ceremonies where Iihljiwaas's father had channeled wind through his crystal to fill their sails; the night they'd anchored beside an island where luminescent lorelings danced across the beach like living stars. Each time, his mother nodded absently, offered a noncommittal "How interesting," or “that’s nice, honey” and redirected the conversation to more of his family's achievements and village rumors.
Eventually, Sebastian gave up his efforts and fell silent. He'd rehearsed these stories on the journey home, imagining his family’s amazement, their questions. As his mother continued filling him in, Sebastian zoned out, offering an occasional smile and a nod. He knew his grandfather and Derek would be his most captivated audience. He would just have to keep the excitement of his adventure at bay for a bit longer.
Suddenly, the front door swung open with a bang, jolting Sebastian from his thoughts. His father Stanley strode in, rifle slung over his shoulder, his tricolor black, white and copper loreling trotting at his heels. The creature’s white-tipped tail wagged enthusiastically while its long, velvety ears bounced with each step. Dark amber eyes, bright and alert in its white-masked face, spotted Sebastian immediately. With a soft whine of recognition, it broke from Stanley's side and bounded toward Sebastian, circling his legs excitedly before pressing its cold, wet nose against his pants and boots, sniffing intensely and thoroughly as it cataloged the foreign scents of his travels.. Samuel followed close behind, his sheriff's badge catching the light as he removed his leather jacket.
"Look who's back," Stanley announced, voice gruff as he propped his rifle by the door. "The wanderer returns."
"Hey, Dad," Sebastian said, rising from his chair. "Samuel."
No embrace came. Stanley merely nodded, eyes assessing Sebastian as if checking for visible damage. "Survived your time with the savages, then," he remarked, the corner of his mouth twitching in what passed for his version of humor.
"They're not savages," Sebastian replied, heat rising in his voice. "They're skilled navigators and traders. Their ship has technology we've never—"
"Surprised you made it back in one piece," Samuel interrupted, his muscular frame filling the doorway as he hung up his coat. "People like that aren't known for their hospitality to outsiders."
"What would you know about it?" Sebastian challenged. "You've never even left Laguna Mariposa."
Samuel's eyes narrowed. "I know enough from the reports I've seen. You'll end up dead if you're not careful, little brother."
"Samuel's right," Stanley said, dropping heavily into his chair at the head of the table. His loreling curled at his feet, eyes still fixed warily on Sebastian."Just because you're so kind-hearted doesn't mean others are. There are dangerous people beyond our village. More wish you harm than good, boy. Remember that."
"The House of the Two-Finned Orca treated me like family," Sebastian insisted. "They shared their food, their knowledge. Iihljiwaas taught me how to read the stars and—"
"Stars won't save you when someone's knife is at your throat," Stanley cut in. "What kind of life is that anyway? Living on ships, no proper homes, strange beliefs about those loreling creatures. No stability."
"Their way of life is different, not wrong," Sebastian said, fists clenching at his sides. "They respect the natural world in ways we don't. They believe even domesticated lorelings deserve freedom. And they can use magic—"
A derisive snort from Samuel halted his words. The sound felt like a slap.
"Magic," Stanley repeated, shaking his head. "Parlor tricks to impress gullible boys, nothing more."
"I saw it with my own eyes!" Sebastian insisted, voice rising despite himself. "Iihljiwaas controls wind currents with his crystal. It's real magic, not tricks."
A strained silence followed his outburst. Sara Marie bustled more frantically around the kitchen, avoiding the tension. Josephine watched from her chair, smoke rings rising like silent commentary.
Sebastian stood there, chest heaving slightly, amazed at the sheer ignorance surrounding him. How could they be so dismissive of something they'd never seen? How could they judge people they'd never met? The narrow walls of the cottage, felt like a prison closing in on him.
As Stanley opened his mouth to retort, they were disrupted by the arrival of Sawyer, who breezed through the door followed by his two graceful lorelings. Their sleek bodies were covered in short velvet fur that shimmered with each movement. Golden eyes, vertical pupils dilating in the indoor light, surveyed the room with calculated nonchalance. They moved with silent, predatory elegance, pointed ears twitching at every sound as they wound around Sawyer's legs. Soft purring sounds emanated from their throats as they rubbed against his ankles, hanging in the air on gentle vibrations.
Sawyer stood in the doorway, wire-rimmed glasses perched on a narrow nose, slightly askew as always. Wavy, dirty blonde hair parted in the middle framed a face that seemed perpetually caught between deep thought and amusement. "The prodigal returns!" he announced, his spectacles catching the light as he appraised Sebastian. Unlike the others, he approached with curiosity. "So, my globetrotting little brother, tell me about this grand adventure of yours. Did you learn anything useful, or was it just sightseeing?"
"It was incredible," Sebastian said cautiously, relief washing through him at finally being asked. "I want to get an elemental crystal of my own, like Iihljiwaas has. Learn to use magic."
Sawyer's eyebrows rose above his round spectacles. "Magic, is it? Will you use this magic for alchemy, perhaps? Turn our modest family fortunes to gold?" His tone carried the light sting of mockery, softened only slightly by his smile.
"It's not about money," Sebastian replied. "It's about connecting with something greater, learning to work with natural forces instead of against them."
"Ah, philosophy instead of practicality," Sawyer said. "While you've been contemplating the greater forces of the universe, some of us have been working for a living." He straightened his vest, a gesture of pride. "Investments appreciate. Magic tricks don't."
"You don't understand," Sebastian said, frustration building again.
"What I understand," Sawyer continued, his voice losing its playful edge, "is that your travels put unnecessary worry and stress on the family. Mother barely slept while you were gone, imagining all sorts of terrible fates befalling you. It's rather selfish, don't you think? Chasing fantasies while causing real concern for those who love you."
The accusation landed deep in his gut. Sebastian hadn't considered how his absence might have affected them, especially his mother. He glanced at Sara Marie, who was now silently arranging plates with a determined cadence, her earlier enthusiasm at his return somewhat dimmed by the tension in the room.
"I didn't mean to worry anyone," he said quietly. "I just wanted to see something beyond the village. Learn things you can't learn here."
"There's plenty to learn right here," Stanley said firmly. "Practical skills. Real work. Not fairy stories about magical crystals."
Sebastian felt the walls closing in, each dismissive comment another brick in the barrier between him and his family. They hadn't asked a single genuine question about his experiences. They hadn't listened to a word he'd said. Sebastian felt as if he was expected to return unchanged, his mind and heart still confined to the boundaries they understood, a former version of himself that would never return
A sudden uproar of howls erupted from outside, breaking the tension in the dense cottage. Three distinct barks melded in a frenzied announcement, growing louder as they approached.
"That'll be Stuart," Sara Marie said, relief evident in her voice at the distraction. “I told him to come for breakfast before leaving on his trade route.”
Sebastian happily seized the opportunity. "I'll go greet him," he offered quickly, already moving toward the door, desperate for an escape.
No one objected as he slipped outside, taking in the freshness of the sea air. The sun had begun its ascent over the eastern hills, bathing the village in a soft golden light that illuminated the dew-kissed rooftops. Wisps of morning fog still clung to the lower paths, gradually surrendering to the warming day.
Down the dirt path that wound toward their cottage, Stuart approached with a trio of lorelings darting around his legs. Sebastian jogged down the porch steps to meet his eldest brother halfway.
Stuart looked travel-worn but cheerful. His light-colored shirt bore dust from the road, and his leather vest had a new tear along one seam. A canvas pack hung loosely from one shoulder. Despite the clear exhaustion in his posture, Stuart's face brightened as he spotted Sebastian.
"There he is—the world traveler!" Stuart called out, raising a hand in greeting. "Heard you were coming back today. How was the grand adventure?"
Before Sebastian could answer, the three lorelings registered his presence and changed course, racing toward him with wild enthusiasm. The golden-furred one led the charge, tongue lolling from its mouth and ears flopping in the wind as it bounded forward with powerful strides. Close behind came a white and brown stocky creature, its muscular body moving with surprising grace despite its solid frame. But it was the third loreling that caught Sebastian's attention—a small gray fur ball with oversized paws and ears that seemed too large for its head, stumbling slightly as it struggled to keep pace with the others.
"Whoa there!" Sebastian exclaimed as the yellow loreling reached him first, rearing up on hind legs to place paws against his chest. Its tail whipped back and forth with such force that its entire rear section swayed. "Okay, okay" he said.
The brown and white loreling circled him twice, sniffing intensely at his boots and pants legs, investigating the foreign scents clinging to his clothes from his northern journey. The little gray one approached more cautiously, its head tilted to one side as it studied Sebastian with curious eyes.
"You got a new Zuppy," Sebastian observed, extending his hand slowly toward the small creature.
The puppy loreling sniffed his fingers, then gave them a tentative lick before pressing its entire tiny body against his hand, seemingly delighted by the attention.
Stuart nodded, pride evident in his expression. "Got him about a month after you left. Found him wandering near the eastern fields—no owner, no collar. Mom says I didn't need another mouth to feed, but..." He shrugged. "Couldn't leave him out there."
"He's beautiful," Sebastian said, gently lifting the Zuppy to examine it more closely. The puppy squirmed happily in his hands, its little tail a blur of motion. "I wonder what it will morph into?"
"Yeah, who knows," Stuart admitted. "It’s hard to believe these other two terrors used to be innocent little Zuppies too."
Sebastian glanced at the golden yellow loreling, who was now investigating a beetle in the dirt with intense concentration. "I guess that’s part of the fun. Morphosis is such an odd process. You never know what it will turn into."
"What about up north?" Stuart asked, his eyes lighting with genuine interest. "Did they have different lorelings there?"
Sebastian felt a rush of appreciation for his brother's curiosity—so different from the dismissive reactions he'd received inside the cottage. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "The Two-Finned Orcas have these wooden totem lorelings that are unlike anything here in Laguna Mariposa. They're small—about the size of your hand—and carved from cedar. But they're alive, Stuart. They move and breathe and grow just like Zuppy."
"Wooden lorelings?" Stuart's eyebrows rose in surprise. "How is that possible?"
"There’s so much about the world that we know very little about," Sebastian said simply. "They’re called Cedark. And when they morph, they can take on different carved, wooden forms related to their clan's heritage—orcas, ravens, wolves, bears!"
Stuart whistled low. "That's something else. And here I thought morphosis just meant Zuppy gets a different coat pattern."
Sebastian shook his head. "It's so much more than that. Iihljiwaas explained that lorelings reflect the characteristics of their environment. Here in Laguna Mariposa, we don’t have magic, so our lorelings keep to normal forms. But in places where magic flows more freely, the changes can be dramatic. Their lorelings have powers. They can channel the elements."
Sebastian set down the restless Zuppy. It darted immediately over to Stuart, attempting to climb his leg, tiny claws catching on the fabric of his trousers. Stuart reached down and scooped up the energetic creature, holding it against his chest where it immediately settled, eyes half-closing in contentment.
"Iihljiwaas said something interesting," Sebastian continued, reaching out to stroke the Zuppy's soft head. "He said that in all the magic-less villages he's visited, they all have the same two base lorelings—Zuppies like this little guy, and Zittens, which Sawyer is just so fond of."
"That's true," Stuart nodded. "I hadn’t thought about it before, but I've never seen a village on any of my trade routes without them."
"But that's just the beginning," Sebastian said, warming to the subject. "Just as the House of the Two-Finned Orca up north has their own wooden totem loreling, each house in the entire world has their own loreling line."
“But,” Stuart's brow furrowed in thought. "That must mean there are thousands?"
"Could be millions!" Sebastian exclaimed. "Apparently every country has its own national loreling breed too. These live wild and free, not domesticated like our companions here or any of the house lorelings."
"National lorelings..." Stuart repeated thoughtfully. "Like the thunderbird Grandpa talked about seeing up north?"
"Yes, exactly like that. The thunderbird is America's national loreling—massive wingspan, feathers that crackle with electricity. Grandpa was one of the few people ever to spot one."
"So you think Grandpa was telling the truth about seeing it? Mom always said he was just spinning tales."
"I believe him," Sebastian said firmly. "I think I saw a glimpse of it myself. I can’t be sure. But after what I've seen these past months, I know there's more enchantment in the world than most people here want to admit."
Stuart nodded. "How did we not know any of this existed? House Lorelings. National Lorelings. What’s next?"
"Well," Sebastian said hesitantly, worried he might completely lose his brother’s confidence with what he was about to say next. "Iihljiwaas told me even the gods and divine houses have their own loreling breeds."
"Gods?" Stuart raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his expression.
"Remember all those Greek myths we used to read when we were kids? The illustrated book Great-Grandma Pearl gave us?"
Stuart's face softened at the memory. "Sure. You were obsessed with that thing. Used to make me act out the stories with you."
"Well, according to Iihljiwaas, a traveler from Europe told him that all of the Greek gods have special flying horse lorelings."
"Flying horses," Stuart repeated, voice caught between wonder and disbelief. "Hard to imagine."
"The traveler described them in detail," Sebastian continued eagerly. “Just like Zuppy, there’s one infant form and when they morph, they embody the powers and attributes of one of the gods themselves. Apparently Zeus's has a mane that flashes with lightning and leaves a trail of stormclouds in its wake."
"And here I thought these runts was special because they can fetch my boots," Stuart chuckled, teasing his brother.
Sebastian grinned. "Maybe they are special. Iihljiwaas said the bond between a person and their loreling can enhance the loreling's abilities. Who knows what they are truly capable of."
"So you're saying if I believe hard enough, little Zuppy here might sprout wings?" Stuart joked, holding the drowsy puppy up to eye level.
"Probably not wings," Sebastian laughed, "but there could be some untapped potential there."
Stuart looked at the Zuppy with renewed interest. "Guess we'll wait and see, won't we, little guy?"
The creature yawned lazily in response before being startled by a voice from the cottage. "Boys! Breakfast is ready! Come in before it gets cold," Sara Marie called out.
"We better go," Stuart said, shifting the Zuppy to one shoulder where it immediately began to doze off again.
Sebastian’s appetite had diminished at the thought of returning to the tension inside.
“I’m going to go see grandma and grandpa.” Sebastian said. His brother flashed him a knowing look. “Tell mom I’ll be back later.”
Mythologue:
Sebastian | 0009
Stanley | 0023
Stewart | 0026
Josephine | 0021
Samuel | 0024
Sara Marie | 0022
Sawyer | 0025