Having only seen Melita dance atop the surface of the water with a magic as alien to the people of the sea as their own items likely were to the Fae of the air, Hadama had no notion of the strength of her swimming or the prowess of her stroke. Mostly, though, he didn't want stray currents or passing schools of fish to break between them and pull his human friend beyond the ten foot sphere of safety that Safrin had inscribed into the ring's creation.
Safety first. And second, under the mermanta's watch.
He glanced back to catch her first sight of the City and his stoic expression lightened with pleasure and pride at her awe and delight. It was his honor to lead her down the main current where it flowed slowly between the buildings that paid far less heed to gravity than their counterparts on land. A front door was as apt to be twenty feet up a structure as at its base, and in no few places the difference between a door and a window had more to do with courtesy than architecture.
Serene and poised, Dama led his friend through the wonders of the Undersea and ignored the murmurings of those they passed. A few - children, but some adults, too - offered Melita welcoming smiles and shy waves. He turned off the main path finally; close enough to see the fluting spires and delicate coral geometry of the palace without encroaching close enough to draw the ire of more guards. Their path wound away from the public buildings and into the residential area; homes of sand - not castles, but comfortable dwellings - and obsidian and granite and shell. Up was a common direction to build and spiraling structures of three or four stories were common even among the homes of the proletariat.
It was at one particular building that the mermanta paused; a loose fence of driftwood slats encased a garden of coral and flowering sea plants and behind that stood a pelagic construction like the rest they had passed, though with a few brighter elements at windows and eaves. The fence had no gate; not when one could simply swim over it, as Hadama did, passing into the garden and pausing next to one of the large staghorn corals to examine a fallen branch. Scooping it up and tucking it into one of his pouches for later consideration, he led the way to a rounded portal on the second story of the house and swam inside into a bright chamber that served as the family living and gathering place. Furniture was sparse and consisted of netted hammocks that served as much for anchoring oneself in place as support, with small tables of heavier stone scattered between them with coiled tethers at each leg for keeping items from floating away.
Hadama tilted his head at Melita and gestured towards one with a raised brow. Would she like to come in and rest for a little bit?
Safety first. And second, under the mermanta's watch.
He glanced back to catch her first sight of the City and his stoic expression lightened with pleasure and pride at her awe and delight. It was his honor to lead her down the main current where it flowed slowly between the buildings that paid far less heed to gravity than their counterparts on land. A front door was as apt to be twenty feet up a structure as at its base, and in no few places the difference between a door and a window had more to do with courtesy than architecture.
Serene and poised, Dama led his friend through the wonders of the Undersea and ignored the murmurings of those they passed. A few - children, but some adults, too - offered Melita welcoming smiles and shy waves. He turned off the main path finally; close enough to see the fluting spires and delicate coral geometry of the palace without encroaching close enough to draw the ire of more guards. Their path wound away from the public buildings and into the residential area; homes of sand - not castles, but comfortable dwellings - and obsidian and granite and shell. Up was a common direction to build and spiraling structures of three or four stories were common even among the homes of the proletariat.
It was at one particular building that the mermanta paused; a loose fence of driftwood slats encased a garden of coral and flowering sea plants and behind that stood a pelagic construction like the rest they had passed, though with a few brighter elements at windows and eaves. The fence had no gate; not when one could simply swim over it, as Hadama did, passing into the garden and pausing next to one of the large staghorn corals to examine a fallen branch. Scooping it up and tucking it into one of his pouches for later consideration, he led the way to a rounded portal on the second story of the house and swam inside into a bright chamber that served as the family living and gathering place. Furniture was sparse and consisted of netted hammocks that served as much for anchoring oneself in place as support, with small tables of heavier stone scattered between them with coiled tethers at each leg for keeping items from floating away.
Hadama tilted his head at Melita and gestured towards one with a raised brow. Would she like to come in and rest for a little bit?
