Tides of Conjunction prologue

MARIHONUA: TIDES OF CONJUNCTION
Prologue • Scribed in Salt

The legends speak of a time before the Sky Mother and the Father of Ocean coupled together to give life to the Kohorarê. Some mention ancient ancestors, like the Kohorarê but different, exploring the sky and swimming through it as if afloat in a vast sea of light and dark.

What of these rumours? Where could they have originated? “The history of the Kohorarê is well written,” the strong-voiced but elderly Hôtzauvitê explained to her pupils, “written in salt and in the birth-blood of the Sky Mother on the Sacred Pinnacle of Heavensea.” A giggle caught her attention, and she spun to face the probable culprit, eyebrows drawn down sternly. “Laulani, I have asked you countless times to cease any activities other than listening. If you act out one more time, I will have to contact your family, who will be deeply shamed!”

The impish Kohorarê girl, looking up through long dark lashes at the teacher, put on her best contrite face. “I’m sorry, Vitê Gana’ryaki.” The aging Sorceress turned back to her teaching-icon with a barely-repressed sigh.

“The Sacred Pinnacle is—”

“Vitê,” Laulani called, and the Hôtzauvitê whirled around, “why aren’t we allowed to visit the Sacred Pinnacle?”

“Laulani, how many times must I tell you not to speak out of turn?” she demanded. The girl frowned slightly, looking defensive.

“It’s not out of turn,” she protested, “I raised my hand. But you didn’t see me.”

Gana’ryaki took a deep breath. “As I was about to explain,” she said with only a touch of acidity in her voice, “the Sacred Pinnacle is the most holy site in all Marihonua. For this reason, it is forbidden for any but the highest-ranking Hôtzauvitê, and the Emperor, to land on it.”

“Why?” another child asked, his green eyes opened wide in curiosity.

“The Sacred Pinnacle is where the Sky Mother gave birth to the Kohorarê,” she said evenly, folding her fingers before her. “It would shame and offend the Sky Mother if someone impure were to land on the island.”

“But why are we impure?” Laulani asked.

Gana’ryaki slammed shut the flaps of her teaching-icon. “Because you do not show proper respect to your elders, Laulani Kyôshin!” With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the students, saying, “This session is over. I expect you all here at the same time next week.” The children scattered, happy to be free of their duties for the nonce. Gana’ryaki sighed.

‘Someone MUST straighten out that child,’ she thought angrily. ‘Asking baseless questions like that, poking holes in our faith and our way of life, could lead to countless kinds of trouble if unchecked…’