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Whenever they visited the ocean, she got a faraway look in her eyes. Still, every year Cas and his family took a week-long trip down to the shores near Ninjago City. It was always a fun week, full of ice cream trips and seafood broils and occasionally dad setting himself on fire trying to cook, only for Cas to save him with a quick splash of salty seawater, but there was an anxiety that hovered around his parents beforehand that Cas didn’t quite understand when he was younger.
Dad’s hands would shake when mom went swimming, usually still wearing her coverup and hat even when they got both soaked. He watched as she splashed around with Cas and Leia, bolting up when the waves would occasionally sneak up and knock her over, leaving her wavy hair clinging to her cheeks as she laughed and spluttered.
Cas always admired the ease with which his mom moved in the water. She looked like a mermaid with her legs kicking together and her long hair floating around her neck. He wondered if it was due to her former role as the elemental master of water, or just how she’d always been. He never understood his dad’s anxiety. Mom looked like she belonged in the water.
He understood more when she got that far-off look. It always happened twice each trip down to the beach, once when they arrived and once when they prepared to leave. She would stop at the crest of the dunes and face the water. Her eyes would lose focus, her body would relax, and sometimes she even started humming. Usually, she was pulled back by their dad taking her wrist.
“C’mon, honey,” he would murmur, followed by “we have to go home” or “let’s go set up.”
Then she would turn her head and smile at him, eyes coming back into focus. “Sorry,” she said, her voice lighter than normal. “I was listening.”
“I know.”
Then they would start moving.
Those moments made Cas’s stomach turn. Something about how his mom changed, seemed so different… then he understood his dad’s fears, though he still couldn’t explain why he was so scared of her being in the water.
When he got older, he learned about Wojira, Kalmaar, and the attack his mother saved them all from. He knew his parents spared some details, but the message was clear enough. His mother became the sea. She disappeared. It took one year to bring her back using the Serpentine Aspheera’s magic.
The weight of the knowledge hung over Cas like a rain cloud. He understood.
So when they made their yearly trips to the beach, he watched as his mom listened to the call of the sea when they arrived and before they left. He realized her ease in the water wasn’t simply a facet of who she was or her formerly held powers, but from a year being part of the water itself.
As he grew further and trained his powers, he started to hear it too. It wasn’t a voice, per se, but more like a song. A chorus of whispers hidden in the whoosh of receding water and crash of waves on the sand.
When he was thirteen, he woke up early one morning, unable to sleep because of how loud the whispers were. It was raining, with the barely risen sun hidden behind gray clouds. In the bunk above him, his sister snored soundly. Quietly, he crept out of bed and into the front room of the cabin they stayed in. No noise from the kitchen meant his parents weren’t up. So he slipped on his flip-flops, eased the wooden door open, and turned the knob before shutting it. The rain, he could now feel, was closer to a fine mist. It did nothing to dull the taste of salt in the air. He could still hear those whispers, unintelligible but strong. Did they exist in the rain, too? He never heard them in the rain at home. Maybe it was because of their closeness to the sea?
He wandered towards the dunes, moistened sand sinking under his feet as he climbed to the top and surveyed the beach. It was totally clear, aside from one figure standing in a teal wrap and wide-brimmed hat with a matching ribbon.
Cas slid down the sand mountain and stood next to his mom. She had that faraway look again and was mouthing something. After a moment, her eyes slid towards him.
“Morning, Cas,” her voice sounded like a melody, soft and sweet.
“Hey, mom.”
Silence fell between them as the mist continued to dampen their hair and clothes. Waves broke on the shore, replacing each other before the ones before had a chance to fully retreat.
“What do you hear?” Nya asked.
“I dunno. Whispers. Just… the ocean.”
“Can you hear her?”
“Who?”
Nya shook her head. “Never mind. Better not to invite it.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“You’re not gonna… go back, are you?”
“No, of course not,” but there was a hesitance in her voice.
“Do you ever want to?”
“Yes. Even without my powers. It’s like… could you imagine not having a toe?”
Cas nodded.
“It would be weird, right? It’s an inconsequential part of you, one you rarely noticed before losing it, but now that it’s gone, it’s all you notice and it takes years to grow used to not having it. Some days, something reminds you of it, that loss, and it’s like all the emptiness comes rushing back at once,” she furrowed her brow, “does that make sense?”
Cas nodded.
“I would never want to give up my life with you, or Leia, or Jay. I love our family. I would never want to leave your uncles or aunts again. But, when we visit this beach…”
“Why do we always come back?”
“Because it hurts worse to be away for too long. So your dad and I make it a trip every year. One week of us together, one week for me to feel her presence before going back to that emptiness.”
Cas nodded.
“I love seeing you both swim. You’re so much better than Kai was at your age.”
“Really?”
“You know, he didn’t learn to swim until he was almost twenty.”
“Really?!”
“Yeah, I had to teach him!” Now, she was laughing, her voice was back to its normal boisterousness. Cas felt the tension in his arms release as he laughed with her. The mist and clouds dissipated, giving way to the bright sun bathing the world in its golden light. Gulls swooped down onto the beach, cawing good mornings to each other. Nya and Cas sat down and continued talking and laughing until Jay called to them from the top of the dune, holding a picnic basket and a few towels.
“If I’d known you were both gonna come watch the sunrise,” he said, “I would’ve woken up earlier to do breakfast.”
They ate sandwiches and drank orange juice, watching the ocean, until Leia made the mistake of tossing a spare bacon crumb at a seagull nearby. Under threat of a feathery robbery, they retreated back to the cabin, laughing all the while.
“Okay, next lesson when we get home,” Nya said once they were back in, picking a few bits of down from her hair, “talking to animals.”
“He can do that?!” Leia gaped.
“Presumably. Trust me, it comes in real handy during sticky situations.”