UnEarth Magazine.

Words by Caveny Mantzaris, Art by Isabella Karmis

Dark, velvet undulations reshape the horizon. A wild force, dense with mystery. No mere mortal may harness the power of the ocean. At any moment, her silky ripples may shift into an icy unknown, churning with unbounded might. She answers only to her untamed temper.

Humans are cursed with curiosity. They see the ocean’s gentle brushstrokes on the shore and mistake them for mercy. Determined to reveal the ocean’s secrets, they sever her waves with ships of oak. She watches as they comb her surface and fill their hearts with fleeting joy.

The men cast wiry tangles across the glassy deep, snaring the ocean’s treasures. The ocean allows this robbery, for she is a stern yet generous body, and the circle of life must whirl with the currents. Wrenched from her grasp, wriggling fish sweat the life from their lungs in the heat of the world above. The men pant over these gems: glistening creatures in dull, wooden baskets. Soon the creatures’ eyes become wooden too — unmoving and lifeless. 

Time passes, and the men grow greedy. They chase the jewels: more to eat, more to sell, more to steal, more to trade, more to make more wealth. The humans’ hauls multiply. Their spears become sharper; their nets become larger. They craft cruel traps to take more than they can use. The ocean’s wrath bubbles over. Her tolerance for the men only stretches so far.

Soft currents pull the sailors towards the horizon as the ocean sings a lullaby, lulling the men to sleep, “Shhhhh.”  The whisper of promised death. The ocean strikes. She gnashes her teeth, bellowing with rage. Skeletons fly wingless through her waves of shimmering locks.

Stillness.

Though humans are weak, they are bold. They run into the arms of their destruction time after time, determined to conquer the ocean’s spirit with their rusting metal machines. The ocean greets their efforts with assured sovereignty. She crushes their tools with her heavy fists and washes away the burdensome beasts.

They always return to her. Century after century, they bring their oiled ships. The smoke from them darkens and slithers into the ocean’s lungs. She is poisoned. The color is seeping from her treasures; the light within her is fading. Crinkling chips of plastic swim through her veins, choking and strangling her core. For the first time, she is the one drowning.

Humans have the power now. They, too, are suffering from the ocean’s plague, and they have a choice to make before time runs out. To restore their treasures and sustain their souls, the humans must heal the ocean. She can be cured through gentle care and the charity of time. The humans must take her fragile form into their hands and breathe life back into her suffocating heart. They must not neglect her rising tears.