Kaia's Unravelled Tale

The water was warm, and I drifted in the current with my eyes closed. It felt like floating on a cloud. A beautiful, clear blue cloud.

“Kaia.”

I sat up too quickly, and water sloshed over the side of my bathing pool. Grumbling, I pushed the hair out of my face, and stood. “What do you want?” I asked the voice.

The voice answered from just behind me. “You didn't answer when I called your name.”

I turned around to see Whai standing there with his mottled brown and beige robes hanging loosely about his hunched frame, an expression of perpetual disapproval etched into the grey lines of his face. He had been by my side since the day Mother died, but he always seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere else.

“Mother told me to never answer when you called my name,” I told him firmly as he moved closer. “She said that it was bad luck to answer when someone calls your name before you have seen them, so I don't answer you any more than I answer anyone else who calls my name before they've seen me.”

Whai nodded thoughtfully while stroking his pointed beard, an action that made him look even more like a very old tortoise than normal. “Ah yes, that's why you don't answer me when I call for you when we're both at home. But what about when we're out walking in the woods and you hear me call for you? Why then?”

I shrugged. “That doesn't count because we're out walking in the woods together anyway, so it's not really as if you've called for me before you've seen me, is it? So it's not breaking the rule if I answer then.”

Whai nodded again, and looked down at his feet while he considered this line of reasoning. Then he sighed heavily and looked back up at me. “Do you ever tell lies?” he asked solemnly.