I would like to show you something, first, he had rumbled to his friend, peace in his thoughts as they had begun their swim into the ocean on a long-delayed hunt. Hadama flowed gracefully through the water in his mer-form, the manta wings spreading from his back and shoulders cloaked in a mirror of the night sky. The ring on his finger trailed starlight through the water around him, showing the area of safety for air breathers around the King, though for today he had provided Noah with a manta crystal for their venture.
There is only one shrine beneath the waves. It serves all the Old Gods. I often pray to Safrin there. Even before he had become a demigod and his legs allowed him access to the many shrines of Caido.
He lead the way deeper into the Arclight and down, down until the sweltering sun above was lost to them and only a dim light filtered down into the depths. The starlight of his ring and trident became more visible in the growing dark even as the pressure grew around them, squeezing god-touched ribs but unable to crush the two demigods.
A few large shapes slid through the darkness at the edge of their vision, revealing a long expanse of sinuous scales or the edge of a vast fin before disappearing back into the gloom, but in time the ocean floor came into sight, and the ancient shrine upon it, weathered by sand and current but still standing strong against the centuries.
Noah followed Hadama without hesitation, the manta crystal pulsing gently against his chest. The cold deep pressed in around him, but he moved with calm purpose, his strokes deliberate, conserving energy. The weight of the sea wasn’t unfamiliar—it reminded him of long hunts, of bearing down through snow or fog with no path but the one forward. But the darkness was unsettling.
He glanced at Hadama ahead, framed by drifting starlight, the finned silhouette cutting through the dark. The ring’s shimmer traced safety in the water, but Noah stayed close regardless. The shrine’s shape rose slowly from the murk, quiet and solid. A place that had endured. His breath caught in his chest—not from lack of air, but from the reverence it stirred. Not just for Vi, or even the Old Gods, but for what it meant that Hadama had brought him here. A gesture of trust.
Thank you,, he said across the bond, then he pressed forward, toward the shrine. Despite the creatures that lurked in the darkness, Noah trusted his friend completely to watch his back and stand at guard as Noah made his prayer. the forsaken
Few surface dwellers had ever seen the sea shrine. Attuned or demigods with aquatic shifts were the only ones Hadama knew of for certain, though the shrine was as open to them as it was to the Mer. Still, Noah's gratitude and his understanding were both welcome, and Hadama inclined his head at his friend. Words were not always needed between them, and it was times like this that made the Tidebreaker feel closest to his fellow demigod of life.
Nothing would interrupt the Halovian's prayers while Hadama swam guard, cutting a slow, unobtrusive perimeter through the water a short distance from the altar stone. Near enough to remain in view, but far enough away to grant Noah privacy for his communion with the gods. He was, as ever, patient and unhurried and willing to give his friend as much time as was desired for divine contemplation. They had no looming deadlines today; only the passing sun far above and those who awaited their eventual return, both on shore and in the sea.
The shrine rose from the seafloor like a forgotten relic of some ancient pact, its stone walls worn smooth by time and tide. Constructed from rounded, sea-weathered stones, the structure bore a quiet strength—each block fitted snugly as if held together more by intention than mortar. Even with the way Noah knew water aged and ate and whittled away at things, the shrine was still awe-inspiring and breathtaking. He moved in and braced himself to stay in place so that he could pray using the arch of one doorway.
After his prayer, Noah lingered by the shrine, letting the hush of the deep settle into his bones. He couldn't hear anything but the way the moving water wrapped around him. When he finally pulled away, he moved carefully, respectful of the space. He didn’t rush, letting the current guide his return. His eyes found Hadama moving along the perimeter with deliberate grace.
He fell in beside him, swimming in easy rhythm. The cold no longer bit so sharply; the dark felt less vast. They didn’t need words. The bond between them carried a shared sense of peace, a quiet understanding that this moment—this calm—was worth holding onto. There was no urgency here. Above them, the sun continued its arc, but down here, there was only quiet motion. The Forsaken nodded to the Tidebreaker. the forsaken
bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones, bones.
You've encountered the OG random event! This allows you to skip one levelling requirement with the character in this thread. (Unfortunately does not count for characters over level 10, how sad.)
It might have been a few minutes or it might have been an hour that passed while Noah prayed within the shrine. The dim and shifting light far, far above gave no clue and Hadama continued his slow, deliberate patrol of the perimeter with unhurried sweeps of his tail as he slipped between shadow and current. He moved as easily through the water as the Sentinel moved over the snow, and the darkness held no fear for him; only calm alertness and the caution of one who had survived through a lifetime of respecting the sea and its dangers.
But whether it was the protection of the shrine, the presence of a Mer, or the combined power of two demigods, nothing emerged from the deeper shadows to trouble them. Hadama's patrol was uneventful, and when Noah joined him once more the Mer King offered his friend a deep inclination of his head for the reverence that Vi's demigod had shown the ancient altar.
Nothing was said, nor did it need to be. The peace of the shrine lingered between them, a gentle balm to their thoughts as they moved with matching grace back into the deepwater currents, Hadama leading them back towards shallower seas, where light filtered down more brightly and the coral and fish grew more prominent and more colorful once more. In time, they would begin their hunt. But not until the harmony of their prayers had faded and they were ready to turn from the sacred duties of demigods to the secular practicalities of men and mortals once more.
~Fin
|
