Neptune's Call

On the back of an infant world, the things of the deep stirred first. We came later: a whisper that grew to shrieking as the water watched us with myriad eyes. Curious, then disbelieving. Repulsed, then soured by envy. The nagging lure of surface-dwellers poked and prodded and invaded every corner of the deepest abyss. They could take it no longer—they emerged—shedding scale and fin and gill. Ocean gods traded crown for mortal flesh; trident for the tools of the land. And with heavy feet and ragged breaths, they came to don humanity’s clumsy mantle. Our pleasures were theirs. Our victories and discoveries and sorcery. Our hubris.

The sea’s all-father, Neptune, wept and dashed the world’s shore with grief’s bitter waves. His children had forsaken him.

At first, they were radiant—feeding elegance and transcendent things into the machine of our combined consciousness. Guides. Muses. The alluring glow beneath a closed door’s gap. For a while, it was good. For a while.

Time ground stone into sand and the creatures of the deep forgot what they were. Wandering the surface of the world, they lived at odds with the land-striders, yet knew not why. We were entitled to them now. We drained them of all they had to give—converting their gold to scrap with perverted alchemy. Displaced and disillusioned, some turned to despair, many turned to vice—others fell by their own hand. All lamented.

Corruption. Toxification. It leeched from on high, winding through sickened arteries into the belly of the Earth. Neptune fought every impulse—he was deaf to the cries of the leavers. Their panicked, stricken plea combined into agony’s chorus until he could take it no more. Neptune called. He called and every atom in their dried out human husks replied.

Water sought its own level.

They marched from the interior to the ocean’s edge—an army of lost offspring returning home at once. Now it was our turn to watch. We witnessed the disseverance of grace—the snuffing of the candle. As they walked into the waves and disappeared out of sight, we knew we were lost. Our gods had left when we needed them most, but deserved them least.