Moonshine & Shadows

Basics:

Skeleton: Moonstone Character name: Maya Chan Age & Birthdate:  150, July 20 1872 Gender & Pronouns: cisfemale – she/her Birthplace:  Indian Ocean (Bay of Bengal) Length of time in port vale: One month, since the turning of the year Occupation: Writer

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The thought process she explained fit perfectly with what Amara was thinking about. She was sure that the humans had their fairytales and their lore about a place like this. The kids she befriended didn’t seem to say much about it though, maybe they just didn’t care. “I like the sound of that. Have you gotten any answers yet? It seems like it would take a lot of imagining to figure it all out though.” She remarked as she looked at their surroundings. There wasn’t much left to give anyone a definitive answer about anything.

Amara raised her eyebrows at her defense, not exactly knowing what the difference was. She assumed it counted as stealing as long as it didn’t belong to you in the first place, but maybe that wasn’t actually the case. “I don’t know, what makes you say that? That sounds like an excuse to not get into trouble.” She had a mischevious smile on her face, only teasing the woman since, really, Amara didn’t have any room to talk. But maybe if her answer was good enough, she could use the same line of reasoning if she ever got caught taking something herself. “What are you thinking about making? Is that something you do often? Find bits and pieces of stuff around town and try to make it into something pretty?” As well intentioned as the activity sounded, to Amara, it sounded like a lot of work. Why did so many things take so much effort to accomplish? Even when they were meant to be calming.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Amara was really glad that the thrift store was where she was recognized from. “Oh! Then maybe I have seen you around before and I just didn’t realize!” Her tone had perked up a bit now that she knew she wasn’t under suspicion. “It’s such a great place, isn’t it. I’m so glad it exists but I really can’t believe some of the things people donate. I mean I wish I could take so many of them home with me but there just wouldn’t be enough space for it all.” Amara looked over her outfit as she showed it off, not really knowing what bohemian meant but nodding along as though she agreed. “Yeah, I totally see that. Well, if you’re gonna be around the store often I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Amara, I’m kinda at the store like…all the time so I’ll remember to keep an eye out for you.”

~

“Imagination is what I do,” Maya chuckled. “I’m a writer, so I tend to use my imagination often as I try to figure out stories and characters and plots . . . not to mention how to blend them into a unified whole that makes sense to people who cannot see inside my head.” She glanced around the ruins, her thoughts beginning to spin and whirl with ideas. “If I chose this place as a setting, I think I would start with it in ruins, with the ghosts of those who once lived here.  Maybe then doing flashbacks to their lives and how they came to be trapped within the stones.”

Maya shook her head, amused by the younger woman. “With bits of glass and seaglass? I’ll see about creating something I can hang in a window so the sunlight adds extra color to my home or front porch. If I find coins or bits of metal, sometimes I make a windchime.  If they’re pretty enough, possibly some jewelry.” She gave a soft laugh. “Though that’s much less often. Still either way, it gives me something to do while I’m mentally working out issues with my stories.” Her smile deepened as she spotted a small, stripped stone.  Picking it up, she showed it to her. “Something like this would go into a memory jar, or a holding box until I have a memory it fits.”

“I enjoy the thrift store,” she nodded. “It’s much more to my taste than the huge chain stores.” She tucked away the stone and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Amara.  I’m Maya – and I’ve no doubt you’ll see me . . . especially now that we’ve met.”

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“Well, I guess we’re both still getting to know this place.” She hummed, offering the other woman a smile. “I’m Karina, by the way. I got here in the fall.” So the sunny days since her arrival had been limited, but that was just the nature of the seasons, and she wasn’t too upset about it. 

“You’re totally right.” The redhead almost beamed when the brunette mentioned people often overlooked the special things in the places they lived. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. So I’m trying to write a few stories about the less colorful but totally just as interesting places in Port Vale. Maybe only the tourists will choose to come and check them out, but hopefully some locals will as well.” 

~

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Karina,” she smiled. “I’m Maya Chan.” She didn’t know if the journalist would recognize her; her book might have been popular, but it didn’t mean automatic recognition.  

"I think it might be interesting to learn more of the island than just the myths and stories of the mermaid legend,” she chuckled. Hopefully some of the stories would be just that - a way to highlight other parts of the island. “The Castle’s a good place to start - it’s not really something that cries ‘mermaid’.”

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“Okay, you officially win for having the coolest way to describe Port Vale,” Renzie enthused.  “Balanced between land and sea.  Maya, you have no idea…” he exhaled, thinking of course that Maya was a human and unaware of sea people’s actual existence. But he added, so she wouldn’t feel like he was outsider-ing her,  “We’re like.  Really passionate over our tall tales about the ocean.  Sailing, fishing, myths, all of it. I’m so glad you love it.”

Maya had already won Renzie over, so he was ready to dismiss any thoughts of Maya being pretentious when it came to her book.  Her answer was so honest and sincere; plus, Renzie felt he could easily empathize, as he thought about the Mermaid Inn and Starbeach Cafe.  “I - I get what you’re saying.  You know, about three years ago, a rep from a huge nationwide hotel chain visited Port Vale and stayed at Mermaid?  A few times, in fact.  And then she met with me, and made me this…incredible offer.  To buy out the Inn and convert it into one of their hotels.  Oh, she had all these promises about preserving history and integrity and blah blah blah.”  

Renzie grinned at Maya.  “I didn’t believe her pitch for a second.  The offer would’ve made me and my folks set for life, even with medical expenses, but.  I…I couldn’t part with it.  The Inn’s a part of my family, y’know?  It’s part of who I am, like a great grandparent Anand. I love me a profit, but I’m not selling my grandmother!”

Just for the sake of argument, Renzie lightly retorted,  “Well if this goes to a landfill it’s gonna end up in the ocean anyway.  People are the worst.”  And recently Renzie had been doing way more research about pollution in the oceans…and had to stop reading.  So he wouldn’t have to go back on depression/anxiety meds again.

“Y’know what, Maya? I’ll keep this piece of beer bottle, and add it to my ammi’s jar up in the attic.  A memory of today, and meeting you.”

~

Maya laughed, a blush darkening her cheeks. She still didn’t know how to handle compliments well.  After travelling so much and spending such a long time on her own, interacting with people – even her own people – often seemed like a minefield. “I’m glad you liked it,” she shrugged. “Sometimes I think it takes an outsider to remind us why we love the familiar. And the ocean . . .” She waved her free hand towards the sound of the waves. “Such a powerful entity of its own, isn’t it?  There’s power in the sound of it.  Do you know how many city dwellers use the sound of waves in order to relax or meditate? I’m not surprised at the passion you hold for it.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I admit, I’d prefer to avoid a major storm, but I love listening to the sound of the waves in the midst of a thunderstorm. Something about all that power and passion in the air and water and even in the land . . .” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

Her eyes widened and she reached out to place a hand on his arm. “I’m glad you didn’t sell,” she replied, her conviction firm despite the soft tone of her voice. “Your inn and café have such a wonderful family feel, with all the pride and love of generations there. I . . . I can’t even imagine what some big chain would have done with it.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have blamed you for wanting to make sure your family was set, but I think it would have robbed the island of some of its magic.”

“But they’re getting better,” Maya assured him. “More people are understanding the need for recycling and reusing.” She tightened her hand for a moment before releasing him. “Though maybe we could find the right tool, one that would let us smooth down the sharp edges so it would be safer to use or keep.”

Again, the heat flooded her cheeks and she ducked her head. “I . . . thank you,” she murmured. “That’s . . . that’s sweet of you.”

-

Gemma nodded, rolling her eyes to indicate that she fully understood the irony of the situation. “It is… trying, working there. But given how obviously fake its contents are, its also the last place one would expect an Assyrian to tolerate.” In other words, it was a good cover. Or at the very least a point in favor of her being human, if there were any humans who weren’t sure. She smiled though, at the seemingly genuine congratulations Maya offered. There weren’t many mermaids who would be genuinely happy about a siren being made captain, at least not as far as she was aware.

“Both?” she asked curiously. “Are there particular concerns about land that have arisen recently?” She wondered if there might be any unexplained events on land to mirror what was happening in Assyria. It was entirely possible that Maya was simply referring to the various climate disasters that humans seemed bent on foisting upon themselves though. “Yes, among other things. The darkness, the illness, selkies… and then anything to help me gain an understanding of land and its people. Being able to quickly look into things has been invaluable in maintaining my cover as a human, though it is a nuisance to need to worry about such things when there are so many other pressing matters. Even if it is nice to have at least one area of study that turns up actual results. For all the time I have spent trying to uncover more information about the darkness and everything else going on, I still know frustratingly little. I don’t suppose you have learned anything on your travels that you would be able to share?”

~

“True,” Maya chuckled. “If they know the difference between mermaid and siren – or if even if they didn’t!  I can’t go in there very often. I either get exasperated with the errors or I’m biting back laughter at some of the . . . crazier hypotheses.”  People could have such imagination sometimes. “Though I’d rather them be farfetched and fantastical than having to worry about which humans might figure out the truth of our peoples.”

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Gaya looked around, only really now realizing that she hasn’t seen the woman around the banquette hall yet. “That’s actually a good point. Where is she? She wanted such a big splash and now she isn’t even around to see it all come to fruition?” If she was going to have to listen to her complain about people not showing up the next couple of days…

The thought was pushed to the side, though, when Maya mentioned a difficult date and Stella. So the two of them were paired together. Gaya actually thought that probably wasn’t the worst thing, but… she frowned for a moment. “What do you mean she thought it was more important than it was? Did she expect to get swept off of her feet?” She paused for a moment. “I did see her getting ready and being all excited, but I didn’t think she would…”

~

"Maybe she’s waiting to make an entrance?” Maya offered. It did seem to be something Victoria would do. Not that Maya knew the woman, but she always seemed to be up to something or putting on a show. “Or she got sidetracked by something?”

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“What made you leave the other small towns?” Renzie queried curiously, then grinned.  Overly self-aware as he added:  “He asked, hoping to hear all the failings of other small towns, so he can boast about how Port Vale’s not like other small towns.  We’re better.”

Renzie shook his head, shrugging as well.  “I don’t know - that’s my little cousin’s expertise.  She’s a big buff when it comes to anything mermaid, like sea people and creatures and world history and all of that.  I just know Port Vale stuff - the tourists,” Renzie said, by way of explanation.  Because usually people asked if Renzie also believed all the tall tales he spun about Port Vale.  

And usually it was so easy to say ‘no, it’s just to entertain the tourists’.  Now though…Renzie did believe, but he couldn’t tell anyone he believed.  So instead, Renzie launched into a story.  “The Castle of the Isle is steeped in conflicting stories.  Some people say it was built here brick by brick by an ancient mermaid, cursed to live on land, and she longed to recreate some forlorn memory of love and regret from her own past.  Other’s say it was imported here by some rich eccentric in the late 1800s who was obsessed with castles, but a huge storm in the early 1900s destroyed it and the eccentric moved back home.”

As a mild counterpoint - really just for the sake of talking than believing, Renzie nodded about Hollywood and then said,  “But you’d make money off it too.  Like a set-for-life situation.  Sacrifice one book to the Hollywood demons, then life comfortably enough to write whatever you want without book agents breathing down your neck?”  He smiled.  “Is that how it works?”

It was Renzie’s turn to flush, warm and pink under his brown skin when Maya beamed at him, and didn’t just take his compliment but received it with such joy that it made Renzie’s nose and eyes prickle.  It was a dream-reaction, and made Renzie think of his mother more.  And it was also just gratifying that he didn’t stick his foot in his mouth and offend Maya either.

But he was glad for the silly distraction of trash-glass.  When Maya pulled out the handy trashbag, Renzie clucked his tongue.  “Oh come on, are you serious?  You’re a walking pro - only the pro-ramblers carry their own garbage bags.”

He held up the shard of beer bottle glass.  “We could throw this away.  Or we could fling it off the cliff into the ocean.  Maybe one say it’ll come back as seaglass.”

~

“None of them had the feel of Port Vale,” Maya assured him. “I love the ocean, and I prefer somewhere that feels . . . balanced between the land and the sea.  It’s not as easy to find as you might think.  So many places pull away from the ocean or try to overpower it.”

She nodded as he spoke about his cousin.  Someone to keep an eye on?  Or just tell Gaya about?  Either way, she would need to determine what to pass on.  How had it gotten to this?  Where they had to worry about who might know what?  Did they not have enough trouble with the darkness endangering the sea peoples in their own homes?

“I could make money, true,” she nodded. “But . . .” Maya blew out a breath. “This is going to sound self-important and pretentious, and I really don’t want to sound like that, but I’m not sure how else to put it?  Writing the book almost felt like . . . pouring out part of my soul on to the page.  Publishing it and putting it out there for sale gave me so much anxiety, like sending a child into the world.  I worried and fussed and lost sleep over how people would take it, treat it.  Would they see what I wanted to say? Would they appreciate the passion and love I had for the characters?”  She ducked her head with a rueful smile. “I can’t imagine trusting my work and my characters to someone or going through all that fear all over again.”

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When she returned. Not if. Stella didn’t especially want to go back when it felt like she wasn’t doing anything of use. It wasn’t something that she could just come back and say, though. “Maybe talk to some of my advisors. They’re doing what’s best. I’ll listen. I guess that’s my job.” Not that it did much of good, but there were other people that probably could use some good listening skills.

“Well how do you think love works, then?” Stella worried at her lower lip for a moment, wishing that everything made just a bit more sense right now. Everyone was all interested in these romances that didn’t actually involve the kind of romance that she was looking for at the moment, and it was stressing her out. She had thought that the world had made at least a little sense, and now it didn’t. “I mean… more than just a friend. And not family. Someone that I mean everything to even though I’ve messed up a million times, and we hold hands, and say really nice things to each other, and- I don’t know, there’s things that aren’t very polite to talk about in public.”

~

Maya wouldn’t swear she could read people well, but Stella didn’t seem too sure of her future as a princess.  Did she not want the position? Or the responsibility of it? Not that Maya could blame her for worrying about the burden of duty, but . . . what did her uncertainty mean for the people of the South Pacific?  She let it go for now – she wasn’t Stella’s mother or sister and had no right to lecture or question her on her position.

“Are you talking about romance or love?” Maya pressed, wanting to clarify. “I . . . am probably not the person to talk to about romance.  It never made much sense to me. It’s not something I’m . . . comfortable with.” The whole topic made her skittish.  She preferred friendship, companionship, not the pressure she saw in people’s lives when it came to romance.  “Love . . .” Maya paused as she tried to consider what she wanted to say. “Love is knowing a person, knowing their lightness and wanting to be with them because of it.  It is also knowing their darkness and wanting to be with them despite it. It’s . . . having someone – or more than one – that you put above yourself.” She spread her hands. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a fairytale – it’s work and sacrifice and overcoming obstacles.”

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Stella sighed in frustration. She wasn’t comparatively that young in the grand scheme of things, and this was extremely irritating. There were way more restrictions placed on Stella than Gaya. No matter what Maya said, there was no understanding. Had any other princesses actually escaped without telling anybody? She didn’t think so. “It’s worth hearing out other people, I think.”

She put her head in her hands for a moment after Maya asked what was wrong. So, so much was wrong. “I…” Stella didn’t want to have to lie, but this was so embarrassing. “I thought Port Vale was going to be this big adventure. I thought I’d get to hang out with… my mom and my best friend in the same place. I just- When they were saying that these would be matched up dates on the love holiday, I got my hopes up that maybe I’d get to find true love too. It’s just me being stupid again.” She shuffled around in place, ready to walk away if this got too overwhelming.

~

“I hope you keep that mindset when you return to your responsibilities in the South Pacific,” Maya sighed. “I think people just had too much on their mind . . . or they didn’t want to hear about trouble when the truce settled over the oceans.” No one wanted to hear about new shadows when the sun finally came out from behind the clouds of war.

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

“And it seems to be working. Whatever she plans, everyone seems to be talking about it, and after tonight that won’t change either. Just think about it, if it goes well, it’s going to be a big hit still, if it will be lackluster, everyone will be talking about that. Either way, she will be the news of the town for a good while.” And maybe that is what Victoria wanted too. It would have made sense.

“I went too,” Gaya told the other woman. “Not because of Victoria, Abja convinced me to, but it still feels like a good thing, that woman probably wouldn’t have been happy if I worked so close to the council and didn’t participate. Which kind of raises the question, why didn’t she?” She shook her head, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. “Anyway, how was yours? Did it go well?”

~

“She does seem to like . . . making a scene?” Maya commented, wrinkling her nose a bit as she tried to decide if she’d used the right phrase.  Glancing around the room, she frowned in consideration. “Or something like that . . . as I don’t think I’ve actually seen her yet this evening.” Her eyes refocused on Gaya. “And it is interesting that she didn’t participate.”

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“Personally, I think so.  Most people are trying to belong and all that,” Renzie said, adding a little laugh because he didn’t want to get to deeply philosophical.  He had a feeling Maya was that kinda gal, and Renzie often started feeling out of his depth among the more adeptly intellectuals.  He could skim the surface, he couldn’t dive.  

“But you know given that I’ve lived in Port Vale my whole life and literally never travelled beyond the next city over…I’m a little biased.  I really like that you get it though, Maya.” He looked at her, happy to be impressed by her.  “That’s so cool of you.”

She fell silent as he went off about other sea people - half-joking, but also still feeling relieved to just get it out in the open.  Hiding in plain sight; he was sure Maya’s quiet was likely just trying to adjust to some of the Port Vale weirdness and obsession with sea-people taken to a whole new level.  She was just trying to be polite, Renzie was so sure.  “I have no idea how it works.  I’ve seen pictures - uh.  Paintings, not like photographs of course.  Looks hilarious.”

Renzie laughed more freely when Maya gave him a look for connecting the title of her book to the other.  “Think your book might be movie-material?  Or are you one of the purists who’d refuse to ‘sell out’ to Hollywood mucking about with your creation?”

A memory jar.  Renzie paused in his cheery small talk, remaining quiet as he considered this.  “This isn’t a cool thing to say, but.  You kind of remind me of my ammi.  Not like you’re old or anything weird, just.  She was really thoughtful like you.”  Renzie winced.  

“Is that weird to say.  Oh yo check it!”  He was grateful when he found a way to distract them both, rushing over to an old crumbling wall.  Along one of the old broken stones, was a piece of glass.  Renzie picked it up, then made a face.  “Dang.  I think this is just a broken beer bottle.”

~

A hint of a blush darkened Maya’s cheeks as she shook her head. “I . . . well, I think of myself as a small-town person,” she admitted. “I feel more comfortable when I know my neighbors and not surrounded by a bunch of strangers.” She gave a self-depreciating laugh.  “Which would be hard to tell given how often I’ve moved around. It’s just . . . I never found somewhere I thought I could belong. Port Vale felt promising from the moment I arrived.”

Hippocampi . . . Selkie . . . Sirens . . . The mythos of the sea appeared to be growing by leaps and bounds in Port Vale.  What did that mean for them?  “Yes, I imagine it must seem . . . odd,” she agreed, mind racing. “Was it the Greeks . . . or the Romans that brought them into their mythology? I can’t recall.” The hippocampi were the eldest of the sea peoples as far as she knew, but she knew so little about their origins.

The book topic felt a good deal more comfortable.  “I’m . . . leery of Hollywood,” Maya admitted. “I don’t really like people twisting my characters, my meanings.  And I’ve seen it happen with so many good books.” She paused in thought. “I should say that I don’t get fussy or irritated with the fans doing their thing – fan fiction, fan art, that kind of thing. I don’t look for it, so I don’t see what they do with my work, but Hollywood?  They make money off of it. If they would stay true to the characters and the story, that would be one thing, but they don’t. So . . .” She spread her hands.

At his words, Maya stopped and gave him a warm smile, brighter than she’d given before. “That’s one of the sweetest things I think you could have said,” she assured him.  “And I certainly took it as a compliment.”