Submission (#3380) Approved

The barest promise of spring lingered in the chill winds that buffeted the shores of Ealei. Not that the season ever truly mattered; the strong gales coming off the open ocean were always cold, always tinged with mist and salt from crashing waves and sea spray. While it was still too early to see Pomu emerge from their crystal hibernation, what truly excited everyone was the coming end of miasma season.

No more huddling in the creche during long nights, whispering of the corruption and what terrible things happened to those caught outside the protection of the town wards and the ambient magic of the local Nobles. Poema mused to herself as her kite soared ever higher into the great blue sky. Late night Kittom stories could tumble and spin, egged on by other Kittoms, into some truly twisted imaginings. She knew she was perhaps a little guilty for some of them.

The cheerful chime of nautical bells signaled the arrival of a small watercraft toward the local harbor. Poema caught a quick glimpse of a scarlet-sailed sailboat, one of the tourist ships providing guided tours to visitors, from the corner of her eye. Now that miasma was finally beginning to lift, a few tourists and hobby fishernin once again gathered at the docks.

While most of Poema's attention was focused on her sturdy diamond framework of bamboo and pink silk making graceful arcs around the puffy white clouds, her ears also caught the excited shrieks of her fellow Kittoms, some shouts of frustration and so many plodding, racing footfalls mixing into the commotion. Impromptu games of tag and chase dashed and darted around the kite fliers. Honestly, it was a wonder no one fell off the cliffs.

Wait, no one had fallen off the cliffs, had they? Trying to ward off jinxing the whole happy moment, Poema flashed an apologetic grin toward the Elnin watching nearby, no doubt causing a few puzzled reactions. Other than the adults' colorful cluster of Pomu lanterns, some lovingly decorated with streamers and tassels, all bobbing and dancing on the stiff breeze, no one made movement to investigate.

Still, if anything bad happened, it wasn't her fault.

Then again, thinking about it, what really was the worst that could happen?

Poema took a few cautious steps back as she guided her kite along the tumultuous wind currents, nudging a fuzzy Kittom backside with her foot before she tripped on someone and caused her own small commotion. But even if someone did take a tumble from the cliffs, that someone would probably just roll down the mossy slope, and they'd be running back up the hill again.

If they were really unlucky, they'd end up with a quick dip in a terribly cold ocean, and they'd be running back up the hill again. Probably sobbing. Poema knew she would be if she found herself in that scenario. Growing up, the warm embrace of the tropical ocean and soft sand beaches of Palu'au were all she knew. When she and her guardian had moved to Ealei, on the trailing end of FeyHallow no less, Poema had remembered crying for days.

Still, these soft drops had nothing on the Castle Cliffs, where very bad luck would find you impaled on the jagged spikes covering the rocky ravine below, or nearby Mourning Rock near the old lighthouse, where legends told of a heartbroken maiden throwing herself into the crashing depths when her lover failed to return from his long sea voyage.

Those, you didn't just run back up the hill.

Come to think of it, Poema thought to herself, those would make amazing ghost stories over the evening bonfire. Mourning Rock especially could easily be thought of as haunted. With a few extra embellishing details...

Her kite made a swooping dive toward the ground, the line falling slack in her hands, suggesting a sudden shift in the winds Poema hadn't anticipated. Scrambling to reel in her line to save her kite, or at least keep it from drifting into the ocean, Poema sprinted like she was rescuing a dying bird. She was in no mood for that chilly swim in that rocky cold ocean, nor for losing her brand new kite.

By some minor stroke of magical fortune Poema managed to not slip on a loose rock, nor the mist-soaked mossy cliff stones, nor even on another Kittom hoping to score a prank by tripping her. Her kite made its precarious drop from the heavens, but her luck held, and Poema was able to meet it before the awful perils racing through her mind became reality.

Poema wound the last length of kite string around the spool, scooping her imperiled pink diamond up into her arms, when a familiar paper orb bounced off her shoulder. Hoku, her Pomu. Rather, her Pomu lantern. His was a simple paper lantern she'd crafted in a traditional style, round to represent the pearls they both held so dearly, decorated with a faint wave pattern traced in white ink.

She held back laughter at the sight. Never would Hoku ever have entertained the very idea of running in the wind, chasing after kites. Hoku's idea of a good time was stashing cookies into their shared shadow, then snoozing the day away in a comfortable sunbeam, perhaps while Poema did some journal work. This was the closest she'd ever have to spending this kind of afternoon together, with him outside her shadow.

On the subject of shadows, the sun peeked back out from behind the fluffy clouds, casting sparkling sunbeams out across the churning water. In her mad dash Poema hadn't even noticed the sunlight had gone. Perhaps when she had pondered those ghost stories...

A newly cold shudder ran through Poema's spine with that thought. She shook her head, taking her kite and kite spool into her hands as she made the slow trudge back up the hill. Back to flying kites. Maybe some ideas, even maybe good ideas, were best kept to oneself.