In its most beautiful moments the sea could fill with a million points of living light within the dark, but even that was only an echo of the celestial radiance the goddess brought to the shrine. Hadama floated within the cosmic currents, eyes drawn from watery nebulae to blazing stars brighter than any angler's lure but always returning to the one who was at the heart of glittering galaxy.
He nodded deeply, silently pleased and glowing with a contentment at the praise for his offering. I will, he said simply, an undercurrent of eagerness in his stoic mindvoice, for he was proud of what they had accomplished.
The manta led the way through the ocean and the canals, traveling swiftly to the stretch of water nearest the Court of Stars. A shaft had been dug in the bottom of the canal there; the discarded shells of giant clams had been formed into rings and pressed against the walls to stabilize them, the iridescent nacre facing inwards towards those who passed. They had been tied together with living seaweed that would soon flourish and reinforce the walls further as it took root.
Down he swam, two sinuous bodylengths to the compacted sandstone shelf that provided stability to the land above. Seagrasses had been planted there where the light filtered down to provide a home for the small fish and other animals already beginning to move in to this new biome. The tunnel curved beneath a final, angled ring of clam shells to pass horizontally beneath the Court. Here the ribs of a ghostwhale - the smallest of those killed three years ago in that ill-fated hunt - were planted into the sandstone floor to support the tunnel's rounded shape as they arched up one wall, across the ceiling, and down the other side. Deep water corals that grew without light had been carefully attached to the ribs with mussel glue, partially obscuring them. In time the coral would spread to make a living wall against the collapse of sand and soil from the walls and ceiling.
A little light filtered down from the far side of the tunnel. Here the walls of the vertical exit well had been burned to a thick, dark glass by dragonfire in a strong column that rose to the garden within the Court. Hadama ascended and shifted back to his mer form as he breached the surface. Night-blooming flowers in pots and two lanterns stood near the well, providing safety for night-walkers in the garden and a guiding light for mer coming up from below. Brick that matched the fountain had been laid in an apron around the well itself so saltwater wouldn't damage the plants when a mer pulled themselves far enough out to reach over the fountain's lip for a handful of healing water.
The garden had even been carefully repaired by eager hands so that the scars of the construction project were already healing.
Hadama looked to Safrin, saying nothing while she inspected the work but emerald eyes seeking her reaction to the finished project.
The starshine blossomed in gentle benediction, lighting both the shadowed wells and the eternal night of the tunnel itself, and Hadama was warmed by the blessing and the approval it represented.
An apology from a goddess was an unexpected and treasured thing, and he offered a small nod of his head in return as he slid back into the comfortable embrace of the starlit waters. I do not," he assured her. He didn't know what senses the gods had, but it was an assumption of the merman that they far exceeded those of mortal ken.
He reached out slowly towards the hand she offered then, emerald eyes widening in astonishment at the gift. It looked small in his large hand, delicate and lovely, but he could feel the resilient strength in its sunset form when he slipped it onto his finger. Eyes shining with gratitude rose to look on Safrin as he curled his hand over his chest. Thank you, he said quietly.
A gift... and something to think about, if Torchline's goddess was subtly encouraging drylanders to be welcome beneath the waves after so many generations of isolation.
~Fin~
