Voices from Port Outreach

• I’m at Clabs doing follow-up work from yesterday’s excitement that I missed. Let me know if there’s anything that needs attention. -Bolo #
• In Balance Reef extracting a nagara from a kinesticist, may take a while to extract myself. -Oxide #
• Speaking of extractions, just pulled a dweed out of Big Lake who got tangled in their swim line. No one hurt, just bedraggled. - Zaq #
• JH: TC requesting mediation for second level negotiations with CLabs. They, ah, prefer someone other than Trixal. - Mam Lix #
• Mam: TC or CLabs prefers? Sand it, had hoped Trix was improving on his issues with young ones. - JH #
• JH: Trix means well, but there’s cross-cultural nuances to consider that I suspect others know more about handling. Perhaps Hlarana?-Mam Lix #
• Mam: Good call. You smooth about being kept out on this one? I know you’re pretty closely tied with the Cables. -JH #
• JH: my emotions are layered on the issue,but my responsibility is clear.I’m not going, so I’ll say I think TC has point on this one.-Mam Lix #
• JH: Zaq did well roping in Trix, you can send him out if you need two. CLabs have valid concerns, make sure they get heard too.-Mam Lix #

By request of TexAnne, I share this child’s tale from my people. The translator on my emkay is working extra hard to go from Spelaean to Zayzan to Tellurian Inglish, so I hope it’s comprehensible. Enjoy!

When the Gale Met the Gurge

A Spelaean folktale

as told by Fali, Rider

In the ago, before the echoes ran deep, the Gale was not settled in place. Before she began to carve her deadly dance into the Valley of Glass, she wandered all across Mother, leaving her mark and her memory wherever she went. Her marks wore deep, and memory of her long; time is longer.

One dusk she happened upon a tangle of currents that the Gale knew were none of hers, not even if changed by time’s polish. She drew the pattern into herself, spinning faster as she danced her way following the current traces. Heedless of where she spun in seeking her goal, in her wake valleys became mountains; stars burst from the earth to soar skywards; whole communities disappeared or destroyed.

The Gale danced pursuit until she encountered her first mirror: sister dancer, the Gurge singing the spinning winds just as the Gale did. They danced together for a time. The sky turned dark; the earth wept; countless died.

The Gale knew their union could not continue, and the multiverse sustain; the Gurge, refusing this knowledge, lost her will to roam. Slowly, inevitably, the Gale pushed the Gurge toward the sea; with each spin their choices of paths further sealed. Even so the Gurge resisted, and so mighty was their strain it tore entire realms asunder. The Gale bound her sister’s current to water with her tears, bonds never since broken.

Water is sister to air, as Gurge to Gale; forever apart, never do they stop singing to each other. The Gale roamed the world for another cycle in grief, and how she found her resting place is a different tale. As they sang then so they do now, and so the sounds continue even to this day.