by SilhouetteStation » Mon Jul 12, 2021 9:09 am
Username: SilhouetteStation
Name: Kaien
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
The witch says she found me in the water, playing in the rock pools alone one night under the light of a full moon. She didn't know what to think. There I was, calm as anything, splashing around and collecting seashells in my pockets. She was stunned, obviously. For awhile she waited to see if anyone else was around, but no one came. I wasn't afraid, but I was certainly alone. As she made to approach me there was a moment when my hands were out of the water, and the surface stilled enough to reflect the moon. She said I just sat there, gazing at it like I was hypnotized. When she took a step forward to reveal herself I looked up, and my eyes seemed to be glowing with the moonlight. I didn't cry at this stranger, or protest in her wanting to take me home. I welcomed it, in fact; I reached up with my chubby toddler hands, and she scooped me up into her arms. As we walked along the beach her bare feet left soft prints in the sand, and the lull of the waves made me fall asleep on the way back.
I've been with her ever since.
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The townsfolk call her a sea witch. Really, she's just a witch who happens to live by the sea. Koravos is an oceanside town, famous for its trade market, with a big port for ships to dock. The main town itself is actually situated at the top of the cliff. A road runs down the hill to the port at the bottom. Just outside of the port on a stretch of grass and sand dunes, with a view of the beach that runs beneath the cliff, is where our home is.
It's a lovely wooden cottage, reinforced with twisting pieces of driftwood washed up by the sea. There's a porch on the front with two rocking chairs, the second one purchased after I arrived. Multiple windchimes and dreamcatchers hang in and around the house. She makes them - now with my help - to be sold at the markets, alongside her potions and ingredients. Inside is exactly as a sea witch's house should be; cozy and coastal, with a hint of magic and mystery. The kitchen table is draped in a frayed cloth with a driftwood planter centerpiece, and there always seems to be glass bottles scattered about. A mismatched couch and armchair sit in the sunroom. We've got woven rugs on the floor and knitted quilts on our beds. My favorite thing has to be the huge window at the front of the house. Sunlight pours in during summer days. You can watch the wind and rain of ocean storms churn up the waves and turn the water to foam. The sun rises over the horizon, and it feels like a privilege to witness it.
I feel privileged to be here.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
She calls me Moonchild. Anyone else can call me Kaien, and some people can call me Kai, but only she can call me Moonchild. I'm not sure if it started as a joke - a cutesy nickname based on how she found me - but as I got older, I realized she believed it. Every night she prays to the Moon Sprite, thanking them for me. She's always been honest about what happened after she found me. For weeks she tried finding my family, thinking that I must have wondered off. Every house was visited, every shopkeeper was questioned, and she must have shown me to hundreds of people to ask if they recognized me. None did. So she kept me.
At first she was worried that she was stealing a child away from their mother, but the longer no one came, the less guilt she felt. I certainly didn't complain. I took to living with her like a fish to water. In less than a year she said she couldn't remember life without me, and by that point she loved me too much to ever let me go. If I did have a family, she thinks I must have been abandoned. It's still a theory, but more so, she believes I was placed there as a gift. Whether the combined offspring of a mortal and a sprite, or perhaps created by the divine being themselves, she's convinced I'm connected to the Moon Sprite. She saw the reflection in my eyes that night; she said there was something magic in it. That there's something magic in me. And that is a lovely thought. I'm not sure there's anything specifically magical about me, but it's nice that she thinks so. It makes me feel special, anyway. Lucky, more so, that I ended up with such a lovely mother.
That's what she is to me, however I was made. She's the woman who raised me. She fed me, clothed me, tucked me into bed each night with a song and a kiss on the forehead. She taught me about the weather, and brewing potions, and how to be kind. We walk the beach together, two sets of prints in the sand. I still collect shells. Some decorate my room, and some become tied into dreamcatchers. From toddler to ten, this is how I've been raised.
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I'm twelve years old when she comes home one day looking frazzled, a vague and worried look in her eyes. She's not the type of person who worries easily, and it made me curious and nervous all the same. At first she put on a smile, brushing away my questions and working on unpacking food with slightly trembling hands. After a lot of pestering she finally gives in. "I just - saw someone today that looked a bit like you. Not from around here, I think. It just threw me off. But don't worry," she added with a reassuring smile. "It's probably just me being a bit paranoid. Nothing to think about." I do think about it, of course. I wasn't expecting that response. Back when I was young she used to think everyone looked like me, and it's been a long while since she said anything like that. I smile and say okay, and we hug, and then I help her to make dinner.
A few weeks later we're in the market. We hadn't discussed what she said any more, because there was nothing more to say. She saw them once, hadn't seen them since, and so she relaxed. I was still her Moonchild. It was in the back of my mind, but I ignored it for the most part. While she barters with one of the stall holders, I go off with a few coins of my own to buy myself a treat. I'm always eager for some saltwater taffy, or perhaps a honey cake for us to have later. I'm wandering the maze of shops and stalls, calling greetings to the owners I know, when I see them in the crowd. I know it's them for two reasons; I haven't seen them before, and they've got my eyes. I've seen my eyes in tide pool reflections hundreds of times before, so I know them in someone else's face. My footsteps falter for a moment as they turn their head in my direction, and they see me. We make eye contact.
There's no recognition at first. Then a slight furrowing of eyebrows, a slow expression of shock and confusion dawning across their face, and then - guilt. For half a second, guilt. And really, that's all it takes for me.
I keep my face blank, turn away, and keep walking. I don't look back. I don't stop to see if they keep staring, if their gaze follows me into the crowd. No one comes after me, and I'm glad. For a few moments I let myself imagine who they might be, why they've travelled here, why they travelled here ten years ago and left a child behind. Because I know I didn't imagine that guilt, and I know that whatever their reason, they left me behind.
It's a very odd feeling. It's hard to feel abandoned when I don't remember the person who left me. I don't feel any kind of sadness. I don't wonder about the other life I could have left. I find that, in my heart of hearts, I don't care. My earliest memories are of sand and sea spray, picking shells from ocean pools, running through beach grass on my way home to her. Always there, always warm, always with love.
She says I had moonlight in my eyes that night. Maybe she was right; maybe the Moon Sprite did give me to her. Maybe they saw a lost child and kept them safe, watched over them, until a real mother came along to take care of them.
I say nothing of the stranger I saw in the market. We walk back to our cottage with fresh potion ingredients and a honey cake to share, my Mother and her Moonchild.
Last edited by
SilhouetteStation on Mon Aug 02, 2021 8:56 pm, edited 5 times in total.
