"Fiery Birds", Part III

As the village of Seaside slowly awoke, it was apparent that one of their own had disappeared.

And he had taken a boat.

Zho's mother frantically called on the village elders, and soon everybody was gathered on the village square. She told how her impetuous son had left in the middle of the night, that he had taken many of his things, and that he had seemed restless for some time.

All of the elders were concerned, but none more than Gioff. He had seen this before, in Zho's father Kha.

This was a problem that would need to be taken care of.

Again.

However, Gioff was no longer one of the village leaders, he was simply the eldest of the elders. He wielded no power. 

At least as far as they knew, he had no power.

It was near noontime when Gioff slipped away from the commotion in the village square, following the fishermen out to the docks and their boats. He stood on the shore, leaning on his walking stick, looked out across the sea for a long period of time.

Then, he turned and walked south, along the shoreline, until he came upon a small trail that led into the coastal oaks. Looking behind him, he saw that no one was nearby, and he ducked into the trail. 

As he walked along, he became more upright, and carried his walking stick now more as a weapon. He disappeared into the woods.

-

Zho had fallen asleep, and had no idea how far he had drifted. The noonday Sun shone down upon him, as he lay beneath his oilskin coat that he had packed in case of bad weather. It was neither hot nor cool, just a little warm. 

From what Zho could tell, the prow of his boat was still pointed north. To his west, a low line of trees could be seen. Land. Wherever he was, he had drifted nearer to the shoreline. The trees here appeared very low, and soon seemed to disappear, like the edge of another shore, perhaps a bay. 

Zho grabbed the oars, and started to row in the direction of the shoreline. The current seemed to push him along, making the going easier. The waves were growing smaller as well, and soon he could see where they were breaking along what appeared to be a sandbar. 

When he reached it, after an hour of rowing, he discovered that it was a narrow strip of beach, with low sand dunes. He pulled the boat ashore, and headed towards the dunes. 

They were topped with sea oats, long and yellow and waving softly in the breeze. He climbed the dune, and before he he saw a vast marsh. Zho had never seen a marsh so large. There was one south from Seaside, but it was only a few acres. This stretched almost to the horizon. Zho had never seen anything like it. 

He carefully walked down the marsh side of the dunes. As he reached level ground, he noticed that under the sand was what appeared to be very coarse, and very dark, rock. He bent down to brush some sand off to look at it closer. 

It was a strange material, almost soft. It disappeared under the dunes, and appeared to run under them and parallel to the shore. It didn't appear like it belonged here at all.

As he stood up straight, he turned around and looked back over the marsh. He noticed what appeared to be the remains of tall trees, long denuded of branches, their trunks standing straight, though some were bent. Some of these trees appear to be spaced evenly, and ran in a line that also paralleled the dunes and the shoreline, but they were a good distance into the marshlands, a trip that Zho was unwilling to make. Like the dark rock under the sand, these dead trees also did not appear to belong here.

He didn't explore the area around the dunes long, though. He had a journey to make. What Zho did know was that he was still far south of the golden glow and the fiery birds, and he wanted to know. His appetite to know was insatiable. 

Like that of his father.