Sailor Tempesti’s decision to at least try to complete Sotiria’s unfinished construct had raised more than a little bit of excitement in the young senshi, even if she still needed to find a Mauvian to help her with the project. The Wellspring Guardian had the top of the Primordial Tower pretty well covered, but as she considered the possibilities of this smaller machine it became impossible to dismiss the notion of introducing it to the Tower of the Winds. For all of its fortifications, for all the ancient mechanisms built into its stone to contain her predecessors, the absence of its guardians left a noticeable gap in its security. It would never be a prison again, of that she was certain, but if she truly intended to shape a haven from this blood soaked island she could not leave that refuge unprotected.

That was, of course, getting well ahead of herself. The construct lay untouched in the workshop as it had for countless centuries and Tempesti had no desire to interfere with it until she could be truly certain exactly if and how they might be able to get the thing working. It would be convenient if she could take a peek inside the Wellspring Guardian to get a better idea of the inner workings, a sense of what her imperfect grasp on the nuances of the language left out, but the absurdity of even considering that kept her curious hands at bay.

For now, however, the best option to redirect her excitement was to assess the Tower itself and figure out the places the construct might be able to live. Well, reside. As she crossed the bay on the crystal ferry she smiled slightly, reminding herself of the fact that sometimes inaction in one area was the best course of action. No matter how much she wished she could get to work on something right now.

A sharp, sudden glint of light pulled the senshi from her musings as vaguely familiar shapes leapt from the water alongside the ferry’s hull. Beautiful, almost translucent fish crested the waves, their scales gleaming iridescent in the sunlight. Despite its beauty, the rainbow sheen was not the most remarkable aspect of the animals. Wings grew from the shining sides of the fish, or some membranous appendage between a wing or a fin that flapped to keep them aloft before their return sliced the bay’s water. She’d seen photos of flying fish on Earth but they didn’t look like this, nor did the likenesses she’d seen in her homeworld’s mosaics quite compare to the reality before her. She leaned forward, peering into the water below in the hopes of catching a glimpse of whatever might be driving this school to breach the surface, but only sparkling blue met her gaze. If there was a predator in pursuit, they evaded her gaze and she couldn’t help but speculate on what else waited below the waves, the countless lives she would never witness.

As the island’s dock drew nearer the fish changed course, no doubt less than eager to make contact with the rocky shallows. She watched even after they vanished into the distance, luxuriating in a wonder she knew would never fade.