“Do you think they will ever come back?” Her voice trilled, resonating like dancing metal shards jangling in the breeze.
“I think so.” The other’s cadence was more measured and cleaner, yet neither female nor male.
“How long has it been now?” She asked.
“For who?” It was almost a statement with barely an inflection.
The water lapped quietly over the silver sand on the shore while the whiteness of the sky rolled diamonds of light across the wave tips.
“Silly! For them,” she giggled.
A quiet, haunting melody mixed with flutes ebbed and flowed continuously.
“The Bearers or the Carriers?”
“Oh. Right. The Bearers.”
A zephyr passed and a few grains of sand fizzled in its wake. Time seemed to stand still.
“Ten millennia,” came the reply.
“Do you think they will ever come back?” Her voice was despondent. “Why did they have to leave?” Dejected.
“The Bearers normally return in the blink of an eye. Something must have gone wrong with the Carriers and they need to fix it.”
“They’ve gone away before?” The sand hissed as ripples receded.
“Many times, little one, but before you.”
“The firmament isn’t what it used to be, angel. Work needs to be done.”
“Is it the Anxious? Are they causing the problem?”
“No. It’s a Defalcator. But don’t worry, angel, it’s not the first one the Bearers have had to deal with. I’m sure they will be back soon,” the voice comforted.
“OK, Progenitor. If you’re certain.” She wasn’t convinced. “Can I be the pineapple now? Sand is boring.”
“OK, little one, but don’t cause any ripples. You remember what happened last time?”
The waves harmonised with the omnipresent melody.
“The Bearers,” the voice prompted.
“Y’know, sand is just fine,” she acquiesced.