Full fathom five thy heiress lies;
Of her bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were her eyes:
Nothing of her that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring her knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them—Ding-dong, bell.
here’s the piece i did for @feferizine! thank you very much to the mod team for having me and giving the fish princess some love, go look at it. go
When time first began to unravel its cord, there was only the sea. She knew everything, and everything knew her; all in her dominion bent the knee in accord with her rise and fall.
—what?
Yeah, I know it’s corny, but that’s how they wrote it, okay? So just...just listen.
The sea’s first daughter hatched long before anything crawled ashore. She listened to the cresting of waves above her, and the shifting of the sands beneath. She wove jewelry out of kelp strands and coral, and sang to her mother. And this pleased the sea greatly, and she bestowed long life upon her child.
Before long, creatures began to fill the oceans, first small, then greater and greater, until the child fancied they would eclipse the very stars. They bled the same blood, and sang the same songs, and for a time all was calm at sea.
But the sea is ever-changing, and soon a second daughter emerged from the mouth of the cavern. The first daughter did not know what to do—such a small creature would obviously not survive long in this world of giants. After much time to reflect, she found her answer in the whisper of the reeds and shushing of crabs and shells.
The first culling was still quick, and still merciful. She did not leave her sister to suffer. And when she felt shame for her actions – duh, what, you think you’re the first troll to invent guilt? Now hush – she wept onto the bones of the second daughter. Her tears gilded her ribs, and sharpened her fangs, and from her heartache she fashioned a weapon.
It came to be that the first daughter would need this weapon quickly, for the sea grew restless once more. This time, it was hunger. You see, in the time the first daughter had taken to decide how to handle a second child of the ocean, there was no one to keep the sea-mother sated. She began to moan, and wail, and all around the daughter beasts would float belly-up; her fins would tremble and ache; blood would pour from her—
Seriously? You’re squeamish? You’ve been out with me, we’ve seen way worse than a little—
Wait, hey, don’t. Don’t go. I’m sorry, okay? This is important stuff.
Okay. I’ll skip it and everything. Uh—fins trembling, blood blah blah orifice, somethin somethin agony...okay, cool, here we go.
The child began to think of this as her punishment, and became angry. Not with the sea, who had given her life and food and shelter, but at this second child, who had twisted her thoughts and planted this doubt deep in her mind. When a third daughter surfaced, she struck her down without question. And this time, she did not weep.
Now the fourth child was just as small as the others, but she was quiet, and she was clever. She sang the same sea-songs but bloodied her hands with creatures that could have swallowed her whole. In doing this, she gained her strength, and when the time came when she was to be culled she gripped the trident and drove it between the first daughter’s ribs.
And this was the first overthrow, and the woven crown tumbled from her hair and at the fourth child’s feet, and when she placed it on her own head the sea held its breath to watch and listen.
By now the daughters’ blood had mixed with salt, and when the sea felt this she screamed anew; lightning tore the sky asunder, and bolt after bolt struck the waves for seasons on end. Great mountains breached the whitecaps and spat fire and smoke. When it was all over, continents spread themselves across the sea, barren only for the blink of an eye.
No, no trolls. You’re still not payin attention! It’ll be a sight longer before—
I don’t know how long, they hadn’t invented time yet, I guess.
Haha, nah, I guess I don’t know everyfin. Everything, fuck.
Sorry, shouldn’t say fuck. Let’s keep goin, yeah?
Hang on, I lost my fuckin spot.
Amid the shaking of the earth and the shrieking of the open sky, the cavern had begun to rise. New children crawled their way free. The first of these stumbled forth, and caught the next jagged blast of lightning to strike the surface in his palm. He offered this gift to the princess with a bent knee, and she accepted, and this was the first right hand of the Tyrian Line.
…yeah, haha. That’s me.
Sweeps passed, measured in the roaring of tides, rising of floors, raising of temperatures. The children that struggled ashore had never known the frozen embrace of the sea-mother. When word of this sank slowly back among the reeds, she wep. It was low. It was deafening to the bones. Even those on the dirt fell dead, and their souls trickled into the sand and fed the gardens of new beginnings.
Deep, deep beneath the glow of the moons, the sea’s daughter and her second trained: the mother’s crying settled over their fins, and they swore to soothe her, as it had been before the great rising. They bided their time, and when the waves next cast their highest shadows over the beaches they raised weapons against the lesser children; the finless sons and daughters who swore their allegiance to dirt, their depths forsaken.
There was bloodshed the likes of which will not be seen for millennia.
The remaining land children — whose children are they? You ever wonder what they really believe in? No I will not ask I have a little somethin called pride, thank you — built foundations in the sand. They slipped, and sank, and the sea-daughter watched: when she was eventually struck down by a younger princess, her own second at her side, she took up the mantle, and watched in turn.
Crown after crown dangled from endless strands of sea-grass. The garden of empire is tended by every princess, fed in blood and salt and song.
Ugh, symbolism. They must have changed authors here.
The lineage has continued thence, and is destined to follow the pull of the stars into oblivion. So sings the sea-mother.
Wait.
That’s it?
This looked way bigger on the shelves. Hang on, lemme—
There’s a shit ton of blank pages. Nobody bothered to keep goin.
…you think so?
I do think you can do it, Fef. You can do anything, you’re talkin about it all the time.
Aboat it. Yeah, that one’s free.
So how about it? You’re the next crown in the lineage. So sings the sea-mother.
Here’s my submission to the @feferizine guys! The good ol’ fish empress who deserves my appreciation, and since i like flowers as well there you have it. And everyone has done such a good job as well! :D
The flowers have no meaning lmao it’s just me drawing some random flowers ^^’
