The children, of varying age, and their lead teacher lay on the floor in a circle, heads oriented toward the center. Toller was laying between his fast friends, royal brothers Cristobal and Carlo. In the middle, three Aquarii sat. The adult was the soft-mannered, and elegant, pioneering artist Bright Wave; she was accompanied by two younglings, their manes of head tendrils still short, carapaces and tentacles a shade off from Bright Wave’s periwinkle. They sat in the Aquariid kneeling crouch, backs to each other and facing out. They were improvising a display of the sensations of a Sending, for the small class.
Aurora colors crossed their vision in misty swatches, while untranslated Aquari music whooshed through like a constant breeze. Stars and leaves shifted into and out of sight. It was innately awe-inspiring, soothing with an adventurous undertone. The class breathed deeply, as they’d been guided, emitting exclamations of wonder like, “Wow,” and “whoah.”
Bright Wave had regained her vocalization to a great extent, since being hurt in the grove fires, but she still wasn’t up for grand workings. Like most Aquarii, the resounding absence of their Symbias family made them all unable to function at fullest extent. They had no idea how the young of this generation would mature, and that suffused them with listlessness. Still, Bright Wave welcomed the request for a single, short concert to a small group of children which included the youngest royalty.
She had decided to bring two of her family tribe’s children for backup accompaniment – in case she tired or faltered – and because they could add the relatable energy of youth. Springing Stalk and Deep Lake were strong harmonizers. Eventually, they let their projection fade from the space above the upturned faces, with just a few sparkling twinkles for a goodbye signature.