Username:
Hello there, my name is Alva.
Kia Name:
Perla
Perla is Spanish for "pearl". This idea came from her ocean theme, and the two languages spoken in Costa Rica are English and Spanish, hence her name coming from the Spanish language.
Gender:
Female
Shiners and Barbed-toothed ServantsWord Count: 2,230
“We believe that the ocean is a god in itself;
An entity that keeps families together,
And tears them apart.
We depend on Her generosity,
And fear Her wrath;
The Shiners are Her gifts,
And the Barbed-toothed, her servants.
Many say that because She gives us everything,
She needs payment in return.
Sometimes She will let loose terrible storms,
That destroys our entire village,
Taking everything we were given by Her
Back.
And sometimes She goes as far as to steal one of our own.
It occurs without warning,
As Her greedy hands tug at her feet,
Her servants grab her limbs,
Immobilizing her,
And takes her to the depths,
Where Her heart lies…”
Cerulean waves crashed to shore, washing away the footprints that covered the stark-white sands. Perla trudged through the sopping sand, the wind gouging at her face with tiny, razor-blade like grains. She took shelter under a dead palm, now dried by the salty air. Perla opened her mouth, tasting the salt on her lips, and heaved a great sigh. The spot where she sat now brought back memories; vague memories, yes, but quite real. She remembered Oyster, her father, and his scent. He smelled of salt water, eroded rocks, and dead fish. Another scent lingered nearby, its owner clutching the then very small Perla; she smelled of an ocean breeze, salty and refreshing. She must have spent every summer evening like this. She recognized her father, but the lady cradling her didn’t come to mind. Perla suspected it was her mother, but she could never be sure; whenever she brought the subject up, her father would scowl at the thundering waters and trudge away, leaving a frightening silence. After happening a few times, Perla stopped asking; whenever he became silent like that, it was a clear sign that it was not a matter he wanted to discuss.
Perla blinked back into focus, leaving her nostalgia and looked over to where a muffled sucking sound came from. It was Oyster, her father, walking through the wet sand to where she sat. He settled down beside her, and both of them stayed silent. Perla unconsciously picked at her necklace; a single, iridescent pearl, about the size of a fisheye, was strung around her neck. She fidgeted with it, as she always did when she was nervous. Normally she was very relaxed around her father, but the tension in the air was so thick, you could cut it like a knife through butter. Perla itched to get up and leave, but her father clearly had something on his mind that he wanted to share. Was he angry with the thieves in the market? Or perhaps a sickness was spreading again, like last summer? Perla couldn’t be sure.
Oyster closed his eyes, and like Perla, clutched his own necklace; it was an oyster shell, like his name. He sighed, breathing in the salty air, and opened his eyes. He seemed to have remembered something, because he stared off for a while before finally speaking.
“Perla.”
Perla kept looking at the waves, their cycle of rising and then receding mesmerizing her. “Yes?”
“Perla, listen to me when I say this, and follow it closely; don’t you ever go into the water. Do you understand?”
Perla’s face became hot, and she felt her face get red. “What? No water?! But the ocean is everything to me! It’s my only escape from that wretched place-” she flicked her tail towards the village.
“Perla, lis-”
“No, shut-up; for once, let me speak. Every evening I come home, hoping for a nice, stress-free supper with you, but the moment I walk through the door, you set off ranting about the problems you face running this village, just like every other night! I can’t stand it anymore; I don’t know how mother ever dealt with you-”
Oyster cringed at the word ‘mother’, and Perla realized she had said too much. “Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”
“No, Perla, it’s just fine.” He brushed his tail across her lips, silencing her as he spoke on, “I know you’ve been asking about your mother and your necklace. Perla, I want you to listen carefully; it’s about time I told you.”
Oyster sat up straight, forcing Perla to look at him. “Do you know how a pearl comes to be?”
Perla shook her head. She knew it came from clams and oysters, but she didn’t know exactly how they came to be.
“A pearl is the product of an oyster, something crudely sculpted, gruff, and ugly. Like me.”
Perla smiled a little; at least her father was feeling better enough to make fun of his sea-hag appearance.
“However, there is another ingredient involved; something soft and gentle, that must take its place as well.”
He looked at Perla, and then went on, “Sand, Perla, sand and an oyster together make a pearl. You see, when sand comes and meets and oyster, they produce something beautiful, and something fragile; a pearl. That’s why I have my oyster necklace, and that is why you have you pearl necklace.”
Perla glanced down at her necklace; so that was it, just some ordinary pearl?
No, there was a double meaning to this story. “So, what happened to the third necklace?”
Her father stared right through her, like she was invisible. He sat up, and scowled at the sea like he had some unfinished business with it.
“At the bottom of the ocean.”
* * *
Perla trotted briskly through the damp sand, kicking up white puffs as she went. The sun was already high in the sky, and Perla needed a place to cool off.
The ocean, she thought, but the conversation that she had had with her father the night before came back to mind.
“Perla, listen to me when I say this, and follow it closely; don’t you ever go into the water. Do you understand?”She kicked an empty shell in frustration. Why couldn’t she go into the water? She was born to swim, to be amongst its gentle waves and reassuring currents. She knew the ocean better than anyone else, so why should she be restrained? She shook her head, clearing her thoughts, and sprinted into the rolling waves.
The transition from the dry heat to the cool water was exhilarating. Perla felt like she could run from one end of the beach to the other for hours. She swam with the waves, rising and receding, until she was in calming waters, past the breaking surf. She paddled through the crystal-clear waters, taking in the scenery.
She gulped in the refreshing air, her cheeks bulging with the precious oxygen, and dived into the depths below.
It was a completely different world below the surface, like she had been teleported to another dimension. The sounds from the world above were drowned out by the constantly moving waters. Tropical fish swam in front of Perla, like an underwater kaleidoscope. She followed them as they lead her deeper and deeper into the depths. Sunlight filtered through the water, casting her and the ocean floor in a pale blue light. Perla continued to swim, having been underwater for over a minute and still going strong. Her father had always told her when she was little that the water was a dangerous place for one so small, and he must have assumed that she would never venture into it. Perla was a free spirit, though, and had taken her first steps into the water the night of her feather ceremony.
She glanced down at her yellow feathers, standing out against the blue floor. The two feathers had been plucked from the tropical parrots that inhabited this island, whose feathers were reserved for only the most respected Kiamaras on the island. Perla, being the daughter of the chief of the island, had been able to possess such exclusive plumage.
Lost deep in her thoughts, Perla had failed to notice the swift and aggressive movements of an object moving a few hundred yards away.
The scales of the Shiners, a very fresh and delicious fish harvested regularly by her village, swam by in a school of several hundred fish. They seemed to waltz with the sunlight as it danced off their silver scales. Perla floated nearby, watching their ballet intently. At the four minute mark, Perla felt the need for air. All of her time spent in the water had trained her lungs and mind to conserve as much oxygen as possible, but she couldn’t hold it forever.
Perla shot up through the depths, stopping every few feet to let her body adjust to the pressure to prevent the bends. Like her lungs, her body could adapt to the water pressures quickly, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Perla left from her last stop, and began to swim to the surface again, mere feet from the sunlit crests.
Out of the corner of her eye, Perla spotted a flash of silver dart towards her. She turned her head just in time to see the maw of a Barbed-tooth closing in on her jugular. Perla darted out of the way like she was a fish, and continued to the surface, hoping to refill her deflated lungs and make a dash to the beach.
She could feel the water moving behind her; the current flow was unnatural, caused by the Barbed-tooth’s irregular movements stirring up the water. She was mere inches from air when the creature sunk its dagger-like teeth into Perla’s hind leg. It dragged her down, and Perla felt a shift in the water; it wasn’t as gentle or relaxing. It felt… angry, like it was trying to help the Barbed-tooth and drag Perla into the depths. Perla scrambled frantically, fighting against the monster’s gouging grip and the ocean itself. She hung on frantically to her last bubble of air, but her lungs were beginning to feel like they were shrinking. The edges of her vision became black and fuzzy, and wave after wave of dizziness washed over Perla.
I can’t pass out! Not now! Perla kicked the Barbed-tooth with her free leg, releasing its grasp on her. Perla hung in the water for a moment, trying to process what had happened. Before she could react, the creature darted through the water, straight towards Perla’s exposed neck. It was so close that Perla could see her necklace’s reflection in its eyes.
My necklace! Perla had heard of this creature before; a barracuda, which were attracted to shiny objects; just like Perla’s pearl necklace.
Perla flicked her head to the side, swinging her necklace away from her neck. The barracuda immediately adjusted its aim, heading straight for the free-floating pearl. It grasped it firmly in its jaws, and swam off.
That wasn’t the end, though. The necklace was still wrapped around Perla’s neck, and the oversized fish began submerging into the inky blackness below. The aggressive currents that Perla had felt earlier began to pick up again, taking Perla with the barracuda.
“NO!” she screamed, releasing her last bit of air. Bubbles foamed from her mouth, floating to the surface, carrying away her last bit of life. The barracuda continued its decent, but Perla still had some fight left in her. She jerked her neck as hard as she could, and heard a snap. The fish line that the pearl had adorned gave way under the immense pressure, and Perla was sent free. The barracuda sped away, the pearl still in its clutches, and disappeared into the depths below. Perla thought,
the heart of the ocean.
It was a servant, and it was going to take me away. A terrible, furious scream bellowed out from where the barracuda had disappeared, and it shook Perla like a palm frond in a hurricane. The scream was vaguely feminine, and terrible, frightening thoughts ran through Perla’s mind. She had no time to analyze them, though, and with her very last bit of energy, she broke through the surface above.
* * *
Perla lay under the dried palm, heaving and sighing with great gasps in between. She had just witnessed a near-death experience. A little too near. The thoughts that had sprouted in her mind began to return as new oxygen rushed to her brain.
The barracuda.The pearl.The scream.It all made sense now. The ocean was trying to take its payment, just as the stories had fortold. Only
she was the payment. The barracuda was like a tax collector, taking what the village owed to the ocean. She had escaped, though. How many others had suffered that fate; of never seeing the sunlight again? Of being killed by the very thing that brought them life? Perla shuddered. She realized what her father had meant when he said the third necklace was at the bottom of the ocean. The ocean had received a similar payment before, the same situation had occurred. Only she hadn’t been lucky. Perla had survived, yes, but the last victim had been swallowed, taken to the heart of the ocean.
Now she knew why her father didn’t like talking about her mother.
Why he gave pained looks to the ocean.
Why he had told her not to go into the water all these years.
Perla curled up next to the palm, the place where she had laid with her mother last, and began to cry.
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Thanks a lot! 
