(I don't own it, you know I don't, I know I don't, moving on)

Waves of Blue

Mica's name was etched into the grey stone above the waves of blue flowers. She was so far from the real ocean now, Trout observed as he sat picking at the grass before the grave. He clenched his teeth willing the pulling sorrow, the tears that threatened to fall to go away until later where he could deal with them without fear of people watching. It hurt, it really did. He wanted to hit something, to pound something into dust. He wanted to scream into the sky, against the whole world.

"Well screaming won't do you much, will it?" Mica said pleasantly from beside him.

Trout stared up at the apiration who gazed dully, almost board, at the tomb stone as well. "You know, grey is such a dull color. If people are already depressed why not give them something more…uplifting to look at. Like blue, it's sweet and sad but it's sure not grey."

"Your flowers are blue…" Trout mumbled.

"True, just like the ocean." She frowned, "What's the matter?"

Tears were threatening to fall, he shook his head. "I'm day dreaming."

"And you couldn't lighten up a little for me?"

He stared hard at her. "You're dead."

She regarded him for a moment then said, "Yes. And you know, you're keeping together quite well I must say."

Trout stared back down at the flowers, not meeting her gaze. "Well? I'm sitting here talking to a hallucination and wishing that Samis's ship would fall from the sky and crush me. How is that well?!"

Mica didn't even flinch. "You know most people get that way."

"What?"

She stared at the sky, the breeze playing with her hair as if she was really sitting there in the flesh. "You know, I've lost things too. My village was burnt down, I lost my grandmother, I was sold into slavery, trust me I've lost things too. I sometimes sat there in that cell wishing those pirates would just throw me over board already so I could be done with it. And then what my grandmother told me came back to me…"

"Tell me you aren't going to tell the whole story." Trout said.

Mica laughed, "No, I'll give you the gist. When you're sad, be sad. And when you start to feel like the world is killing you and you wish it would just finish the job you stop for a second and think. You don't let the sadness destroy you. You let yourself laugh; you let yourself move on to some other thought. You pray.

Of course it was near impossible to do, being stuck in the cell like I was. Lucky for me Calwyn came along and helped distract me from all of that. Oh, promise me you'll say hi to her for me, 'kay? Anyway you get what I'm saying, don't you Trout?"

He nodded and she smiled. "Good."

He sighed. "I just wish I could…you know. Still see you and talk to you and stuff."

He could feel her incredulous gaze on his shoulders. "What are you talking about, you goose? I'm sitting right next to you."

He looked up and met the gaze of "Mica" etched into the cold grey stone.

"Trout! Trout where are you?" he heard Calwyn calling, "We're leaving soon."

He heard Darrow's voice near by. "Cal, he is probably still at the grave. He still needs a little time…"

Trout stood. "Don't worry everybody, I'm coming." He called.

He bid one last goodbye to the waves of blue and returned to the friends that awaited him.