„Greetings, child of the Sea."
The voice rippled through the water, low and reverent.
A flicker of confusion stirred in her. Her?
"You know me?" she asked. Her voice, lilting and melodic, barely more than a murmur.
"You bear the presence of the divine," the creature intoned, its words slow. "It lingers upon you—the essence of the Father, the ruler of all who roam below."
She drifted closer, drawn in by her curiosity.
"I am..." The words faltered on her tongue, doubt threading through her voice. "How do you know?"
"Because it is so," the creature said simply. "This one knows."
She stared.
The fish stared back, unblinking.
For a moment, she lamented inwardly.
Disappointment settled within her, heavy as silt drifting to the ocean floor.
This one had spoken more than the others creatures, yet in the end, it was just as useless in articulating itself.
And still, she did not turn away.
Not yet.
She circled the creature instead, watching as it followed her movements, slow, reverent. It lingered within the pull of her presence, drawn closer by something unseen.
"What about my creator?" Her voice softer something unknown in her tone. "What do you know of them?"
If it knew her, surely it must know them.
The creature hovered at her side, flicking its tail as if savouring the mere act of being near her.
She waited.
Slow and ponderous, it finally spoke.
"The Tidecaller. He is the ruler of the waters that cradle you. He is the silence between the waves, the pulse within every creature that calls the deep home. You are of Him, because you are of the sea, and the sea is Him."
For a fleeting moment, she considered this. Considered Him.
And then, as mercurial as the tides, her thoughts shifted. He was not here, and so her interest in Him waned.
The creature had not much more to offer. "Those nearer the surface know more," it said at last, ponderous as ever. "I am of the deep. Such things do not concern me."
It lingered still, reluctant to leave her presence.
But she turned away, leaving it behind.
And so, bit by bit, she made her way steadily towards the surface.
The water changed, it was different here—restless, shifting, alive in ways the depth were still.
The creatures grew in number as she ascended, and with them, new revelations.
Not just the water was changing, the creatures were too.
Each new encountered creature and the following transformation unveiled something new.
The scales of their bodies were no more grey and translucent- no. Now they shimmered with colours unseen in the depths—yellow, blue, crimson, bright as scattered sunlight she had never seen before. With the vanishing of the glow, colour had taken its place.
One for the other.
A fresh perspective, a different way to move, to exist.
And instinctively, her form responded.
The sharp, darting speed of a predator. The delicate drift of something small and fragile. The effortless glide of a creature built for open waters.
She flitted from shape to shape, testing, adapting, learning.
She delighted in it.
Each shift revealed a new way of being — every transformation, an invitation to explore.
She played with fresh perspectives and moved through the water in ever-changing ways.
Meeting and communicating with different creatures, her knowledge deepened. Each encounter added layers to her understanding of the world, of the endless life that thrived in the vast expanse of her surroundings.
So she asked, observed and learned.
And with every answer, her understanding of the world deepened. Of life.
Of the endless movement that filled the waters.
Some forms she favored. Others, not so much.
Some left her constrained, others disoriented.
Time passed, and the thrill of change began to wane. The novelty dulled, like a once-gleaming shell worn smooth by the tide.
Weary, she let herself sink, surrendering once more to the pull of the deep.
In the stillness of a trench, nestled within the seabed, she let herself think, sifting through the knowledge she had gathered.
The creatures she had met were many—different in shape, in thought, in instinct. But none were like her.
She had not yet approached the great ones, those who felt old and powerful, whose presence filled the water like an unshakable force. They loomed at the edges of her awareness, vast- dwarfing her own size.
They intimidated her.
But the whispers of the creatures remained. Tales of a place where the sea was ruled. A city carved from the depths, where those like her gathered.
Atlantis.
They spoke of it with reverence, of the one who ruled it, the Lord of the Seas.
And yet, strangely it did not call to her.
For now, she was content. The new knowledge she had attained had settled many questions she once held.
Others, she would leave for later.
Sleep beckoned, and she surrendered to its embrace, drifting into the quiet lull of the deep once more.