Through the Breach

Legacy from the deep

Winning tiny tale of Paranormal Prompts - Prompt 53.
[Original limit of characters: 2000.]

Enjoy the reading!

I had been taught not to approach the coast beaten by the waves.

"The Great Wavy Sky is insidious, the Great Wavy Sky is cruel."

And I had never disregarded the village Elders' impositions.
It was said that I have been found, wrapped in seaweeds, on the sandy shore, sheltered by the rocky cave.
Murmurs.
Nobody knew I really came from and now I have grown enough to see the differences that separated me from them and their mistrustful looks no longer hurt me.

I kept my words and I remained on the dank earth; nathless, that swirling, expanse, thundering and vibrant of life, seemed to attract me more and more every day.
It called me.

For years I had watched fishermen set sail on pirogues or dive into the foaming waves, as if sucked into the mysteries of the unknown seabed. The harpoons firmly in the fist.
For years I had seen them come back, each time full of riches stolen from the depths.

But from time to time, the sea claimed its price and then the pirogues withdrew on the long sandy furrows and pyres were lit on the salt shore.

Songs rose powerful towards the night sky, towards the dark sea muttering in the white undertow on which the glimmers of the fires that burned the fragrant timbers were reflected.
Seeking protection, or revenge.
As I watched them, a new perception grew in my chest: the proud complacency for the mightiness of the abysses and for the smallness of those weak and fearful creatures who invoked the Spirits for a power they would never have possessed.
The power to subjugate the vast sea.

And, when the night descended on the world and everything calmed down in the warmth of sleep, and I remained curled up on the straw mat, the call made its way into my consciousness.

In the rustle of the undertow I heard.
Waves told me of ancient times, forgotten wars, unfathomable abysses, and lost knowledge.

And now that I recognize the call, my real nature, my inheritance, while my people emerge from the dark waters and observe the torn bodies of humans lying at my feet, I welcome my heritage.

The price is paid.
Now I can come back home.