01.02 | Homecoming
Laguna Mariposa
It was dawn. The air felt heavy. The sun had just risen over the horizon. Through the morning mist, the great cedar canoe cut across the water, its hull slicing cleanly through the stillness of the water. Sebastian leaned against the bow, his thin fingers gripping the polished wood as Laguna Mariposa emerged from the haze. His lanky frame seemed to fold into itself, shoulders slightly hunched forward as he lifted a hand to the strap of the worn leather backpack slung over his shoulder. Shaggy brown hair fell haphazardly around his lightly freckled face, partially tamed by the teal headband wrapped around his forehead. The morning light caught in his striking green eyes, filled with quiet anticipation as they remained fixed on the approaching shore.
Sebastian
The village sat nestled between sea and sky, familiar yet somehow changed. Perhaps it was Sebastian himself who had changed during his time up north. He felt a peculiar tightness in his chest, a collision of excitement and sorrow that made his breath catch. Home waited just beyond that final stretch of ocean, but so did the life he so eagerly wanted to escape.
Fishing boats dotted the harbor like water bugs, their white hulls stark against the deep blue of the Pacific. Behind them, rows of weathered cottages climbed the gentle slope away from the shore, their pastel facades faded by salt and sun into subtle variations of the same tired palette. Sebastian's eyes traced the familiar path from the docks to his family's house—the third from the left in the second row, with the sagging porch and the wind chime his mother refused to replace despite its discordant tone.
"There it is," he says softly, more to himself than anyone else. "Home."
The word sat strangely on his tongue, neither completely true nor entirely false. His hands gripped the railing tighter, knuckles whitening. His thoughts raced, taking him into a daydream where he was darting through the village to his family's house. He was welcomed by Derek's laughter, his Grandfather's knowing eyes and his great-grandmother’s warm smile.
They will listen, won't they?
Derek will want to hear about the ceremonies he witnessed, set to the melody of rattles, whistles and drums. His eyes will glow with astonishment when Sebastian describes the way the night sky seemed to respond to their ancient songs, swirling and dancing in colorful patterns of green, crimson and violet.
And the lorelings—the mythical creatures that populate the world far beyond the boundaries of Laguna Mariposa—Sebastian had seen them now with his own eyes. Not just the domesticated pets that graced the homes of his village, but creatures far more extraordinary. The thought warmed his chest even as the cool sea spray misted his face. Evidence that his grandfather's stories weren't fabrications of an old man's imagination, but glimpses into a world more wondrous than anyone in his village dared to comprehend.
"Your thoughts have taken you," said a voice beside him.
Sebastian turned to find Iihljiwaas standing at his shoulder, the older boy's copper-toned face serene against the backdrop of churning sea. The wooden beads in his braided hair clicked softly in the breeze.
Iihljiwaas
"Just... thinking about what comes next," Sebastian replied, unconsciously adopting the measured cadence of his friend's speech.
Iihljiwaas nodded as if Sebastian had shared a profound insight. His cedar-bark and wool blend tunic decorated with intricate red and black designs shifts slightly in the breeze.
"The end of one journey is the beginning of another. My father says the space between is where wisdom lies."
Sebastian smiled faintly. After spending the last three months among the House of the Two-Finned Orca, he'd grown accustomed to their way of weaving philosophy into casual conversation. He would miss that. In Laguna Mariposa, talk centered around crop yields and weather patterns, fishing quotas and village gossip, the mundane concerns of people who had chosen generations ago to turn their backs on a world full of mystery and intrigue.
"I can't believe all we've seen," Sebastian said, his voice brightening. "And Grandfather will want to hear every detail of our search for the thunder bird. He's going to be so jealous we almost spotted it."
Iihljiwaas's eyes crinkled at the corners, his expression warming with the shared memory. "Almost," Iihljiwaas repeated with a soft smile. "The elusive thunder-bringer prefers to remain a story rather than a sighting for a reason.”
The memory of their expedition flooded back. Three days they'd spent camping high in the misty mountains of the northern coast, watching storm clouds gather and disperse like indecisive spirits. They'd glimpsed only a shadow, a vast winged shape backlit by lightning for the briefest moment before it vanished in a flash of light. But that glimpse had been enough to vindicate the stories Sebastian's grandfather had told him throughout his childhood.
"No one in my village believes that my grandfather saw it," Sebastian confided, lowering his voice though there was no one else within earshot.
"Those who cannot see beyond their personal borders often mistake truth for fantasy," Iihljiwaas observed. His dark eyes scanned the horizon thoughtfully. "Your grandfather has walked beyond those borders. That makes him dangerous to those who prefer to live in comfort."
"They think his stories are just an old man's fantasies." Sebastian continued, frustration edging into his voice. “They humored him when he was younger, but now they just..." He trailed off, not wanting to complete the thought.
"They just what?" Iihljiwaas prompted gently.
"They think he's losing his mind," Sebastian admited, the words bitter on his tongue. "But he's not. He saw what he saw. And now I've seen it too, if only a glimpse."
"The elders say the great thunder bird chooses who it reveals itself to," Iihljiwaas replied. "It marked your grandfather as worthy. You should remain proud."
Sebastian nodded, a small defiant spark kindling in his chest. "I'm going to come back, you know. Next season, maybe. We'll find the loreling together, and I'll bring proof back to the village."
Iihljiwaas opened his mouth to respond when a sharp snap cut through their conversation. Both boys jerked their heads up to see one of the canoe’s sails flapping wildly, its supporting rope frayed and unraveling rapidly.
The woven, cedar bark sails billowed dangerously, threatening to tear free completely. Several members of the boat’s crew scrambled across the deck, but Sebastian could tell they were too far to reach it in time. The sail's wooden beam swung like a pendulum, gaining momentum with each arc.
Iihljiwaas stepped forward, his posture shifting with purpose. His fingers moved to the black feather crystal hanging at his chest, closing around it with practiced familiarity. Sebastian recognized the gesture. He had seen it enough times in the past three months to know what would follow.
Raven Feather Air Crystal
"Stand back," Iihljiwaas said, the words carrying an authority beyond his years.
Sebastian obeyed, retreating several steps but unable to tear his eyes away. Iihljiwaas raised his free hand, palm upward toward the troubled sail. His movements subtle, fingers curling slightly.
The air around them shifted. The black feather crystal began to emanate a deep, resonant energy that materialized in the atmosphere around them. Iihljiwaas made circular motions with his raised hand, tracing unseen patterns in front of him.
The chaotic wind around the flapping sail began to steady, spiraling into a controlled current that wrapped around the loose canvas like an invisible hand. The loose rope, which had been whipping frantically, slowed its movement. The sail held steady, billowing gently in the contrived breeze.
Sebastian's mouth hung open. No matter how many times he witnessed magic like that, it never failed to leave him in awe. The casual way Iihljiwaas commanded the air around them, as if asking the wind for a favor rather than bending it to his will, filled Sebastian with a yearning so intense it was almost painful.
Iihljiwaas extended his other hand, allowing the crystal to dangle freely around his neck. The controlled current of air tightened around the rope, guiding it back toward the deck where two crewmen waited to secure it.
With one final, precise movement of his hands, Iihljiwaas directed the wind to hold the sail steady while the men tied the rope. Only when the last knot was secured did he lower his hands, the glow of his crystal gradually fading. He took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing as he returned to his usual calm demeanor.
"That was incredible," Sebastian whispered, his eyes wide with wonder. "You made it look so easy."
Iihljiwaas gently shook his head. "Not easy. Three years of training, and there is still much to learn. My father says I rush sometimes. Did you notice how the sail fluttered before settling?"
Sebastian hadn't noticed any imperfection, but he nodded anyway, trying to understand. The intricacies of magic were still foreign to him. "What does it feel like? Controlling the wind like that?"
Iihljiwaas considered the question with characteristic thoughtfulness. "It is not control, exactly. More like... a conversation. The air has its own will, its own patterns. I must use the power of suggestion rather than command."
Sebastian looked at the black feather crystal, now back to its dark and slightly iridescent appearance, no longer glowing with inner power. It hung against Iihljiwaas's chest, unassuming yet potent. "You're so lucky," he said quietly, unable to keep a note of longing from his voice. "To have been chosen. To be given magic."
Iihljiwaas touched the crystal gently, his fingers tracing its outline with reverence. "The receiving of an elemental crystal is both honor and burden. Xhuuya does not bestow such gifts lightly."
"Xhuuya is your creator deity, right?" Sebastian asked, recalling stories told around evening fires during his stay at the House of the Two-Finned Orca.
Iihljiwaas tilted his head, considering. "Not a deity as you might understand it," he said carefully. "Our relationship with Xhuuya is... more complex. He found the first of our people washed ashore in a clamshell and taught them how to live, yes. But many stories also tell of his adventures, his clever tricks, his mistakes and sorrows."
"What was it like? When you were given the crystal?" Sebastian couldn't help but ask, hungry for details of the magical process.
"I was brought to a sacred island during the winter solstice," Iihljiwaas recalled, his voice taking on a reverent quality. "The elders performed the ceremony beneath the stars, calling out to Xhuuya. When the great black, feathered deity descended, it felt like being inside the breath of the land itself. Xhuuya plucked one of his own feathers and it crystalized before my very eyes, levitating through the air into my palm." He touched the feather again.
"But, how does it feel when you use it, I mean. Does it... change you?" Sebastian continued.
"It doesn't change me," Iihljiwaas replied after a thoughtful pause. "It reveals me. The crystal responds to what already exists within—my nature, my intentions, my understanding of air and its patterns. A water crystal would lie dormant in my hands, just as an earth crystal would remain silent for one whose spirit reflects the burning of the flame."
Sebastian had heard similar explanations before, but they never satisfied his thirst to understand, to experience magic firsthand rather than a mere witness. He stared down at his own hands, ordinary hands that had never channeled anything more mystical than fishing line.
"There are no gods here," he said finally, the words emerging more bitter than he'd intended. "The village turned away from magic generations ago. We don't even speak of the old deities except in children's bedtime stories." He looked up at Iihljiwaas, unable to hide the longing in his eyes. "It's not likely I'll ever receive a crystal of my own."
Iihljiwaas placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, his touch light but grounding. "The world is wider than your village believes, Sebastian. Deities walk paths unseen by those who refuse to look. Perhaps you were meant to journey with us these past few months not just to witness our ways but to prepare you for your own calling."
Sebastian glanced up, surprised. "You think I have a calling?"
"I think," Iihljiwaas said carefully, "that those who yearn for understanding are often given opportunities to find it. The thunder loreling may not have revealed itself fully to us, but it allowed you a glimpse of its presence. That is not insignificant."
Sebastian nodded as the canoe bumped gently against the dock. Around them, Iihljiwaas's people were uncoiling ropes and organizing their wares. His eyes traced the familiar white path winding up from the beach toward the clustered homes of Laguna Mariposa. After everything he had experienced, how could he possibly step back into a world where magic was taboo, where tales of adventure earned pitying looks rather than amazement.
His reluctant expression was quickly discovered by Iihljiwaas. "Your journey is just beginning, Sebastian," he said. "The world has many paths, and the one meant for you will reveal itself in time."
"You sound like my grandfather," Sebastian stated affectionately.
"I merely echo what the wind has taught me," Iihljiwaas responded.
Sebastian stepped onto the familiar dock, its weathered planks creaking beneath his feet. The smell of home struck him with the familiar aroma of salted air and honeyed blossoms that grew along the village paths, wrapping around him like chains of a fragrant memory. He inhaled deeply, the maritime scents awakening the faded reality of village life he had locked away inside him. He turned back to Iihljiwaas, as he braced himself for a homecoming that felt like stepping away from a world he'd only previously imagined.
"Thank you," he said simply. "For everything."
Iihljiwaas made a small gesture with his free hand. Not magic this time, but the traditional farewell of his people. "Until our paths cross again, may the wind carry you stories worth remembering."
Sebastian mimicked the gesture and gave a final farewell nod. As he began walking the path from dock to village, he felt two halves of his life pulling at him from opposite directions. A spark of excitement flickered as he anticipated his grandfather's face lighting up at tales of the loreling sighting, and Derek leaning forward, eyes wide with wonder at each adventurous detail. As his house came into view, he wondered if there might be a way to bridge those worlds, a way to bring some of the wonder he'd witnessed back to Laguna Mariposa.
Mythologue:
Sebastian | 0009
Iihljiwaas | 0010