Deleted Scene: Past life memory (Inyene)

1200 words, 5 minute read.

Fish Moon 15, 3889
The [NAME] Sea
(89 years ago, in another life)

The Slumgum was a strange name for a boat. I was told by one of the younger naturalists aboard that slumgum was the word for waste product filtered out of beeswax before it was used in candles or cosmetics or whatnot, but that didn’t make things much clearer. Why would you name a ship after something so gross? The young naturalist said it was a joke.

Well, then the person who had chartered the vessel had a strange sense of humor. I rarely saw the person in question, a wealthy naturalist who specialized in insects and was on some sort of collecting mission for the Electorate of Gildea. When we were at sea, xe stayed in hir cabin, even taking hir meals privately rather than join the rest of us in the mess.

It was nothing to complain about. I was a sea witch for hire, and I went where the wind and water took me. Better to have a hands-off employer than one who was constantly breathing down my neck. [Inyene] gave orders to hir assistant, the assistant told the captain, and the captain told me, along with the rest of the crew.

All I had to do was sit in the prow of the boat and work my magic. Braids and knots to catch the wind, then release it in the right direction. Careful watch of the moon and stars, to foresee the tides and currents that would bear us quickly to where we wanted to go. Charms made from earth and rock to keep the crew grounded and return them safely to land, without fear of storms.

Whenever we pulled into dock, often on some lonely island with few or even no inhabitants, the naturalists would go off wandering, collecting, observing, for weeks at a time. I split my time between relaxation and helping the crew secure more food and water. The islands were usually tropical, full of fruit and strange creatures no one aboard had ever eaten before, but were more than willing to try. It was a good life.

Then one night, the lead naturalist and I crossed paths unexpectedly.

It was late. The moon was full, and I was in the prow, laying on my back so I could watch its ascent across the highest point of the sky. The sea was calm, and we were docked in a deep lagoon with protection on all sides. All around us, the dark waters sparkled under the stars as they gently shifted the boat to and fro. A soft, warm wind blew across the deck.

Then I heard someone stumbling out of the cabin, muttering under their breath in distress. I ignored it, not wanting my peace to be disturbed and hoping the intruder would solve whatever their problem was on their own.

But no, [Inyene] wobbled hir way across the deck until hir boots were right behind my head. I looked up at hir dark face, which was lined with age and what I thought was worried amusement. Ze had salt and pepper hair in a long catch of braids, into which many beads, charms, and feathers had been woven. They clicked and clacked as e leaned over.

“Good evening,” ze said in Casporan, the only language we shared, though neither of us were from that country. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but I have something you might want to see. You’re the sea witch, [June], correct?”

“That’s me,” I sighed, and sat up. “What is it?”

As soon as I turned around, I saw them. From the cabin, [Inyene] had brought up a crate missing its lid on top, and crawling out from within were a flurry of enormous winged creatures, each one easily the size of my palm.

I scurried over. “Do you need help containing them?”

“No, no,” [Inyene] said. “It’s better that they go, I think, before we are out at sea again.”

At closer range, I could see that they were moths. Their delicate wings shone in the moonlight, flashing silver and bronze as they headed back toward the island, where I assume [Inyene] had originally captured them.

They were beautiful.

We stood, awed, watching the moths fly beneath the full moon, skimming the waves, clustering on the rigging, even landing on our outstretched hands, where we could get a closer look at their fuzzy bodies and impressive antennae.

[Inyene] spoke softly, telling me what ze knew about these creatures, how they had been born a few days after we first arrived to this island and ze’d brought back a branch of a new type of mulberry tree without realizing there were tiny eggs on the leaves. Ze’d been taking care of them ever since. Some of the terminology was beyond me, but as someone who worked at sea, I knew how professional language could be.

When I realized that in calling them ‘silk moths,’ [Inyene] truly meant they were producers of actual silk, I finally looked down into the crate. There, among the stripped mulberry branches, were dozens of fuzzy white cocoons. I picked one up and pulled at the fibers with my fingers. They were a bit stiff, but with very little twisting, they easily became strong, plyable thread.

“This is real silk?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s actually why I thought you would like to see,” [Inyene] said. “I know that you use a lot of cord and such things in your spells. I thought that you might like some of the cocoons to spin with? For the spells or for yourself, whichever—I get reports every day from the captain, and he says that it’s thanks to your magic that we’ve had such a smooth journey so far.”

I made a decent living, but I could never afford silk, not for spells and certainly not for personal use. I was at sea so often that I didn’t maintain a house, and lived frugally, my basic needs typically met by whoever was in charge of the ship I currently lived on. Silk was a luxury I never even dreamed of.

“Are you certain?” I demanded.

[Inyene] gave me a lopsided grin. “I only need a few as samples. I admit that I am rather spoiled by my family’s wealth, and that of the Electorate which I’m given to expand the country’s scientific knowledge,” ze said. “I have no need to sell them for money, and I am not a spinner myself.”

It was true that hir clothes were fine, well tailored and richly embroidered with gold and silver thread. I was accustomed to the wealthy being the stingiest social class of all, but perhaps this hermit scientist was the exception.

More than the silk, though, the image of the moths freed under the moonlight felt like a memory that would stay with me forever. One I would tell to my children, if I ever settled down and had them.

“I’ll make sure some of it goes into a spell that gets us home safe,” I said. “And if you ever need a sea witch for a voyage, I’ll be happy to accompany you again.”