The city of Patino shimmered beneath the moonlight, its coral towers rising like cathedral spires from the heart of the central island.
The whole archipelago had been named after this particular island. This was the ancestral home of all Tidecallers. Patino.
Everything in the city was connected to the sea. The current of the sea passed the entry corrals, turning bioluminescent, and flowing between the buildings, casting the streets in shades of deep blue and green.
At the highest point of the city, within a spire wrapped in glass and shell, the High Elder stood alone on her balcony.
The wind tugged at her long silver robes. Her hair, braided with kelp-thread, moved like drifting seaweed.
She leaned against the edge of the balcony, staring out at the city.
Even from here, she could see the preparation lines below. Soldiers arming themselves, artisans reinforcing docks, whispers spreading among the people like waves.
