Maktara. I've been here since I was born - created is a better word for it. In the middle of Zuras, under the light of only stars, the Aether Pool brought me to life. Against the dirty stone of the town, and the inky-black of the sky, my white coat glowed.

And I was alone.

The desert winds are colder than you think they are, especially to a young one. Don't listen to a scholar who has only studied Maktara when they tell you of the freezing nights - they will always be wrong. The cold leeches into your bones like a hellish burn, and stays there, longer than you think you could possibly stand it.

Finally, I plucked up the courage to leave the bright pool, and wandered the town, not hearing a word from any mouths - there were no arguments, no hushed deals, no fleeting goodbyes. In my innocent eyes, I had been born into a world that was dead to me.

When I finally awoke, curled into the corner of an alley, it was to a sun hotter than I had ever felt, and there were pairs of curious eyes above me. Two others like myself - Niravar, as I would come to learn - stared down at me. They exchanged a glance, eyes glimmering at each other with unspoken agreement. One of them picked me up by the scruff of my neck - without protest from myself; I was too weak - and took me to their home by the docks.

The sound of the ocean was the first word I heard; the sound of her waves crashing upon the beach and dragging a little bit of Maktara into the sea, back to settle upon the seafloor where the land belongs. It was almost too loud at first, the assertion of seafoam bubbling with each distant whitecap, and I was terrified. Seeing my expression, the couple carried me into their house - into shelter, salvation.

It was sparsely decorated, but beautiful in the way that all loved things are, from what I could tell of the entrance. There was another small room, tucked off to the side. Its door seemed less used than the rest of the house, but once carried inside, I marveled at the contents. Toys, bedding, and a small bowl filled with smooth, transparent stones. The bowl sat on a table, low to the ground, and the one who had been carrying me set me down, to explore the room. Above me, the two adults conversed, their voices rumbling soothing words that meant nothing to my ears at the time.

I understood one thing though - that this was my home now. The next day, my life was going to begin, but for now, I adjusted to the life I had been adopted into; like my birth from the pool I had no option here either.

I spent the rest of that first day playing - the toys seemed well-loved, the soft blankets made even softer by generations of paws kneading it. While I slept, one of my protectors left the house, and when they returned, I woke to a shell hanging above my bed.

It was shaped like a small horn, spiraling in on itself. The inside was a creamy white, the sheen of the shell reflecting my curious eyes back at me. The outside was dark, grooved, and spiked - the blue of its outside reminded me of the sky on my first night, and the smallness of myself against it. I felt that for some reason, this shell was a gift to me. I knew it had been left as a gift, obviously, by my protectors, but there was something about it that felt close to my heart. Like the words of the ocean were once again flowing through me, loud, beautiful words about an entire world under the water’s surface.

I felt comforted, automatically, and each day when waking to the shell, it brought light and hope to my world.

The first years of my life went slowly, without incident. I grew and played, exploring my small world by the sea. I had been forbidden from entering the town, under caution from my parents about the bandits in the town. They were never strict with me, instead kind and understanding - especially where I differed from other cubs about my understanding of the world. I wish I could’ve grown up like them.

It wasn't until I was called upon to ask for the water's protection that I truly realized how different from them I was. I knew these things were traditionally done under the sun, but I knew myself - I knew the place where I truly belonged was under the two moons. So, with the permission of my guardians, I stepped onto the creaky old dock. They watched, concern evident on their faces.

I took a deep breath, looking at the moons above. They were a soft yellow, full and hanging low together on the horizon. The tide below was so quiet compared to the heartbeat in my ears that I felt deafened by it. Waves so dark they were the blue of a fresh bruise enveloped me when I leapt off the dock, like a great mouth swallowing me whole.

All I could do was pray. I thought of the world above my body, the sunshine that hurt my eyes, the stars like greying hairs on a jet pelt. I felt a current around my body, lifting me - too slowly, I wondered for a moment. At this speed, we might not make it to the surface before I lost my last gasp of air. It was foolish at the time, but I gave up then. I put my full faith in this current.

My head broke the surface, and I was being held above the docks, above my protectors, above it all. But the spirit did not drop me unceremoniously upon the sand - instead, it twirled a watery appendage around the shell that I had tied upon my neck. The inside of the shell started to pulse with a soft blue glow, bioluminescent dinoflagellates swirling softly from the water spirit and back.

I looked deep into the water, not through it, but at it. I knew these spirits were old - everyone did. But I knew them, somehow intrinsically, like they were kin to me. Like a family lost to geography, to time, to death. The spirit set me down upon the grainy sand, sinking slowly back into the calm, unusually glassy sea. My parents rushed over, checking on me, congratulating me, hugging me.

As much as I loved them, something about that night separated us. I grew older, as we all must, and left as soon as I could. I did not want to burden them with my internal struggle. These are my origins; this is how I arrived in Maktara, and this is how I've come to see the wrecked ship in a hazy storm - heavier than my heart and this desert have ever seen.