The cove was just north of Port Bova, difficult to get to by sea, and even more treacherous by land, surrounded as it was by gravelly cliffs. The rocks at its opening kept ships out, and the current made it hazardous for swimmers - unless, of course, those swimmers could control water.
Gannet Del Mar was one such swimmer, and he cut a familiar path along the seafloor while the current tossed above him. Within the cove itself, the water was calm and deep. Schools of small fish passed sluggishly, safe in the knowledge that larger predators couldn't make it in. Gannet floated for a long moment just above the sand, savoring the quiet, before he pushed himself up to the surface.
"Took you long enough!" came a familiar voice as his head broke the water. Ember, Gannet's best friend, sat in her favorite spot on the spit of sand between the cliffs and the sea. Gannet was too far away to make out her face clearly, but they could imagine the way she was smirking at them. He pushed his arms forward, and the water went with them, propelling Gannet towards the shore.
It had been a long time since Gannet had needed to navigate the choppy surface waters at the entrance to the cove, keeping both himself and Ember safe as they swam in from the open sea. Ever since she'd learned the Feather Fall spell, she preferred to make her way here from above rather than below. There had been an era where she insisted on carrying him down the cliffs with her; then one where they'd raced each other, trying to determine the best path. Now they just met here, at least every other day, to bask in the sun away from the bustle of the port.
Gannet washed up on shore now, rolling over the sand like so much flotsam. He stretched his arms and legs out wide to take in the warmth of the sun, but found the light blocked by Ember's face leaning over him.
"Dramatic," she said, and they both laughed. Gannet sat up, trying to prepare himself for what he needed to tell her. Then he caught her eye, held it a little too long, and they both burst out laughing again.
"Were you out working with your mom again?" Ember asked.
"What could be better than a day at the docks?" Gannet replied, rolling his eyes and his sore shoulders. "And the pay is unbeatable, if the contest is cheapskate bosses."
"Poor baby."
"Like you're so much better. How much trouble did the brats give you today?"
"Young Sir and Young Miss were quite pleased with their service today," said Ember in the prim voice she used for nannying. "And were most disappointed when I had to leave them with Mother and Father."
They laughed again. "Get anything good from the old man?" Gannet asked.
"Not today. Mr. Weatherstone's out of town at some wizard conclave. Mrs. Weatherstone says not to go into the library until he gets back."
"Jerk," said Gannet, sticking out his tongue. "You'd think if he pays half your wages in lessons, the least he can do is pay you more when he's gone."
"It is what it is," said Ember with a shrug. "I'm still getting room and board. Besides, he says he'll write me a letter of recommendation when I apply to the academy."
"They'd be idiots not to let you in, letter or otherwise."
"I'll be sure to tell them you said so," said Ember sardonically.
They lapsed into silence, watching the sun set between the cliffs at the edge of the cove.
"I'm going," Gannet said.
Ember turned to look at them. "You're kidding."
"I have to try, don't I?"
"You really don't."
"They've never talked to me before!"
"Exactly!" Ember threw up her hands in exasperation. "They never gave a shit about you, why would they start now?"
Gannet wished vehemently that this moment had never come. He'd made the decision days ago now, had tried time and again to plan how he would tell Ember. But it had never come together, and now the time was upon him. "They want me to travel with them. That's gotta be worth something. Maybe they were waiting until I came of age."
"You're being stupid, Bird," said Ember. "All those times your mom asked for their help? All the times you tried to talk to them? They didn't do shit for you. Now they expect you to run an errand for them? And you want to do it?"
"It's a quest," Gannet insisted. "And I'm not doing it for them. We'll be together. Em, this might be the only chance I get with them."
"I just don't get why you want a chance with them."
"Because they're my parent!" Gannet clenched and unclenched their fists, stood up to pace the beach. If he didn't get the nervous energy out somehow, the water would do it for him, and then he and Ember would both be drenched. "They made me out of sea foam. They gave me to my mom as a gift. And this might be my only chance to find out anything about them!"
"Fine," said Ember. "So they made you. And then they ditched you. Now you want to go running after them? What about everything here?"
"What everything? My stupid dock job? A bunch of dumbass side hustles whose only purpose is to get the fuck out of here? C'mon, Em, you know neither of us is staying here."
Ember drew her knees up to her chest, watched the horizon rather than Gannet. "Maybe not," she said. "But I thought- we'd leave together."
Gannet stopped pacing. They dropped down beside Ember, doodling in the sand with their finger. "We will," he said. "That's always been the plan. I'll be back before you know I'm gone. Then you'll get into the Academy and we'll go together."
"What if you're not?" Ember asked, her voice just audible above the waves. "If you get hurt, or if your parent keeps asking you for more stuff."
"Em," Gannet said, then paused. He held out his hand, waited for her to turn to him and take it. Gannet had never known Ember to cry, but she looked close to it now. "I promise you I'll come back," he said. "We'll get out of here, both of us. Together."
Nearly a decade later, Gannet would stand on the deck of The Vagrant Albatross watching the skyline of Port Bova disappear over the horizon. Every new port carried with it the hope of finding out where Ember had gone during his quest, and the disappointment when there was no trace of her; but walking through the streets of his hometown without her, the same streets they'd run through as children, was another experience entirely.
If he ever did find her, she'd give him the I-told-you-so of the century. Gentle Song, his siren parent, had been exactly as heedless as she'd said they would be, forgetting Gannet entirely almost as soon as he'd retrieved the pearl they wanted. Ember was right: they hadn't wanted him as a son, but as an errand boy. He wouldn't mind the dressing-down she'd give him, though, if it meant hearing her voice again.
Gannet turned toward the prow of the ship, shaking his head clear of thoughts of home. There was a new adventure ahead of him, in Evershoal and then the Koumazot Islands. It was time to stop dwelling on the past, and turn his mind to the weeks to come.