AQUA

prologue

I have always been in tune with the ocean.

My mother says it is because she found me laying between the waves in a makeshift basket, left alone to nature by the family who never wanted me. The children in the village say it is because I am half fish, half human, my mind always fleeting towards the sea instead of staying on land. They mostly mean this in a bad way. I always stink of fish and shrimps from when my mother and I sell them in the market. I see it as a compliment sometimes; I am the only one in the village who can hold my breath for more than a few minutes. It is something I am proud of, even though it causes weird looks over my shoulder and strange rumors to circulate.

I do not have a lot of friends. My mother is my constant companion, and I spend most of my days fishing or talking to her. There is a reason why the people around the village do not talk to me, but I do not really remember it because it happened when I was a child. Nobody tells me exactly what occurred, it is considered a taboo subject prohibited by the elders. I only know that someone got hurt, and the village blamed my mother and I because we were foreigners and the trouble coincided when we came to live in the village. They banished us to the edge of the forest. I think it is unfair, but mother never complains so I try not to, as well.

I spend most of my days adrift beneath the ocean waves. The sea gives my family everything we need. We wash our bodies in its shallow depths behind a cove of mangroves away from prying eyes. We use spears and woven nets from scraps of nylon to get fish and crabs to sell and eat for supper. The shells we pick from the shore adorn our window sills and serve as jewelry for our handmade dresses. My mother and I live a simple life. It is not much, but it is home.

As a child, I am used to begging my mother for stories before bedtime. Sometimes it is a tale of young love between a brave knight and the clever princess who outsmarted the dragon. Other times, it is about legends and old prophecies. But my favorite story of all is about the birth of the four goddesses. I beg my mother to tell me the same story every night, to the point that I can recite it in my dreams. She always smiles and shakes her head, teasing me that she is too tired but by the end of the night, she has her hands buried in my long dark hair as she plays with the ends in tandem with the lull of her voice. It always feels like a dream.

The story goes something like this.

Before the dawn of time, there is nothing in this world. It is dark and cold. Nothing lives in the barren husks of earth that are empty and vast until a great big ball of fire erupts from the ground in a raging inferno. The fire explodes, and out comes the first phoenix screeching with all her might. She is Ardea, the fire goddess. Ardea is headstrong and independent. She is the first born, and her place is always ahead of her sisters. Then, there comes a great gust of wind so strong that it creates the first typhoon. Swirls of dust circle the earth like a ferocious howl. From inside the storm comes Era, the wind goddess. She is cold and intense like the wind she is born from. Era and Ardea do not get along. They are like fire and ice, warmth and cold, forever circling each other. The two goddesses remain alone at first as they explore their new world. Ardea spreads flames everywhere and Era follows, blowing away the heat. This continues for days, a cycle of creation that turns the world black from the ash. But they are not alone for long. The ash, it seems, is magical.

From the darkest part of the cinders emerges another maiden. She stretches herself upwards from the earth and is named Maya. From where she springs, a trunk of leaves bursts into a large and beautiful tree which we now call the Jacaranda. She is the earth goddess, from where life begins. Each step she takes sings for nature to bloom and thrive. Maya is joyful, with always a hop in her step and a smile on her cheeks. Her spirit is young and ever so bright, just like the life she gives to others. The three goddesses are in conflict and do not know what to do. Ardea and Era keep chasing each other in heated disagreements, and Maya continues to flee from her violent sisters. Chaos and confusion reign over the three for many years until the first rain.