Elsewhere, on a private white beach, the comely, nude forms of twin zabrack girls entwined, white and scarlet hair mingled on the white sand, as blue water rose to brush their toes, awakening them along with the light of Shanadoah Prime's brilliant white fire painted azure by shining through the very core of Shanandoah Seven. The ocean glowed, and the beach sand shot through with saphire flame. Way out over the oceans, creatures rose from the deep to sing.
* * *
Simwan road the jeweled waves in to the saphinre sands where a group of old people had gathered at the beach to look out in awe, listening to the songs. It happened every few months, but some folks grew superstitious with age. Or, just maybe, gained special insight.
"Somethings changing, dude," an old surfer said. "The deep folks, their a warnin' us. Their song, they say, the azure dawns are numbered."
