Chapter 4

In Thalassia, Ellirae, into the Correxium’s chamber she walked, shoulders pinched, marks dim. To the walls the darkness clung, providing only one place to go: the white circle in the blue floor.

Ahead, the seven council members, from a high crescent table, sat, staring down at her. Fancy strips of cloth in solid colors they wore—tans and reds and greens, all lacking the same vibrancy of the surface.

Wealth and power their clothes displayed. But more importantly, their marks the fabric concealed. Even so, hard it was not to know their emotions: anger and disappointment.

Her marks, however, free to see they were. Vulnerable and naked they made her feel. Her breath shook, and among her dim marks, a few flashed and flickered like drained light crystals.

“Ellirae,” Yolarious, Speaker of the Correxium, said. In the center she sat, her long seashell-orange hair, down the middle it was parted. “Of the hunters you are?”

“Y-yes,” Ellirae said, her voice small, her throat dry. “Council member,” she quickly added, nearly forgetting.

This, so very bad it was. Impress the Correxium she needed, or an explorer she would be not. All the control they had. At this rate, her hunting license would be revoked, and back to the algae farms she would go.

“Sentinel Kolagic,” the Speaker said, “beyond the wardline reports finding you. Aware, are you not, that in the designated areas hunters must remain?”

“Yes, council member.”

At a stone tablet the woman glanced, then back. “A first offense this is. I trust, a good explanation you have?”

A lie, Ellirae could not think of, so truth it was. Or . . . a version of the truth, one that invited leniency. And perhaps an opportunity this was to share her findings as a hunter for the betterment of all.

Soft at first she spoke, explaining how she had found the tower’s rubble that held the symbols. To be a dutiful hunter, she investigated the cause and came upon Barnacle Sharks.

The council members, shocked they looked, and maybe a little impressed? Encouraging that was.

In her effort to survive, far beyond the wardline she had to flee. A very reasonable thing she thought as she recounted the slightly modified incidents. Her voice, stronger it became as the events, different it painted her story.

“The fish, more plentiful they are,” she said and might have added a few unseen rare species only the council members could appreciate. Explore this area she had not, but reasonable it was, among so many fish, rare ones would exist.

By this time, excitement blurred caution, and words about the island slipped free.

“To the surface you went?” council member Marvivin asked. Braided green hair he had. One uncovered mark on his neck, twice it flashed.

The warmth in Ellirae’s marks cooled. Idiot she was! She swallowed. “I . . . well . . .” she said, trying to find a good excuse to placate the angry stare.

The Speaker, her hand she raised, regaining the floor. “What reason for a hunter to leave the sea is there?”

Ellirae, her mouth she opened, then shut. Her marks flickered, and the silence, uncomfortable it grew. Behind her she looked as if running away, an option it somehow was.

It was not.

Her the guards watched. Of course, despite the desire to flee, nowhere there was to go.

“Speak you will,” Yolarious said.

“Y-yes, council member,” Ellirae said, turning back and wetting her lips. Only one thing to her mind came, so the truth—the actual truth—she told about wanting to be an explorer, dreaming about it for years to see the world.

To be so close to an island and explore not its mysteries, too much it was. She only meant for a quick look. But fruit she found and thought how others may want it.

“And pineapple,” she added, the word having an immediate effect. A prized find it was. With interest piqued, she said, “By a human gifted. Trade can—”

The council members gasped.

She tensed. Idiot she was! “N-not a real human,” she said with a weak giggle, but the lie, hollow it felt. “It-it-it, on a . . . statue, humans left. Yes.”

Marvivin, abruptly he stood and glowered. “To a human you spoke?”

“No, speak to humans I would not!” Except, she had. Every word, another lie it was. Every word, expressions hardened as they glared down at her, judgment in their eyes.

“To Correxium you speak. How dare you twist truths. A hunter you are—a delegate you are not.”

Speaker Yolarious, her hand she raised and called for a discussion. Marvivin huffed and sat. The seven council members spoke not. But the witnesses in the darkness, they were, and Ellirae’s fate they would decide.

Oh no . . . too soon it felt. Understand they did not! More details she wanted to share, details to explain why nothing she did would cause harm.

Only human women were bad. The men, docile they were. Good for pets they were.

A terrible and heavy weight, in her stomach it lodged. Her marks flickered, and tears she blinked back. Guilty she looked. Guilty she was!

A figure, all in black, out from the darkness they stepped, holding a stone slate. The Deliverer, to Speaker Yolarious they walked and handed the slate over before disappearing again.

Ellirae, her breath she held, jaw tight. Around her chest her arms clung, waiting torturous seconds for the consequences of her actions.

Speaker Yolarious, at the darkness she nodded, placing the slate on the high crescent desk. In the silence, an audible click it made.

“Our laws you did not just break,” she said, voice solemn. “Endanger our lives, our way of being, you did. Irresponsible your actions were. Better a hunter knows, thus making your actions inexcusable.”

Her back she straightened, eyeing the slate before continuing. “Normally, a first offense would merit leniency. But your insatiable curiosity and unwillingness to follow laws, our hand you force.”

Slowly, with their fists, the seven council members pounded their chests in rhythm. Before the verdict was given, their support they showed.

“Ellirae,” Speaker Yolarious said, “henceforth, for the intentional breaking of our laws, from Thalassia you are banished.”

Banished?