Tuesday, October 30, 2012

From the Water


  I crawled from the water. Born of the raging sea, I was spit out from the depths of the darkest abyss. I rode the great curling waves of my mother’s design to the shore of the huddled masses. They crowded together in fear of what they did not understand and what they could not control, little did they know that control and knowledge is all a fanciful creation devised to help them cope with the enormity and magnificence of the Gods.

  For a millennium I incubated in the tremendous pressure of my mother’s unfathomable womb, until I cried out and demanded my freedom. At first I was refused; she said I wasn’t ready. But I would not be dissuaded and I began my ascent to the human world without her blessing.

One after another, she sent her henchmen to thwart my attempt and drag me back to the realm of her influence.

  First, it was the monsters of the void that dangled crystalline lights of splendid distraction; their glow so sublime my voyage became nothing but a forgotten dream. After a decade in a trance of ecstasy, I remembered myself and resumed my expedition.     

  Furious, she sent the ancient one; a great behemoth of teeth and fury who had watched in horror as his brothers left the sea and abandoned their fins for claws and fur. He fought bravely with honor and loyalty. He vowed that he would never again allow his kin to leave the place of perpetual darkness and everlasting life. He was bested, unable to contain the power of my curiosity. He nodded his great prehistoric head and bowed to my strength. I sent him back to my mother with a message of commitment and dedication.

  Next, she sent a demon invisible to all but her. He did not attack with fangs or poison. Brute strength was not his forte. Instead, he brought the vicious message from my great mother that she would wake Poseidon, himself, if I did not obey. Indeed the threat gave me pause, but I pushed forward and prepared to meet my end.

  She did not rouse the Nautilus King. I had called her bluff. Even the grand mistress of the moon doth not dare disturb the Great One’s slumber. I glided forward, ever upward, carried by my powerful strokes of fin and determination.

  Sensing my eminent success, out of sheer desperation, she sent the kraken to reason with me. His muscular tentacles dominated the epic battle that wore on for a century. His cunning matched my every move and I thought for certain he would be the victor. Never before had I faced a foe so fierce and so clever. I grew envious of his abilities and wanted them for my own self-serving desires. As my jealousy matured and developed, I gained sight of the aura of his prowess. As I continued to brawl and tangle with the ancient beast, I began to devour the gleam that surrounded his every move. It filled me and became my own until at last he was nothing more than an empty husk of his former self.

  Invigorated by my newly obtained power, I roared at my mother and challenged her to send her fastest and strongest soldiers; to them, I would do the same as I had the others. For a year I floated silently and waited for the Goddess’s answer. When at last it came, it was from a small unassuming surface dweller. The message was simple. It is time for you to meet your father, my son.

  After centuries of fighting against them, my mother’s currents carried me swiftly to the surface where my head emerged to draw in the salty breath of my father. He welcomed me with winds of heroic proportions. My mother’s surge and my father’s gusts married and created foam and spray; together they paid tribute to my coming of age. Their union spawned a sibling, though short lived she would be, to guide me to my ambition.

  My young sister pushed forth and drove me up onto rocky shore. Suddenly, I was filled with doubt and called into question my judgment, crying out that I had been wrong. The immense goddess I called mother had been right, I was not ready. My sister pummeled the shoreline with the winds of our father and the rains of our mother. She roared that she had not been born only to die. She had been created and formed with a purpose, to deliver me unto a world without fins and gills. Her wrath was intoxicating and soon had me convinced.

  I dragged myself out of the water, weak limbed and awkward as a larval creature controlled only by miniscule flagella and the dominance of the tide. At last I stood on my feet and was able to grasp the truth. My dying sister’s rampage echoed my sentiments. I had crawled from the water. It was not I who was not ready, but humanity. 


Copyright © 2012 by Leigh Fischer
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission of the publisher.
Edition: October 2012