Under the pale whisper of dawn, Rynn approached the shore. Barefoot, the cool sand nibbled at her toes, while the rhythmic symphony of waves played an ancient tune. This was the eve of her initiation.
The elders had spoken of ages past, where young ones found their true path among the murmurs of the sea. Rynn was determined to heed the call, despite the fear tugging at her heart. She was neither alone nor lost; the wind carried the voices of her ancestors, guiding her tread upon the porcelain stretch of sand.
She recalled the legends—midnight shadows that danced upon the crags, a chorus of stars that twinkled just beyond reach. Tonight, she would join that dance. The village had prepared her––their stories, woven into her dreams like gnarled roots anchoring a tree.
A lone gull cried, punctuating the vast silence, and Rynn felt the air shift, an invitation wrapped in whispers of salt and sea fern. She stepped carefully, each footfall a heartbeat beneath stars that winked knowingly from their celestial thrones.
"Face the waves," the elder had said. "And speak your truth. Let the waters embolden your heart." Rynn wished for courage, unknown to her, already pulsing in the tides, folding around her like a great translucent mantle.
She knelt, hesitant yet resolute. Breaking the silence, she spoke fragments of herself into the caressing tides: dreams half-formed, fears cloaked in shadows, desires flickering like candlelight behind fogged glass.
The shoreline consumed her words, their echo fading into the abyss, where sea and sky glassed like a churning firmament. Slowly she submerged her hands, feeling the current wrap around fingers as gentle as a lover's kiss.
Hours, days, lifetimes could have passed in that instant. Rynn's initiation was not of blood or ritual fire, but of understanding—an awakening cradled within the transitory embrace of ocean and starlight.
When Rynn rose, she was not the same girl who had tiptoed apprehensively to the shore. Instead, a current thrummed through her veins, the sea's lullaby stitching her into a greater tapestry.
Cross the Water | Starlit Gathering