A boy darted across the open waste, covering the distance between ocean and hive city as fast as he dared without tripping.
He had a bundle in his arms.
Behind him, slower, came his mother, supported on one side by her lover and the other by her sister, making her slow way from the ship.
The ship itself was a miracle, at first glance made of living plants. It wasn’t, of course, but the coaxing of the agricultural Verdant had paid off in mosses, lichens, and vines running wild over every part of the ship that didn't touch water, and what they didn't touch was painted brilliant green to match them.
The people, too, wore green. The three adults all had vines woven into their hair, and wore patchworked green robes that looked freshly washed. The boy wore simple green pants.
The bundle in his arms was wrapped in green silk brocade that had once been some fine lady’s gown.
They made it to the city. Or rather, what remained of the city. It had been abandoned long ago, so long ago that no one the Magpies had spoken to could remember its name. That meant they called it whatever they wished.
They didn’t know what had driven whoever had lived here to abandon it. Many of the structures still stood, although it had no power, no water, and no life. Except for the Family Verdant.
In the open space made by two intersecting throughways, the entire population of the smallest Verdant ship gathered, solemn and quiet. The boy placed his bundle in the center, alongside two larger ones- one wrapped in fine green cotton and the other in green silk embroidered to look like huge layered leaves. Having completed his job, the boy went to cling to his mother as she joined the great circle of green figures.
…
“Magpies of the Family Verdant.” The man who spoke did not step from his place in the circle, but reached out to take the hands of those on either side of him. The rest of the circle followed suit, until the circle was complete. He spoke softly, but the empty city heard his words. In the quiet, they could not be missed.
“Magpies of my Family. Magpies of the now, and the then, and the when.” He paused as his voice shook, took a deep breath and continued. “We come from the sea to say goodbye. We come from the sea to make our final promises to those who leave us. We come from the sea to mourn.”
A woman at a different part of the circle continued the words when he stopped, with practiced ease, her voice weary and bitter. “The life of a Magpie is unfair. The life of a Magpie is cruel. The life of a Magpie is short.” She stared up at the sky. “And yet we do not give up.”
A teenager cut in, tear tracks obvious in the green designs painted onto her face. “And yet we do not give up.” She shook as she continued. “We do not give up our ships. We do not give up our names. We do not give up our dead.”
The mother, next, clutching her son’s hand. “We do not give them up in our hearts. We do not give them up to our enemies-”
There was a pause. A held breath. Her eyes were closed, hands shaking, but just when the Magpies began to look around for someone else to complete her part, she found her strength.
Her son said the words with her. “We do not give them up to the sea.”
And then back to the man who had begun this. “We will not allow the sea they have struggled against their entire lives to take them in death. We will not allow them to give up, even in death.” He stepped into the circle, the people on either side of him closing the circle behind him. He walked slowly to the first of the bundles on the ground, pulling back the cloth to reveal an old woman’s face. “Grandmother Teia.” He revealed the next corpse, a young man with wild green-dyed hair. “Cousin Marit.” And finally to the small bundle, within which was a child no older than 3. “...little Quess.” He stood straight. This time the entire circle joined him in his words.
“We leave you here, our beloved dead, that you will not be disturbed by wave or human hand. We swear to you that we will not give up. We will not bow to the sea, nor will we forget you, as long as we live. We swear to you that we will live. As you said goodbye to many…”
The little boy stood up tall. He had been given a job. He would say his words right, and say goodbye to the little sister he could have had. To his grandmother, and his cousin. He was frightened, in this abandoned place, but he had to do it. And he had to do it by himself.
“Now we say goodbye to you.”
He had a bundle in his arms.
Behind him, slower, came his mother, supported on one side by her lover and the other by her sister, making her slow way from the ship.
The ship itself was a miracle, at first glance made of living plants. It wasn’t, of course, but the coaxing of the agricultural Verdant had paid off in mosses, lichens, and vines running wild over every part of the ship that didn't touch water, and what they didn't touch was painted brilliant green to match them.
The people, too, wore green. The three adults all had vines woven into their hair, and wore patchworked green robes that looked freshly washed. The boy wore simple green pants.
The bundle in his arms was wrapped in green silk brocade that had once been some fine lady’s gown.
They made it to the city. Or rather, what remained of the city. It had been abandoned long ago, so long ago that no one the Magpies had spoken to could remember its name. That meant they called it whatever they wished.
They didn’t know what had driven whoever had lived here to abandon it. Many of the structures still stood, although it had no power, no water, and no life. Except for the Family Verdant.
In the open space made by two intersecting throughways, the entire population of the smallest Verdant ship gathered, solemn and quiet. The boy placed his bundle in the center, alongside two larger ones- one wrapped in fine green cotton and the other in green silk embroidered to look like huge layered leaves. Having completed his job, the boy went to cling to his mother as she joined the great circle of green figures.
…
“Magpies of the Family Verdant.” The man who spoke did not step from his place in the circle, but reached out to take the hands of those on either side of him. The rest of the circle followed suit, until the circle was complete. He spoke softly, but the empty city heard his words. In the quiet, they could not be missed.
“Magpies of my Family. Magpies of the now, and the then, and the when.” He paused as his voice shook, took a deep breath and continued. “We come from the sea to say goodbye. We come from the sea to make our final promises to those who leave us. We come from the sea to mourn.”
A woman at a different part of the circle continued the words when he stopped, with practiced ease, her voice weary and bitter. “The life of a Magpie is unfair. The life of a Magpie is cruel. The life of a Magpie is short.” She stared up at the sky. “And yet we do not give up.”
A teenager cut in, tear tracks obvious in the green designs painted onto her face. “And yet we do not give up.” She shook as she continued. “We do not give up our ships. We do not give up our names. We do not give up our dead.”
The mother, next, clutching her son’s hand. “We do not give them up in our hearts. We do not give them up to our enemies-”
There was a pause. A held breath. Her eyes were closed, hands shaking, but just when the Magpies began to look around for someone else to complete her part, she found her strength.
Her son said the words with her. “We do not give them up to the sea.”
And then back to the man who had begun this. “We will not allow the sea they have struggled against their entire lives to take them in death. We will not allow them to give up, even in death.” He stepped into the circle, the people on either side of him closing the circle behind him. He walked slowly to the first of the bundles on the ground, pulling back the cloth to reveal an old woman’s face. “Grandmother Teia.” He revealed the next corpse, a young man with wild green-dyed hair. “Cousin Marit.” And finally to the small bundle, within which was a child no older than 3. “...little Quess.” He stood straight. This time the entire circle joined him in his words.
“We leave you here, our beloved dead, that you will not be disturbed by wave or human hand. We swear to you that we will not give up. We will not bow to the sea, nor will we forget you, as long as we live. We swear to you that we will live. As you said goodbye to many…”
The little boy stood up tall. He had been given a job. He would say his words right, and say goodbye to the little sister he could have had. To his grandmother, and his cousin. He was frightened, in this abandoned place, but he had to do it. And he had to do it by himself.
“Now we say goodbye to you.”