Since the day I was born, the ocean was my friend. And where I come from, the island of Milaki on Corona, second planet of the Montaravin Nebula, that’s much of what surrounds us. Corona is known as the world submerged by the ocean, because much of our planet is covered in water and only small slabs of land manage to rise above it. And when combined with the fresh breeze on the tranquil currents, the bright blue sky produced by our rotation past the Binary, and the gentle crashing of waves on the beach, it really is a paradise planet. But I don’t take to the vanity aspect of my homeworld - that’s left for the awestruck visitors when they come. Rather, my fascination is what lies below the water. In the absence of much land, most of Corona’s population is limited to sea creatures who come in a variety of shapes and sizes and have seemingly developed a culture independent of the ones we humans have. Since I was fifteen, I’ve gone on solo dives into the water near our island and seen small sea caves and entire colonies of small and large fish around the native Sekellium Reefs that keep the water around our island pure and clean. Then there’s swimming along with the Pagaroks which fly in the air but then dive underwater to collect their meals and can sustain their breath underwater for hours at a time, or even gently riding aboard a giant Maru. The Maru in particular are the most incredible deep-water creatures in Corona’s oceans, some getting to be the size of a Xenarian space freighter and featuring skin that’s smooth as glass but soft like a mattress. This is because they store a lot of fat in their skin as an added warmth layer given that they come from the coldest depths of our oceans. During the migration season, Maru will pass our island and come up to the surface to gather heat from the sun, which they can store in their skin and then use to warm the rest of their body later on.
My mom, Queen Tevelia Aegara of the Village of Milaki, used to say that I spend more time in the water than on land to the point that she thinks I might as well live underwater. Maybe that’s true, because I’ve always had a psychological connection with the water, yet I always enjoy coming up for my breath of air on land and walking around on steady ground just to balance my thoughts.
Oh by the way, I said my mom was queen of our island, which if you guessed correctly, makes me a princess and heir to the throne. But like the rest of my life, it’s nothing to get excited over: there’s no special crown or initiation ceremony, no special privileges or exquisite powers, and certainly nothing handed to you on a golden plate. On Milaki, my people believe that a real leader is someone among the common folk who willingly takes the responsibilities to ensure balance within our village, tries their best to resolve conflict, and ensures fair and impartial judgment when a transgression occurs on our soil or in the locality of our water.
But swimming isn’t the only thing I do in my spare time. Thanks to my Uncle Jin, brother to my father King Aruna Aegara, I’m also an engineer. It’s hard to believe on a world so engulfed in water, but if you swim around the right parts or dig on the right islands, you can find ships and machines of various time periods buried deep below. Where they come from exactly is a mystery, but Coronean mythology says that much of it is the result of ancient industrial technology buried here from Xenarus long ago but cleansed of all potential poisons to allow the growth of reefs such as our Sekellium Colonies. Some stories, however, say that a handful of these relics are long buried remains of vessels used in old territorial battles for possession of the planet. With such access to this technology, Milaki and a few other islands have been able to build moderate advancements to our villages in order to better sustain our society and remove as much non-natural material from the ocean if it hasn’t already been synthesized into our vast underwater ecosystem. Some islands have used it to build small ships and gliders to explore the ocean beyond, but Milaki has used its recovered technology to harness the sun and wind for power as well as build tidal actuators that drive some of the mills on our small island country by responding to the back and forth motions of the waves and covert the motion into additional energy.
And to prove that I have a love for the land as well as the water, during the Cycles of Jarreto and Yamuhra, which are respectively the planting and harvesting seasons, I always enjoy spending time in the fields helping to plant crops and smooth out the soil to ensure a balanced growth among the plants. It’s said that if we keep the soil even and soft, the plants on our island will have more access to the air and can mature quicker the minute they poke their first stems up. And when harvesting season comes, I’m with the farmers and their children, helping to spot the ripest crops and gently removing them without disturbing the soil to be taken back to our carts.
But I’ve also put some of our island’s recovered technology to my personal use: my best invention so far is a solar hover glider I call Vastura, which in the ancient tongue means “Sweeping Wind.” Sometimes when the Binary is at its peak in the day, I take Vastura out, rushing up the beach to get some speed and then flipping up the seven meter-high mast, allowing her solar sail to take the brunt of the heat and light before I hop on and steady myself. Vastura doesn’t use an engine, though: parts for that are quite hard to find on or near Milaki and the glider is light enough that a fuel tank or fusion chamber would greatly offset her balance. Instead, she uses a simple hover system that converts the solar energy from her sail into invisible wave pulses - these interact with the water’s surface and push her forward or backward depending on how I angle both her lightweight Netonik hull and the pulse emitters themselves. Not only is this more efficient and speedy, but it also reduces how often Vastura touches the water’s surface; I made this a priority because there are some tranquil parts of our ocean which have very sensitive wildlife not that deep down and who are easily scared by large vessels or other loud sounds. Maru in particular are sensitive to loud noises and, especially when migrating with their pups, will respond aggressively at even the slightest signs of danger. Compared to actual boats, Vastura simply glides with a gentle whoosh across the water and makes the barest ripples whenever I hold her still.
Then recently, there’s practicing Raidessa Kai on the beach: in the same stretchy jumpsuit and lightweight boots I use while riding Vastura, I dance to the rhythms of the ocean while using what I’ve learned of the ancient art to calm my heart and spirit. Everything from the arm twists to the gentle and graceful twirls, the rolling of my hands to the gentle movement of my legs helps me lose focus of anything troubling me that day. They say that Raidessa practitioners can conjure up balls of energy using this art, which can in turn be used for personal defense. And while I have felt tremors of activity within my body during my practice, I haven’t come close to summoning anything from my hands. It’s for the better though, since I hate war and for the longest time never felt like my home was under threat to the point I would need to use combat tactics from the old eras to fight. Still, though, when I hear about things like resource conflicts in other parts of our planet because two islands can’t agree where one’s jurisdiction of the ocean ends and another’s begins, it worries me that someday this art may be needed. I first learned about Raidessa Kai from the Xenarian texts my family keeps in the library section of our modest castle. When I was about nineteen, a woman simply calling herself Aurorlia who came to visit our island witnessed my practice on the beach and told me something I wasn’t expecting to hear.
“You’re the first young girl I’ve seen practice that art who isn’t from Xenarus.” I’d later find out that Aurorlia was the current leader of an ancient sect called the Sisterhood of Gemini: the guardians of the Andromeda Crystals. These are elemental crystals that are known to have the power to control and balance the dynamics of natural elements such as the water, air, fire, and soil and are respectively colored a light blue, white teal, reddish orange, and emerald green. Mother later told me that Aurorlia had suggested I train to become a Zodiac, the name given to these young warrior girls, a large part of which would involve improving my technique in Raidessa Kai as well as being given an Andromeda Sword. Every Zodiac Sister carries a small, easy-to-wield sword that is made from Horganda Steel, a highly reactive metal rich on the storm planet Riargon that is closer to the binary than we are, and each sword’s blade is said to be infused with a fraction of power from the crystal most relevant to that warrior’s empathic feelings: in my case, that would be the water. Andromeda Swords, however, are rarely used for actual combat and more as a telekinetic conductor that allows the warrior to bend the motion of said element to meet a certain necessity. That being said, Zodiac Sisters must learn to resist the temptations of such power for fear that we will anger the universe with our vain demands and to instead use the sword to stabilize and correct rhythmic distortions in our respective elements.
I told Mom that I would think it over because, while being a Zodiac is indeed a title of respect among many Xenarian cultures just like a Star Soldier and it would deepen my connection with the sea, I was worried about leaving my village. Milaki is a beautiful and tranquil place to live even if it is nothing more than a small island, and there will come a time when I will need to return home and take my mother or father’s place. But more recently, things have been taking a turn for the worse on other parts of the planet. Some of the neighboring islands have been receiving reports of polluted waters to the south and western regions of Corona, and it’s clear that not enough is being done to contain and reverse the damage. And recently, I’ve started to feel tremors within my soul, almost like the ocean is sick and expressing its suffering to me. But even with a glider like Vastura, the lands where the pollution is reportedly occurring are too far away for me to safely travel to on my own and hope to navigate back home from. And even if I could travel all the way out there and safely return, it sounds like the pollution around some of these lands is reaching a point that one person alone can’t abate its effects.
In the end, this leaves me with a feeling of dread and emptiness. Sometimes at night, I sit by the window in my room and look out at the ocean, feeling guilty that in spite of my best efforts I can’t find a way to cure what’s happening to our ocean and quite possibly our planet. On a couple occasions, it’s even brought tears to my eyes to think that I’m not doing enough to save our water. One night after dinner, father found me down in the library in my nightdress, reading through some of the old oceanic research charters and trying to figure out if there was some way the natural currents could impede the pollution in the south and west and how I might be able to further aid those effects. Now the desire of becoming a Zodiac was growing within me, but I was still conflicted.
“Capella, what is the matter?” father asked me when he noticed my head bowed down a bit. I didn’t respond initially, but as my search was yielding no promising results, I soon let the book drop between my feet before I stood up and told him everything that worried me.
“How can people be so wasteful with the resources they have, father?” I asked. “Why can’t the other islands just live harmoniously with the sea like we do? Why?”
Father took his time finding the right words to respond to my question. Then he replied, “An ocean is never fully pure, Capella. As clean and tranquil as the water is, you will find areas that are unwelcoming, creatures that will not respect who you are even if you do them no harm, and the sea will not always move in a manner you so desire.”
“But isn’t there something we can do, father?”
“Capella, we are not an empire. We cannot control the actions of others just to uphold our own personal desires.”
“But I’m not doing this for myself, father. I’m doing this for the ocean. So much of our planet relies upon a clean and lucious sea, and I don’t want to see any of it go.”
Tears started to well up in my eyes and my chest began to shiver with an uncomfortable surge. Father, from whom I inherited my gift of telepathy, could sense my distress and held out his arms for me to cry into. I took the embrace and cried softly into his arms before taking in a salty breath and telling him, “I feel so powerless, father. I want to do the right thing, but every day I feel like I’m only benefitting myself and making hardly any impact. And no matter what I do, the world I love is just going to end and there’s not a blessed thing I can do to stop it. I don’t want to keep living like this father. I can’t bear it….I can’t.”
I felt the hum of his bones in his chest as he took a deep breath and thought about what to say to me next. But instead of just another reply, father briefly stroked my hair and then replied, “Come with me, Capella. There’s something I want to show you. And get your shoes on, because we’ll need to go outside to get there.”
Slipping on my brown fabric walking boots but leaving the rest of my nightdress on, I followed my father outside. The evening was cool but not too chilly, so I didn’t feel much of a shiver as I walked with father down the path to the back of the castle. Normally, there wasn’t anything here, but father brushed his hand over the stonework before pulling one of the blocks out partially and using his knee to gently push another one in. Slowly, a hidden door opened inward and allowed us to walk inside. As we made our way down the steps, the door closed gently behind us and a series of small electronic torches lit the way down a curved staircase. At the bottom, we found a small prayer room surrounded by tapestries and small natural artifacts that the village elders said were charmed and had protected the castle and the island for decades from tidal flooding and other natural curses. But father soon came to the center of the room and slowly knelt down on his knees before looking at one of the tapestries, and I took a seat beside him.
“Where is it now? I know I saw it somewhere a long time ago,” father muttered to himself.
“Father, what are you searching for?” I asked patiently.
“Somewhere on one of these tapestries is a rendition of a certain object,” he replied. “Like a being in the air. I just wish I knew….there…no that’s not it. Hmm.”
I began searching too, but without a better understanding of what we were looking for, I felt just about as clueless as father. Then I spotted a being on a tapestry to our left: it was a sewn in figure of a young woman with her hand out and a bird alighting on it. Her feet were surrounded by the water, but her hair flapped out backward in response to the wind, and the faintest expression of calm lay upon the small figure’s face.
“Is that her?” I asked, pointing to the hieroglyphic drawing.
“Well, that’s Aquaria,” father replied. “She’s the guardian of the sea, the founder of our village, and legend has it she too was a Zodiac in her time. And considering what that lady Aurorlia said about you not that long ago, it sounds like that might be a fitting path for you.” I was tempted to scoot closer and look at the drawing some more, but father quickly added, “But that’s not who I’m looking…ah, there he is.”
“He?” I was quite surprised to hear this, so I looked back and saw father staring at the tapestry on the right. On this portrayal, I saw a being kneeling before a creature I could assume was one of the land mammals on another island: he had a sword on his back, but his hand, just like the woman on the opposite tapestry, was open and it was evident that the creature before him was accepting his offer. But the other hand was also open, and this had a small gem sewn in as though to imply the presence of energy, though it was also being held in a gentle, open-handed gesture. Moving right wise along the tapestry, outlined threads and ink markings showed the barest traces of what looked like a ship, like one of the old scraps we could find deep underwater. But some teal ink that had faded to a dark blue was also written over this faded outline, and it showed a winged shield icon. My eyes widened when I saw it: that was the Mark of Polaris, the emblem of one of the ancient Montaravin deity forces, which meant this was a Xenarian ship.
“Father, is that who you’re talking about?” I asked.
“Yes, and assuming nothing’s been moved, there should be a small parchment in the drawer of the table just below that illustration.”
Standing up on my knees, I opened the drawer slowly and, after waving away some airborne dust, recovered a small tube used normally for storing old historical scrolls in our culture.
“Do you want me to read it, father?” I asked, slowly unrolling the fragile parchment to reveal the words that, while faded, were still easy to read and in big enough font that I didn’t need to squint.
“Yes, but do it out loud,” father encouraged. “The spoken word is stronger than the implied thought.”
With a gentle nod, I began.
“In the darkest points in time, it is easy for one to assume they are all alone. That one shall show them no care and respect and that one shall never be able to find the brightness of peace. But every warrior who chooses the path of respect, honor, love and friendship will never truly be alone. Whenever darkness is all that surrounds you, know that someone will always be there for you, appearing in your time of greatest need to give you advice which you can draw upon to make yourself stronger. However, that one shall come from an origin least expected and will not be an all-knowing soul.
That one who serves as your encouragement may very well be a troubled soul themselves, with no place from which to draw that wisdom other than their desire to do good. While you will most likely never see their torment to the fullest extent, know that they will need you too. When they give you advice, it is of equal vitality that you give advice to that one as well. For a humble soul without any recognition of their efforts at peace will only ensure their own downfall, and the one chance at light will disappear. Only by completing the circuit of love with another being, even one not of your direct relation, can any sentient being ever truly be happy. Together, and only together, can sentient beings truly overcome the darkest horrors and find the light, often where it is least expected you will find it.”
I looked over some of these lines again, then back to the figure with his hand open to the creature. But now that I was closer to the tapestry, I noticed something else: both the creature and the figure kneeling before it were wounded, with little multi-colored ribbons barely visible on the side of the man and on the front most leg of the creature he knelt before.
“You see, Capella? You’re never alone,” father calmly encouraged. “When you dedicate your heart and soul to helping others, then others will come to help you in return. But it’s an exchange of kindness, not a one-way effort. And even if reality makes things look bleak, as long as you keep your faith, there will always be a chance to make things right.”
Again, the tears came to my eyes, but I didn’t feel tempted to cry as I now felt a lighter sensation in my heart. But then I looked once more at the Mark of Polaris and then the ship which stood in the background of the inscribed marking.
“Father? Was it you or mother who once told me a story of a legendary warrior who could fly? Is that who you were talking about?” I asked, turning back to look into his warm and calm eyes.
“I believe we’ve both told you stories of those exact beings,” Father replied. “But they are said to only come in times of greatest need. I only wanted to show that to you because I want to remind you that The Preface of Rejuvenation, that scripture I asked you to read, was written by one of those beings exactly because they wanted to empower all other sentient life to be as gallant and humble as they are said to be. And Capella, with a heart as soft as yours yet a mind so dedicated and hands so creative, I know you will make a difference. Your time may not be here yet, but it will come, just like it did for your mother and I, and just like it did for Aquaria. And when it does, somebody will be there to help you, but it all hinges on what you do to make that happen.”
The relief that now washed away my sorrow like waves on the sand was starting to make me drowsy, and Father could once again sense it.
“Now, come on, youngin,” that was the nickname my father used to call me when I was a little girl, “you’re starting to lose your fight against the powers of sleep. Let’s get you back up to your room and you can sleep on what we’ve seen down here.”
But even as I lay in bed, my mind couldn’t fully shut down as it was now flooded with questions. The chief question: what exactly would be “my moment” and who would come to help me handle the struggle that came with it?