Dancing On Ice

The Lay Luna Waves

Kazimir swept out of the water onto the shore just after sunrise, snatching up his clothes from the rocks and throwing them on, ringing the water from his hair and body and tossing it back into the sea, glancing up at the palace on the cliff top as he rolled up his shirtsleeves.

He could just barely spy movement in the windows, people were up and about – well it was late enough in the morning that people should be up but he could just about see the glitter of finery.

It was early for the courtiers.

Maybe because today was the day of the Lay Luna Waves. Could humans predict the day of the first wave so accurately? The first day changed each year. The sea itself warned merpeople about the approaching date but what about humans?

Watching the palace for a moment longer, he then turned and walked back to the sea, crouching and dipping his hand in the surf.

"Could I watch from here?" he asked, "My mother said it's quite the sight."

The sea accented to his request, mentioned that he should, when it was time, stand at the edge of the shore to see the true nature before it started to withdraw, slowly creeping away from land, revealing hidden rocks and shells and giving warning to any sea life still in the area that it was time to leave.

Kazimir, in turn, walked back up the beach to take a seat on a snow-capped rock, leant against the cliff face and settled down to watch and wait.

~~~

"I can't remember the last time I was here to witness The War Tides," Jazz said as he walked into one of the huge tower rooms with floor-to-ceiling windows that over-looked the churning seas below.

"Ten years at least, surely," Dalton said beside him as they watched the iron grey waves and matching sky.

The clouds were rolling overhead, the distant rumble of thunder a warning to all who were foolish enough to still be outside that it was time to lock doors and windows.

"That long? It's so vivid I thought it was more recent."

"You're hardly a frequent visitor."

"Touché."

"This will be the first time Cynthia has seen them," Dalton added, glancing over his shoulder to where Princess Cynthia was sat by another window with Aeralie, both of them observing the violent waves. "You're sure this won't scare her?"

Jazz snorted. "My wife doesn't scare easily," he assured. "The whole reason we delayed our trip inland to Cordan Court was because I wanted her to see at least one of the waves."

"So when will you leave? Tonight?"

"I suppose. But it will only be for a week." Jazz grimaced and lowered his voice so the courtiers around them – who were perfectly content to be chattering amongst themselves – couldn't hear. "If I'm honest, I don't really want to be here when your father returns."

"Fair enough," Dalton said with a shrug, "I wouldn't be here either if I had the choice."

"Sire, it's on the horizon!" someone cried and everyone in the room rushed towards the widows, squishing themselves against the glass to get the first look.

Dalton and Jazz walked towards Aeralie and Cynthia's window and looked over their heads.

Despite seeing it every year for two decades, the sight that greeted him stuttered Dalton's heart for a second.

On the horizon was a wall.

From such a distance, it didn't look high and yet to be visible from such a distance gave an idea to the sheer size of rolling water that was racing towards them, blown by wind and current and tide.