Date: August 27, 2000 (Aether: December 31, 3906)
Place: Naglfar - Longboat - Ocean
Cast: Cyrene, Katya
Scene: Rusalka and Najada converse, mind-to-mind, and try to reach some understanding about their own differences in culture.

Naglfar - Longboat - Ocean:
      A dark dragon's head juts menacingly forth from the prow of this vessel, its carved eyes intent upon the waves as the ship slices through them. A tall mast pierces the heavens, and a vast, red-and-white striped sail depends from the beam at its apex. Sometimes the sail is unfurled, and it billows outward with each breath of wind to carry the ship closer to its destiny. Other times, the sail is still and lifeless, and that is when the men and women must man the oars, and cleave across the water through sweat and toil.
      The ship is home to some thirty men and women -- belowdecks are the bunks and cots, crammed in at close quarters along with provisions and supplies -- while above are the oars and sail and rigging and open sky. The ship rocks steadily with the motion of the waves -- a rhythm with which its passengers have become familiar, after so many weeks at sea.

Naglfar has left its home of snow and ice behind already two weeks ago, but the weather has not improved by much. Barely above freezing point, it has snowed all through the night, leaving the ship covered in a thick layer of fresh snow.

A few grumbling crew-members clear off the snow from the most important points of the ship, while other sailors are busy tackling with the ropes of the sails. To little avail -- barely a gust of wind moves the ship forward, which means that it will be another day of hard rowing for the men.

Around the ship stretches only the ocean unto the horizon. The only living beings in sight other than the crew-members are two of the three orca, as well as a few sea birds accompanying the mission.

Katya is sitting on the wet floor at one side of the ship, looking out to the sky. She seems idle, or perhaps lazy, but none of the sailors have asked her so far to help them. With a pensive, thoughtful gaze, she watches a sea eagle circling over the ship, sometimes diving down to catch a fish, and sometimes... it might just be the eagle is looking back at her, keeping her eye contact as it cuts through the icy air.

Several feet behind Katya, one of those bustling sailors pauses to peer over the side in curiosity before lowering a rough bit of rope ladder down to the water. A pair of solid thumps echo through the wood before the Rusalka, Cyrene, is heaved over the side by strong Aesir arms.

The sailor turns away without nodding to the woman, wiping his hands as if they were tainted.

Cyrene weaves unsteadily a moment, folding her wings tightly against her back as she looks out towards the sea she had just left. In the distant swells, a lone orca lobtails and disappears beneath the surface.

Cyrene turns away, letting pools of darkness skim the deck with open interest.

Katya turns her attention to the noise behind her back, looking over her shoulder to observe the arrival of the Rusalka. Her chilly blue eyes remain cool and emotionless, but it's her mind that announces the first sign of acknowledgment. She sends a casual greeting in form of a clear, cool wave to Cyrene, underlined only with mild curiosity for the strange-looking woman.

As she notices the orca in the distance, she asks, *Is it yours?* The way she describes the relationship in her thoughts implies she considers the whale a pet that is owned by Cyrene more than anything else.

Cyrene turns, meeting the frigid chill of ice water with the ebon of the deepest ocean chasms. No white rings her irises, 'tis only a roiling of black that meets Katya. The Rusalka's face shows little more emotion than the Najada's does, being both creatures of the mind.

She takes the number of steps needed to reach the railing where Katya stands, casting a glance after the departing orca. The greeting is met with hues of black and white and a snatch of inner song, a return greeting, and an answer. A denial comes to the thought of Zelimir being a pet. How could anything as large as a fifteen-year-old killer whale in his prime be a pet?

This wondering is followed by clarification. *We are Jhoi, pair-bonded. It is quite different.*

Katya folds her hands in her lap, still looking up silently to the winged woman. Impressions of sharks being used by voyak, or eagles as hunting creatures cross the minds, a faint description of how Katya has seen animals being used. However, the bond is clearly alien to her.

*Jhoi?* she inquires in an almost demanding fashion, obviously highly interested to find out more about the link that is shared between orca and Rusalka.

Cyrene accepts the images with a measure of curiosity, but there is clear disdain that a whale could ever be considered such. *There are different levels of intelligence in the ocean. Some think not beyond food and fear. Others, like the whales, know peace, joy, and are on a level with us. Being Jhoi means being the pair-bonded of a particular whale, acting as a messenger, scout, and guardian for all pods. Jhoi share a deeper understanding than most Rusalki do with their whales.*

Katya lets out a quiet snort at the declaration of being considered equal to a whale. However, her own thoughts and opinions on what Cyrene says remain more guarded than her physical reactions.

Pushing her interest and curiosity further, she asks, *Do they understand more than basic concepts? Do they have a measure of the abstract, does the mind stretch further than the 'me, here and now'? How well can you 'talk' to them?*

The way she describes the question, it's obvious that her idea of talking surpasses anything drylanders are capable of. Not the act of reducing sensations to primitive, ugly sounds, but to experience what another has experienced, to share their emotions, views and way of thinking as well as grasp their knowledge.

Cyrene measures her response well before she gives it, sensing the other woman's skepticism. *They understand much more than one would credit to a creature not of their own kind. We look upon the animals and see nothing but food and items to be made from them. But some rise above the others. The whale is sacred of Sedna, and has been gifted with extraordinary intelligence, but of a different nature. Their language is rich and complex, and even Jhoi speak it no better than a child does our own. Some concepts we have, like war, are alien to them. Others they have are alien to us at times. But we have forged bonds and communication despite the differences.*

Katya stretches her own mental touch out further, asking to let herself get a glimpse of what it is that makes the bond between animal and Rusalka so strong, and catch an impression of the communication that goes on between them.

Still, her opinions and judgement are held at bay for the time being. Something within the woman's explanation startles her. *They know no war?* she checks, hoping to find more information there. On how any species can survive without war. And what the use of a bond with a creature is that cannot fight or defend itself.

Cyrene accepts the touch of Katya, but there is an inner chill the Najada may not wish to explore, although the sense of Cyrene is much warmer than her sister's.

*It is difficult to explain. We share no telepathic bond. We sing to one another. But we are quite devoted to each other. We must be, to work as a team of two such different species.*

She hesitates again, then forges on. *It is not that they cannot fight if need be. Orcas can be some of the more dangerous and deadly of creatures in the northern sea, vicious even when their family is threatened. But they do not understand fighting for anything beyond survival. They have no concept of ownership or hatred, so fighting over such makes no sense to them.*

Katya remarks the hidden place Cyrene has in her mind and makes a mental note deep inside of herself, but does not press upon it now. That can be explored later.

Instead, she hooks up to the next obvious question, the one question that can always be added to any explanation. *Why? Why do you create such a bond to them, if they have so limited use in warfare?* Even not a voyak herself, both the way of her mate and her people have worn off on the Najada.

Cyrene regards Katya with the shadow of the deepest chasms of the ocean, her mental touch just as chill as Katya's eyes. *Because the Rusalki are not as warlike as the Aesir and Najada. We are too few, and living in harmony with the whales has taught most of us the kind of peace they cherish. We pair-bond with them to further our relations with our fellow pod-members, in the interest of communication and survival. They help us find food, among other things.*

Katya simply blends out the emotional connotations of Cyrene's touch, or the lack thereof, focusing instead on her explanations. She soaks up the bits and pieces, and while it's clear that she has still problems familiarizing herself with a lifestyle not made up of survival of the fittest, she can accept it as well as her way of the bond she shares.

*I understand,* she returns, a bit more lightly and friendly than the harsh demand of explanations before. With that, her mental touch drifts off once again, closing her mind, showing that she considers the discussion complete.

Cyrene watches Katya with open appraisal a moment, clearly considering fielding some questions of her own. But at that point, the wind begins to shift, at last, and the sailors give a ragged cheer.

The Rusalka, so used to the silence beneath the waves, is visibly startled, and her wings unfold, flaring in gossamer webs. Uncomfortable, she turns back to the ocean and spies the returning Zelimir breeching in the distance.

With a flicker of an Aesir-like smile, she spins a farewell to Katya and dives into the water smoothly, disappearing from sight.

FIN  

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