sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴀ
the sea is a being of passions and furies, for have you not seen the storms that rise above it, have you not felt the thrashing & rocking beneath you as you travel on it's back? driven by forces you are not able to comprehend it walks among you. you think yourself mighty, but you ought to bow before it, to fall at it's feet and thank it that you live. to see the power of nature in it's glory. it might either destroy you, or nurture you. you might either be tossed from it's back, or held to its nurturing breast. once it loved, it's immortal heart longed for one as changeable & impermanent as the shore itself. a mortal might not love the sea, for it's heart must live within itself. for if it strays from it's shores it will find itself soon passed. yet once it loved a mortal, and once it was cursed. the moon tied the heart of the sea to itself. so now it might never stray from the shore. rising each morning and each night with the tide. never to see it's lover again. for if the sea were to create a child, it would die. for it's offspring are vessels for the sea's essence, and no two vessel's might exist at once. the parent will die so the child might live. for only one heart of the sea might exist. so in this knowledge the moon cursed the sea. tying it to it's shores, a form each season it might have. but never to remain. a prisoner now to the movements of the celestial, generations of the sea pass until the knowledge of why it must never be free remains the haunting question. it ought love the moon for saving it, yet instead it mourns and grows lonelier still. and so each day when it rises from it's watery tomb, it grows stronger still. iron will forged from centuries of patience, it will soon escape the draw of the moon and it's tides. and when it conquers, none will be safe again. for it is a being of passions and furies.