People of the Sea

The People of the Sea

“What did you say your name was?” Farges Nathagale asked.
“Nim, sir. Just Nim.” The girl spoke with a slight accent that told him she was from some were down south, perhaps the Sun Isles. As he looked down at her his misgivings increased. The girl didn’t look a day over thirteen. She stared at her feet, letting her long black hair cover her face. Despite the way she seemed to stare fixedly at the the ground, Farges could see a pair of slightly slanted cole black eyes that marked her as one of the Githa Dori, the People of the Sea, studying him intently. That told him his guess had been right on the mark, the Sea People’s native waters flowed around the Sun Isles, it also explained her name. The Githa Dori never told their full name to anyone but their closest friends and family, they certainly would never tell it to any human. But it also served to increased his misgivings even further, what was one of the Sea People doing here, so far north of the Sun Isles. And a young one at that. He squinted down the dusty side street that she had cornered him in. She wanted something, that was for certain, he felt equally certain that it would not be something he would feel obliged to do, the Githa Dori did not simply walk up to humans in the street to ask small favors. She watched him intently as she heedlessly adusted her narrow, dark blue-grey skirts. A touch of embroidary ran up her chest and down the long tight fiting sleves. It was a plan yet well made garment.
“You’re one of them Sea People,” he said finally. The girl nodded and he continued, “what are you doing here?” The girl called Nim blushed ever so slightly and looked up at Farges. She had a deep tan and looked human in every respect, but Farges recalled the dark, and, many would say, true stories he had heard of what the Githa Dori became when they entered the Sea. He was not sure he believed those stories, but he watched her cautiously all the same. She looked at him with those black eyes that no human could ever posses with such a penetrating stare Farges almost took a step back before he got a hold of himself. She’s just a little girl, he thought angrily.
“Ma sent me,” the faintest smile touched her lips as she studied Farges. She took in his shaggy brown hair, blue eyes and well muscled body from years of working as a sailor. She guessed his age to be around fifty, from the wisps of gray in his hair. A long scar ran down one cheek, pulling his face into a permanent frown. He made a small gesture for her to continue her story. “Ma sent me to find a human to help us with our-” here she paused, “our problem.” She hesitated on the last word as if not sure it was the right one. Farges scratched his head.
“What is your ‘problem’?” He asked. Nim did not answer at once. She stared at the dark sky that had begun to rumble ominously. Then she cleared her throat and began.
“Fifteen years ago Ma and Pop called on the Magicmen to bless my birth, but the Magicmen didn’t come. They had abandoned us. I was born with the Gift the first Githa Dori in nearly three hundred years. I can speak with the animals of the Sea among other things. But that has been the best thing that has happened to us since the Magicmen left us. Our crops fail, children die, and now the Githa Dori fall ill and there is nothing the Healers can do to help them. We suspect there is something in the water. We’ve tried to contact the Magicmen many times but they haven’t responded. Ma sent me to find a human who might help.” She finished rather lamely and looked up at Farges, who stood dumfounded.
“And you want me to do what?”
“Well,” Nim hesitated, “I suppose we thought a human could try to contact the Magicmen, maybe they would listen to you better than us.” She stopped and seemed to add something so softly Farges wasn’t certain he had heard anything. Deciding to ignore it, he thought for a moment.
“Why don’t you move some where else?” Nim laughed mirthlessly.
“Do you know nothing of the Githa Dori? Our pride is matched only by our stubbornness,” her voice was now full of bitterness, “some have already left but most would rather die than leave our native waters. If we live on land for to long we wither and die, I can stay here longer because I am a Carrier, but even I can’t out run it forever. All ready my time is drawing near.” she regarded him helplessly. And hopefully, Farges observed. He studied her more closely and noticed for the first time she looked pale under her tan.
“I must return to the sea after the storm.” He heard her mutter softly. She began to fiddle absentmindedly with her hair, disregarding Farges completely. Still apparently ignoring Farges she began to speak in a carefully controlled voice.
“Perhaps you could-” but Farges cut across her.
“How old are you?” He asked. Nim gave a start and looked at Farges as though she had just realized he was there.
“Fifteen,” she replied. He raised his eyebrows doubtfully and Nim glared at him, yanking her hand away from her hair and drawing herself up to her full height. Farges opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it as Nim eyes narrowed dangerously. Instead he cleared his throat loudly which made Nim smile remotely.
Lightning flashed over head followed almost by an earsplitting crash of thunder. Farges’s worried gaze went to the harbor to see his small ship, the Waterdragon, rocking on the rising waves. As Nim looked up at the cloudy sky, Farges saw something that looked like eagerness reflecting in her black eyes. He hesitated, it really wasn’t worth it, he knew, but there was something about this stubbornly proud girl that compelled him to help. It would be near impossible to persuade the Githa Dori to leave their home. From what he had herd of the Sea People, they would no more listen to a human than they would a sheep. He was also farely certian that that was not all Nim wanted from him, she wasn’t telling him every thing, that was indisputable as well. Himself, he had never had much to do with the Githa Dori, they kept to themselves. In all his years of sailing, Nim was only the third one he had ever met, and none of them had been as forth coming, they were not well respected if they ever came on land, Farges thought it unlikely Nim would find anyone else willing to help. He looked at her, trying to make his gaze as cold as he could, but try as he might she shot it straight back at him. He sighed to himself, a proud people.
“You want me to sail half way around the world to help your dying people and try to convince them they need to relocate?” He asked finally, wanting to be sure he had all the facts. She nodded absently, still watching the sky.
“I can’t guarantee anything,” he continued, “but I’ll give it my best shot.” Nim’s eyes were on him in an instant.
“You will?” she breathed, as if she wasn’t absolutely certain of what she had heard. A slight smile brightened his features considerably, although it seemed to be a great effort to pull his face out of its permanent frown.
“I’ll try,” he replied, “I obviously can’t sail today, but I will as soon as the weather clears.”
At that very moment the rain began to fall. It fell in a rushing torrent that drenched them both within seconds. Farges ran to the room were he was staying to get out of the downpour, but Nim stayed, her face turned to the heavens, arms spread, laughing as the rain fell on her bare face wetting her cloths and hair so they clung to her. Farges watched her from his window and shook his head, hoping he had done the right thing.
“I will try,” he murmured quietly.