It was early morning when Saia, her father and her brother Lassem returned to shore with their cargo of fish.

“Uh, there's a sea snake in the net,” Nass said.

Saia moved before her dad could. She walked over to the other side of the boat, where they had secured the net against the hull. The red, black and white shape of the snake was writhing wildly against the mesh.

Saia kneeled and bent forward to look closer. She felt a hand on her shoulder and saw her dad crouching next to her.

“I want to try,” she said.

“I know. Put this on, first.”

He was holding out one of his old leather gloves. It was too big for her, which meant less precision, but also a lot of extra protection. She still needed it, despite it not being the first time she caught a sea snake: the danger of the bite didn't lie in the venom, but in the neverending whining of the goddess that would have healed it.

She raised her hand over the snake, out of the reach of its fangs.

“Let it tire out,” her dad said.

Her brother stepped back, giving them a slightly disgusted look.

Saia attacked. Her hand closed the jaws together just when they were opening to bite her. She extricated the snake with the other hand and extracted it from the net. She took the knife from her blue cloth belt and quickly killed the animal.

“Good job,” her dad said. “The merchants from Lausune pay well for this kind of meat. It's a local specialty.”

Saia let the blood fall into the sea, then wrapped the snake in a rough piece of old cloth.

“I’m never visiting Lausune,” Nass commented, rowing to get the boat closer to the dock.

Saia exhaled a bitter laugh. ‘Nobody is’, she gestured, pretending to fix her clothes. She secured a rope around the rings on the stern of the boat, then jumped onto the dock and tied it around one of the poles. The three of them heaved the net out of the boat and brought it to the fishing house nearby. It was an old wooden warehouse where fishers left boats and tools and extricated their preys from the nets. There was just another family at the moment, on the other side of the ample room, mending their own net from holes and general usage. Saia and Lassem brought the boat inside while their dad started the long process of extracting the fish. Saia was about to sit down to help him, when Nass put a hand on her shoulder and led her to the side, where they were half-hidden between two boats hanging from the wall.

“You're seeing Ceila later, right?” he asked.

“Yes, we're supposed to have lunch together. Why?”

He took out a small wooden box from the leather satchel that was tied to his waist.

“Could you deliver this for me?”

Saia looked at the box, raising her eyebrows.

“You should give it to her yourself.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

He pretended to cough, gesturing with his free hand. ‘You know why.’

“Just do it,” he said.

Saia rolled her eyes and took the box. It tingled gently while she slipped it inside a pocket.

After the morning's work was finished, she left the bay and began her ascent toward the temple.

“A necklace,” a voice said in her ears. “How original.”

Saia ignored the goddess. The people that were walking in the opposite direction still gave her a knowing look. She'd learned, like everyone else, that even if a person wasn't outright speaking to the air there was a certain tension in their expression that only appeared when the goddess was communicating with them.

“I find such a gift from a close friend in poor taste. This might get in the way of Ceila and Tome's budding feelings.”

Saia wanted to rebuke that Ceila and her brother weren't just close friends and there weren't any budding feelings between Tome and her. But not only Vizena wouldn't have listened to her, she would also have found a way to put even more distance between Ceila and Lassem than the one they were already keeping for fear of the goddess's intervention.

“You should tell her the gift is from Tome. This way, your brother will be spared the awkwardness and Ceila will be encouraged to share her true feelings.”

Saia gripped the railings of the first set of stairs as she'd have gladly gripped Vizena’s neck, if she wasn't made of stone.

“You're asking me to lie?”

“I’m telling you how to solve a very delicate situation in a way that spares everyone's feelings and removes the need for less delicate interventions.”

“She'll wonder why Tome didn't give her the gift himself, since they dance together.”

“Let her wonder. Mystery enhances romantic feelings, my child. Not that you would know.”

Saia didn't see other ways for her to protest further, and the goddess's tone signaled that the conversation was finished: only a fool would have willingly continued to engage with such an unnerving ratbrain.

She walked up two more sets of stairs and stopped two houses short of the junction for the temple. The building on her left had been a house once, but the goddess had transformed it into an enormous training room for her crew of personal dancers, where they could practice and clean themselves afterwards. Nobody else could enter, even the goddess herself refrained to look inside most of the time. Based on what Ceila had told her, every week Vizena mentioned which kind of dance she expected for the next ceremony, then didn’t glimpse at their training until it was time to perform. Which meant that she was often displeased and ordered the assembly to give them fewer tips.

The dancers were leaving at that moment, with the sacks of leather hanging from their shoulders, hair still damp or wrapped in cloth. Ceila said a quick goodbye to everyone else. Saia observed her waving at Tome with a thin smile, lips pressed together, and wondered whether she regretted being such a close friend to him back when he joined the crew.

She waived and Ceila walked over to her.

“I’m so hungry I could consider praying for real for a steak,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag.

Saia was about to reply, but the goddess interrupted her.

“Give her the gift now, before Tome goes too far.”

Saia glanced in the direction he had taken off. He abruptly stopped and said something to the air, tense and confused at the same time.

She sighed and took out the box.

“This is for you,” she said. “From Tome.”

And she gestured while she handed it to Ceila, hand briefly touching her left shoulder and moving forward a bit before going back to rest at her side. ‘My brother.’

Ceila nodded, her face an indifferent mask. She opened the box, briefly admired the content, then closed it and slipped it into a pocket of her pants.

“Thank you. Now, my feet hurt so much I can hear them talk, and they're asking for food.”

Saia smiled, allowing herself to relax a bit. They went to the Turviavin House, one of the two taverns of the city, the one that mostly fed locals instead of merchants or visitors from other villages. It was full as usual, and they had to wait for almost half an hour before one of the tables freed up. None of the customers was there for the food, which consisted mostly of meat and vegetables with little to no elaboration. The main attraction was the plates.

The food arrived quickly after Saia and Ceila had sat down. Fish and beans covered in oil for Saia, steak and salad for Ceila. They spent the first few minutes eating and moving the food aside, to reveal the figure painted at the bottom of each ceramic plate: a stylized person, clothed only with a pale yellow tunic, laying with arms and legs slightly apart.

“So…” Ceila began. “How is it going? Met some nice fish in the last week?”

Saia shrugged.

“Fine, the usual.”

She put the tips of her two-pronged fork on the hip of the figure in her plate, then raised it and moved the tool horizontally in the air. The two gestures combined were the equivalent of brushing a hand on one's right hip, which meant 'boredom'. She quickly spelled more words moving the fork around, stopping only to eat a piece of fish here and there. Her movements were small and controlled, distinguishable without being too noticeable.

‘I’d love to see more of the sea, if that ratbrain would allow us to sail to the other villages.’

Ceila waited a bit before nodding, as if to herself.

‘I understand,’ she gestured with the fork and the figure on her plate.

“How is the dancing going?” Saia asked.

‘You’re going to quit?’ she gestured.

“Vizena has enjoyed the last two performances,” Ceila said.

‘She'll hate the next. And I'm not ready to quit yet.’

“Good for you,” Saia answered, inviting her to elaborate with a quick gesture of the fork.

‘I’m considering my possibilities.’ Ceila cut the meat into smaller pieces, to have more to eat between every sentence. ‘I’ve tried to find work, but they all refused me. Vizena’s pressure.’

“Have you read anything interesting, lately?” Ceila asked.

Saia sensed she hadn't finished answering her original question, but they've been silent for too long and the goddess could be paying attention to them.

“I’ve bought an adventure story set in Elgen, but I haven't started it yet.”

Ceila nodded and started moving her fork again.

‘I’ve thought about becoming a merchant. She doesn't pressure visitors from the outside nearly as much, they could become customers.’

‘What are you going to sell?’

‘I have some ideas, but they’re not viable right now.’

Saia stared at her own almost empty plate, deep in thought. She was lucky to have a father with an already affirmed activity, or the same thing could have happened to her, after refusing multiple times to become Vizena’s official reader.

‘You could work for us.’

Ceila smiled for an instant, then shook her head.

“Something funny?” Saia asked.

‘I’m serious’, she gestured.

“Nothing, I just remembered the main dancer’s face today when we decided she'd be the one to make the crab's jump.”

She immediately flinched after saying that.

“Yes, goddess. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were listening.” She paused, her jaw tense. “Yes, I know you like surprises, but I swear I didn't ruin it. You’ll be satisfied at the next ceremony.”

Saia waited patiently for the tension to disappear from Ceila's face. She launched on some mindless gossip about the other fishers, the only way to make Vizena’s attention drift away; she didn’t listen to gossip because she’d already seen every single event happening in front of her.

‘I smiled because you're amazing for asking me to work with you,’ Ceila continued. ‘But I can't accept. I suspect that she would make it a point of pride to make your family's life impossible as revenge.’

Saia nodded, not entirely convinced.

‘I could still come with you sometimes, if you really need the help. It would be worth it to spend some time with you and Nass.’

‘Do you want to see him now?'

Ceila's eyes widened a bit.

‘Only if it isn’t too much trouble.’

They quickly finished the food left on their plates.

“I’m going to the market, now,” Saia said. “Do you want to come with?”

Ceila nodded. They walked up to the counter and paid. Saia added a big tip for the owners, something a lot of customers did to thank them for never changing those 'ugly plates', as Vizena called them every time she mentioned the tavern.

The market sprawled across the central square and main street, as well as some side alleys full of shops. As usual, there were foreign merchants and visitors, which meant that the pious lurked at every corner: people like Ceila’s mother and one of Saia’s uncles, who always made a huge show of worshipping the goddess, constantly telling everyone to trust her will and follow her orders if they wanted to be happy like they were.

Everyone else knew the truth, which like all the truths in Suimer could only be discussed in silence, possibly over a plate in the Turvianin House: they only followed Vizena’s orders because they already wished to be what the goddess wanted them to become. Their mistake was thinking that their situation was a rule, that Vizena already knew everyone’s deepest desires even before they realized what they were, and that resisting her meant being of a lesser moral stance. The goddess, of course, was smart enough to encourage those thoughts in every way she could.

Saia’s dad’s stall was in the main square. Lassem was handing out fish to a customer, so he managed to keep a focused face even when he saw them approaching.

“Hi,” he said, eyes fixed on Ceila. His hands gestured some words that Saia decided not to observe.

“I’m taking your place for a bit,” she said. “Go have fun.”

‘But not far,’ she gestured. 'She won't let you alone.’

She exchanged place with her brother, maneuvering around the crowd of people that were observing the stalls. Somehow they managed to always be in the way despite barely moving.

She stood behind the stall and immediately answered the inquiry of an old woman about the price of mackerel.

“I thought you hated handling customers," her dad said.

'Still together?' he gestured, scratching his beard with the other hand.

“Yeah,” Saia answered, glancing toward the fountain at the center of the square, where Lassem and Ceila were sitting at a more than respectful distance.

“And you?” he asked with a smirk.

“No one,” she said.

‘I couldn't handle that,’ she gestured.

And she pretended to fix the back of her shirt, raising her elbow to point at the fountain. There had been people she'd liked as potential partners, but she'd taken care to limit the contact with them as much as possible, if not completely. Romantic love was something she forced herself not to feel.

Her dad was gesturing something, but the approach of a customer interrupted him.

“How did you and mom meet each other?” Saia asked. She already knew the story, but hoped her dad would understand what she was actually trying to ask.

“At the Turviavin, during a card tournament. She was a champion and I was so ridiculously bad I left an impression."

He gestured here and there while he spoke, pretending to move the fish around to cover the holes of what had already been bought.

‘The elders know how to manipulate her. It's complicated, it requires a long time to convince her that the couple is meant to be.'

He was moving his hands so fast Saia was sure the goddess would have noticed, if she hadn't been undoubtedly focused on Ceila and her brother.

‘But it's a slow thing. You have to be certain and the other person has to feel the same.’

“Who made the first move?” Saia asked.

He smiled.

“Technically me, since the first turn of that wretched match was mine. But I'll concede that your mother was the one to offer me a beer afterwards.”

‘They didn’t help your brother immediately because they weren’t sure Ceila wasn’t a pious.’

Saia nodded. She knew her friend hadn’t been taught the gestures for her first years at the pond, in case she followed her mom’s example and started worshipping Vizena. By the time she’d proved herself through additional secret-keeping tasks, the course of her life was already charted in the goddess’s mind.

Her dad suddenly frowned, looking somewhere behind her.

“What's going on?”

Saia turned: Ceila and her brother weren't visible anymore, surrounded by a crowd of people.

“I’ll go check on them,” she said, leaving her place behind the stall.

Her dad nodded, waving a hand to show his agreement.

As soon as Saia reached the outskirts of the crowd, she heard Vizena’s voice coming from above.

“The question is very simple, my dears. What were you trying to do?”

Saia couldn't see her brother, so she guessed he was in the area free of people near the fountain. She pushed people aside, Vizena’s voice becoming clearer while she advanced. Lassem and Ceila were standing next to the low wall, one more step of distance than the one they’d been keeping before.

Saia pushed two more onlookers aside and entered the clearing around the fountain.

“What's going on?” she asked out loud, looking up at the sky as if she could see Vizena’s complacent face smiling down from the clouds.

“I’m glad you're here, Saia. Maybe you'll be able to put some sense into your brother's head.”

She looked at him: he moved his hand as if to gesture something, then let it fall back at his side and lowered his eyes. Ceila's face was a mask of indifference, gaze lost in the distance. She didn't gesture either, because her hands were closed in fists.

Saia sighed.

“I don't understand, goddess.”

“He tried to kiss her, my child. That's not appropriate behavior for a friend.”

“He's more than a friend,” Ceila hissed.

“Are you sure? Care to take out the box in your pocket?”

She obeyed.

“Show us what's inside, my child.”

Ceila tore the lid off. A gust of wind blew through the crowd and the necklace flew out of the box, high enough to be seen by all of the spectators. Saia looked around and realized at that moment that everyone in the area could hear Vizena. She slowly returned her attention to the scene in front of her, wondering why that was happening, since the goddess always talked into people’s ears in a way that made her words inaudible by everyone nearby.

“This was a gift, right dear?”

Ceila reluctantly nodded. The crowd was staring at the jewel, a craftmanship of metal wires, painted shells and pearls. The merchants seemed especially interested, in their colorful clothes of the northern villages.

“A gift from whom?”

Ceila looked at Saia. They both understood that she couldn't tell the truth, or Vizena would have wondered why she knew that the necklace was from Lassem without hearing it from Saia's lips. Lips Ceila trusted a lot, lips that had given her a different name.

“Tome,” Ceila said, and lowered her eyes.

Lassem looked at Saia, eyebrows drawn together in disbelief. She risked the gesture ‘forced to’. He nodded rigidly, then looked up at the floating necklace.

“The matter is very clear, then,” Vizena continued. “Either you two are only friends, and Lassem has to come to terms with that, or you, Ceila, have accepted a very precious gift without telling Tome your actual feelings. That would be a cold thing to do. I didn’t think you were so greedy and untrustworthy.”

Ceila's gaze jumped around the crowd, frantic to gauge its reactions. Saia looked at the foreign merchants and realized they were her potential future customers. She couldn't afford to ruin her reputation in front of them, and she couldn't explain the truth because the gestures, to them, were little more than scratching or catching an insect in mid-air.

She stepped forward.

“Let’s ask Tome. Maybe he only meant that as a friendly gift.”

“There’s no need, dear, because Ceila and Lassem are just friends. Right?”

They looked at each other.

“No,” Ceila said. “We're not just friends. We're…”

“Yes!” Lassem cut her off. “Yes, I'm sorry for this misunderstanding. We're friends. Close, but nothing more.”

Ceila looked at him, eyes a bit narrower.

“Is it what you really want?”

“It's the truth,” he said, gesturing with slightly trembling hands: ‘Your future. Your plans.’

'I don't care,' she answered, butchering the movement in half to take a deep breath and blink a few times.

They both stood in silence after that, looking at the ground.

“What is it then, Ceila?” the goddess asked. “Are you friends, yes or no?”

"Yes," she said, gesturing ‘no’: a hand pressing down the index of the opposite one as if to make it pop.

“We're all in agreement, then,” Vizena said, cheerfully.

Saia felt the blood pounding in her ears. She hated to see Vizena win, but even worse, she hated to see her win with her help. She knew it wasn't her fault, that she didn't really have a say in the matter, but that made everything worse. It made her feel like a puppet.

She counted her options, but there weren't many. The crowd was already losing interest. Soon the merchants would have left, with Vizena’s version of the story firmly in their heads.

“This is not true, and you know it,” she shouted. “You told me to lie.”

“Quit the whining, Saia. This whole thing has nothing to do with you. You should respect your goddess, especially when she's right. Ceila just admitted it.”

“She said 'no', you stinking ratbrain. This,” she repeated Ceila's gesture, “means ‘no’.”

The silence punched at her ears from every direction. She glanced at the crowd, where the interested expressions of the merchants were punctuated by the horrified faces of the locals. Even Lassem and Ceila were staring at her with wide eyes.

“Oh,” Vizena said.

They all looked up in the silence that followed.

“Oh,” the goddess repeated, a dangerous awareness in her tone.