Water reigns supreme. Learn to swim or die.
The winged ones have vanished, unable to rest their bodies on solid ground. The walkers learned to swim first, then they built platforms with what came to the surface from the depths, from the lost kingdom.
The swimmers reign supreme.
During the day the sun shines, during the night the storm rages. The water level never stops rising, and the sun’s heat is not enough to evaporate it. With each passing day we move further and further away from the seabed, from our Mother, from our origin, and we are approaching the kingdom of heaven, the city of the Gods. Our fathers taught us that reaching their city would enrage them, and that they would unleash their fury upon all living beings. We can’t let this happen. We must reach the bottom, in the hope of finding something that can help us, a gift from our roots.
We built an armor. A metal casing impenetrable by water, pressure and any monster that may be down there. We designed it in such a way that it could reach the bottom using only its weight. The helm is a glass sphere with two tubes attached, one for air and one for nourishment. The limbs are armed with poisoned spikes to protect the diver from danger. Due to the pressure the diver will not be able to make decisive blows, but the high toxicity of the poison should be enough. After launching, the diver will travel 1000 cubits and then stop. At each pause, the armor will stabilize from the pressure, and on the surface the others will extend the tubes to allow further descent. We don't know how deep the waters are, we just have to hope we have enough materials to build infinitely long tubes.
I volunteered as the diver. I said goodbye to my crying parents, was blessed by the shaman and entered the armor. I felt my hearing fading more and more, as I felt the faint flame slowly welding me inside my metal prison, until at a certain point I was abandoned in the oblivion of silence.
Another ceremony. They put a necklace of flowers around my neck, the children filled my armor with drawings and colorful writings, and the shaman recited more prayers. I could see the people around me dancing, singing, playing, laughing and crying, but I was unable to hear anything. To this day I wonder if my inability to hear their blessings affected my journey.
When the sun reached its zenith, I dived.
I began to sink, letting my weight do all the work, and shortly after I reached my speed limit. As time passed the crystal clear waters around me grew darker, until I was left in complete darkness.
Darkness and silence, this is what I perceived for most of my pilgrimage.
After a few hours of descending, I stopped suddenly. I remained still for some time, then continued my descent. Everything as expected. The thing I was most amazed by was the total absence of life forms around me. After a certain point I stopped seeing fishes, or any other being.
Thus the days, the weeks passed, in the darkness, in the silence, in the cold.
The only thing that allowed me to keep the passage of time were the constant pauses, in which my descent was interrupted and the slop arrived to nourish me.
The silence tormented me and drove me crazy, my ears were ringing and my head wouldn't stop thinking, I was incapable of keeping it quiet.
I was afraid, of many things. I was afraid that the undertaking would have been useless, that I would have never been able to reach the bottom, or worse, that a bottom never existed. An eternal life condemned to fall lower and lower, surrounded by darkness, silence and the screams in my head. I’m cold.
Suddenly, something hit me, something big. I was almost happy. It was the first time in weeks that I had seen another living being. I don’t know how to best describe it, but it was sinuous, with enormous jaws, and the sharpest teeth I've ever seen. After hitting me, it tangled around my body. The armor was barely holding on, and I could feel the power of his grip. Its mouth opened wide, it seemed controlled by four separate mandibles, it planted itself against the glass of the helmet and tried to devour my head. I could barely move, but as the beast was readjusting its powerful grip, it managed to free one arm, pull out the blade, and scratch the monster.
I heard its muffled screams of pain, it immediately released its grip on my body and my head, and then fled away. It immediately started spraying water everywhere in my helmet. The bastard had severed one of the tubes with his teeth. With much difficulty, I closed the valve. I was completely wet and my armor was full of water up to my hips, but at least I was alive. I was still breathing, so I could continue my journey, but no more food. Sometimes I wonder if I would have preferred to be devoured.
It's been a long time since I stopped sinking. I don't know why they aren't lowering me down anymore. I am afraid. I am hungry. I am cold.
Time doesn't exist. It’s an invention of our race. We try to measure it using concepts created by our minds, but we have no way of knowing its size, proportions, density, propagation, orientation, or direction. In the absence of reference points, time does not exist. In this box, in the dark, still, I have no way to generate this construct in my head. From the moment I dived, months, years, or maybe just a few days, a few hours, a few seconds could have passed. The more I live without points of reference, the more I begin to doubt my very existence.
Suddenly, my salvation was revealed. From the valve that I closed after the fight with the monster, small droplets of water began to drip very slowly but rhythmically.
I stopped counting. Those damned droplets have brought me back some sanity, but they will soon be my downfall. Now the water reaches my chin. Those little droplets, which have brought me so much comfort, are about to drown me. Their rhythmic ticking has now become just background noise, an hourglass for the end of the universe. Points of reference lose their meaning when you stop looking at them. My mind starts wandering again. Was it really all for nothing? Will I ever reach the bottom? Is there even a bottom?? Why did I volunteer? I was selfish. Selfish, arrogant and narcissistic. I only dived because I felt it would have been the most correct thing to do, not because I truly believed it, not because I was ever religious, in fact, now I blasphemously scream the names of the gods, who created the world, the storms, life and consequently me. I curse the gods for not giving me the good sense not to dive. I volunteered because I thought my name would have been praised until the end of time, I was convinced I could have become someone.
I think of my father and my mother, of the people I loved. What are they thinking of me now? Do they still exist, or have I lived longer than any other being on this earth?
I think about my virtues and my vices. They got me nowhere. They have no meaning in these depths.
I think about everything I have accomplished and what I will never be able to finish. All wasted effort, everything I decided to do still landed me in this prison.
My father, my mother, my loved ones, my virtues, my vices, my actions. They do not exist anymore. Now I am no longer certain of their reality, and I feel them slipping away from my memory.
There is nothing else but me, the prison, and the water.
I feel like I have gills on my neck, it's like I could breathe.
I see an eye. Beyond the glass. It's a huge, gigantic eye that observes me carefully. I am unable to move. The being gently wraps its immense hand around me. A sweet embrace. I have never felt such comforting warmth in my entire life.
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