It is chilly. Up here, winter leaves later than down in the planes. Only the warmth comes sooner — but it is the warmth of the sun, not the warmth of the spring. And the sun takes it with it when it leaves me.

I don’t like the sun. It is a strange orb. Destined to give energy to what is already lost; to spend its own energy on things that will never outlive it. The sun might see it differently, if it thinks about it, at all.

I remember the time when people claimed to hear the sun talking. Lunatics. Today, humans call them seers, if I am not mistaken. They believe to see the future and get rich from it.

My sister saw the future, snippets of it. She always said: “The future is dark. There is not much to see.” I wonder how much she really saw. If she knew but never found a way to stop, what was coming.

I miss her.

My eyes skim the horizon for the storm. I feel it tickling in my veins, I’ve felt it down below, too. The first storm of this spring. An occasion I should remember. Before the moon sets, that storm will rage through the lands and sing of the end, audible only for me. Because I am the only one left who speaks its voice.

Something in the sea catches my eye. A droplet of light beneath the black waves. What is that? I squint, and my heart stops.

No. No, no, no! I know what this is. And this shouldn’t be there. This light does not belong in the ocean! When did that happen? How could I not notice that? And what do I do now? Down there, at the bottom of the ocean, lays my promise.

Tears run down my face, and I scream. I scream like thunder, and I feel the sound being ripped from my mouth.

I reach out and grab the shimmer. I will not let this happen. I don’t care. As long as it shimmers, it’s alive. As long as it’s alive, I can protect it. I have to. I will not lose. Not now, not again.

I feel the slow, slow heartbeat. I feel the cold water around me. My world goes dark, as the pressure around me changes, and I stop breathing. I don’t let go.

For whatever might I have left, I don’t let go.

My knees buckle, and the ground hits me hard, as I drown up here in the mountains.

But I feel it. I feel how deep down in the ocean, Amari Omeyega opens her eyes.

And my heart starts beating, again.