Submission (#6271) Approved

The first light of dawn broke through the horizon and painted the sky in hues of pink and gold as Casimiro and the small group of determined elnin they had recruited for this trip prepared to set sail.  Their boats, weathered and scarred vessels with countless journeys under their hulls, bobbed in the restless waters.  The faces that dashed to and fro as they prepared the boats were frowning and focused—words exchanged were few.

“Wind’s good, hopefully that means we’ll be quick,” Kawa muttered at his side, eyes cast towards the distant waves.

“We’ll uncover something,” Casimiro grunted, “whether it be good or bad, doubt we’ll come back until we find something.”

Kawa opened his mouth, closed it, and then shook his head.  There was something glittering in his eyes that Casimiro couldn’t quite pierce—doubt?  Fear?  Or simply wariness?  Either way, the elnin had agreed to be in this expedition, however ill-fortuned.  Casimiro couldn’t help but think that should have been enough to show the elnin’s determination.

With a final tug of the rope, the bellows started as orders were exchanged, and the elnin soon cast off.  The vessels cut through the tainted waves, and for once, the voices that began this journey into the depths of the sea were not boisterous with excitement of the day to come, but hushed, even whispered.  Casimiro heard more than one mention of a curse, of daeva, of rumors and stories of what had happened to such settlements before, either here in Palu’Au or the lands distant to their shores.  It was enough to make Casimiro wish that the captains would hush the uneasy hisses.  Such words could bring naught but fear amongst the already fearful crews.

But days turned into nights as the elnin sailed beyond the familiar fishing waters and into the more distant open sea they rarely ventured.  Here, the navigators showed their mettle by guiding the boats through the waters, following a trail of underwater currents that eventually convalesced at their island’s shore in an attempt to follow the likely source of the disturbance.  Despite the time whittled by, the open seas seemed to calm many of the crew—the water here, or whatever had tainted it, did not seem as concentrated here.  The changing appearance alone seemed to do wonders for their spirit, though any attempt to fish, even casually, largely resulted in failure.

It wasn’t until one moonlit night, as the boats sailed through a dense mist that clung low to the water like a shroud, earning concerned murmurs from the elnin awake, that they spotted the first sure signs of their woes.

The sea around them seemed to warp and shimmer, trails of black, shimmering like oil upon the waves, slicked through the waters and clung upon the wood of the boats, almost like seaweed.  Casimiro turned an alarmed gaze to the elnin next to him, and while no word was exchanged, the gravity in that stare made Casimiro dart below to wake the captain.

No sooner had the kittom emerged from below the decks, captain in tow, that they heard the gasps of the elnin still working on board.

The sea around them, wide open sea with no land in sight, stopped at an enormous sheer cliff of oily black that seemed to even halt the light of the moon from filtering through.  The wall before them was beyond unnatural—it cast an iridescent sheen before it, and a disconcerting purple hue, like traceries of rotting veins, ran along its surface.  It was also too straight, too perfect, to ever have been natural.  It rose, imposing, like a man-made wall, when none could possibly exist.  And while the mist obscured just how high or how wide it extended, it was clear from what they could see that it could only be surmised as being enormous.

Suddenly fearless, Casimiro threw himself at the front, peering over the edge of the boat as if the slight change in angle would provide him with a new understanding of the behemoth that lay before them. 

“What the hell is this?” his voice was low, hushed, and awed.  As if the thing’s attention would be drawn by a mere whisper.

There could be no answer.  As the boats cautiously approached, the barrier seemed to almost respond to their presence, undulating like a living entity.  It was only then that the crew reacted, and the captain’s voice echoed through the wind as the other accompanying boats were alerted, as the crews readied to retract the sails to give them time to figure out what to do before they approached too close to the ominous structure.

It wasn’t long before more of the crew rose, and soon the whispered of a curse, of a daeva, or the myth of an underwater sea creature that could swallow islands whole, began to rise.  Those busy signaling other ships, transporting messages back and forth utilizing the small rowing boats aboard each vessel, too frantic to even share news amongst the crew before they darted past to meet the captains.  It was messages of the possibility of the captains meeting in one boat to discuss further how they should proceed, that a warning yell broke out amongst the crew.

Casimiro rushed to the railing, peering over the edge to see where the elnin pointed, and it wasn’t long before he spotted it.  His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open, and another yell of alarm pierced the night as an enormous shadow, as large as any whale, darker than could be possible given the time of night, the wavering moonlight, swam below the ships.  A creature so incomprehensible that it sent the entire crew into frantic hollers for what should be impossible.