It was a somber mermanta who swam slowly towards the shrine. He took his time cleaning away weed and sand, settling his mind to calm clarity as he put the underwater altar into order once more, even though the tides and life of the deeps would reclaim it soon enough when he had gone again.
When he was ready he set the offering down: a long knife carefully chipped and smoothed from snowflake obsidian. Flawless and deadly. Fragile, but brutal because of it. The steel handle and spine of the blade were steel rubbed in wax to keep the water from damaging it, and the hilt was wrapped in silver cord.
Next to himself he planted his own trident in the sandy seafloor, its steel similarly treated against the ravages of salt water. Then he bowed his head and prayed.
When he was ready he set the offering down: a long knife carefully chipped and smoothed from snowflake obsidian. Flawless and deadly. Fragile, but brutal because of it. The steel handle and spine of the blade were steel rubbed in wax to keep the water from damaging it, and the hilt was wrapped in silver cord.
Next to himself he planted his own trident in the sandy seafloor, its steel similarly treated against the ravages of salt water. Then he bowed his head and prayed.
