The boy stood silently at the end of the dock as the two men fastened a wide leather belt around his waist. The leather was cold against his bare skin, and that, together with the wind coming in off the harbor, raised goose bumps all over his body. He shivered, and the younger of the two men laughed softly. The older man frowned and shook his head at the irreverence.
The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was growing brighter with the approach of dawn. A small crowd of people had gathered on the shore to watch the ritual. All were adults; children were not permitted to attend. The boy’s mother was at the front of the crowd, trying to keep her nervousness from showing on her face.
The older man turned the boy so he was facing out to sea. The choppy water looked gray in the morning light. A sea bird glided by above, its harsh calls in stark contrast to the silence of group below. Beside the boy sat a large stone with a black iron ring protruding from the top. The younger man fastened a chain from the ring in the stone to the belt around the boy’s waist. Then, for a little while, all was still. At the last moment before sunrise, the older man nodded to the younger man and placed his hand on the boy’s back. The younger man picked up the large stone, straining under the weight, and raised it above his head with both hands. As the sun’s first golden beams spilled over the horizon, the crowd on the shore and the men on the dock shouted in unison, and the boy and the stone were cast into the water.
Telwyn watched as Tam, his younger brother, sank out of sight. The weight of the stone and chain dragged him swiftly downward. Telwyn had forged every link of that chain during the six months since Tam had declared his intention to go through with the ritual. On the dock behind Telwyn, their father was hurriedly pulling a basket up from where it had been tied, hidden from Tam’s view. Inside was a diving belt, like the one Tam was wearing, and a long sturdy rope. After donning the belt and securing the rope to it, he rejoined Telwyn at the end of the dock, peering down into the water. He was counting softly, glancing up at the sun, then back down at the water. Diving too soon could be disastrous.
Reaching the end of his countdown, he thrust the free end of the rope into Telwyn’s hand and dove into the water. Telwyn glanced at his mother. She had walked forward until the waves were lapping around her knees. Her fists were clenched, her eyes fixed on the spot where Tam had gone down.
Telwyn took care that the rope uncoiled smoothly as his father descended. He was deep enough now that Telwyn could hardly see him.
With every moment Telwyn’s nervousness increased. It shouldn’t take this long should it? Had something happened? The rope stopped feeding into the water. He hadn’t felt the two sharp tugs that would signal him to start reeling the rope in. Had he missed them? He gripped the rope tightly, frozen in indecision. He would wait a few more seconds then he would start pulling … but if it wasn’t time yet, if he pulled too soon … Suddenly, finally, the signal came, and Telwyn began hauling the rope in hand over hand as fast as he could. He felt immediately that there was no longer anything attached to the other end. That could mean only one thing. Relief filled him and a wide smile spread over Telwyn’s face.
Even pulling in the rope as fast as he could, Telwyn still had several lengths to go when two figures came into view rising fast toward the surface. They exploded out of the water with a triumphant shout, echoed back by the crowd on the shore.
Tam swam to the edge of the dock and Telwyn reached down to haul him up. Although he had been expecting it, Telwyn was still struck by the change in his brother. His skin had taken on a faint blue color. His neck was split on each side by gills which, now that they were above the water, closed tightly, leaving only thin lines in the skin to mark their existence. As Tam climbed onto the dock, several new-grown fins folded tightly against his skin, becoming little more than ridges of a slightly darker blue. Like their father, he had chosen water.