Clay to Day – Tales of Eru: Under the Sea

I’m surrounded by such beauty it’s mesmerizing.

Beauty, and silence.

Undulating patterns of blue and green, dappled with sunlight that penetrates the surface and fades from crystal white starlight to blues and deepest black.

The Ara Sea is wonderful to look on. More so, beneath it’s waves.

As I walk here, along the bottom, away from the shore, I need time for my eyes to adjust to the depths. Some things I cannot see beyond, but I meet friends in the water. Fish and shellfish approach me, curious at first, wondering perhaps if I am good to eat. They try no more than a nibble before looking elsewhere, but, I enjoy their company, and marvel at the beauty of each life and new form I meet. This is a world I wish I might share with some other. Perhaps I should try my new tools, my sketchbook and stylus, to draw them?

Although, I think they will need time to dry out from this part of my journey.

I had left the Foothills of the Baahir Mountains, walked the length of the under and above ground passages of Nassaar, come far, and found here.

While in Nassaar and other Baahiri villages, I learned much of the culture I was born into.
I spent time with a blind man, a Dwarf, a sculptor. My first thoughts were that he either did not know what I was, or cared little. Perhaps his blind eyes saw deeper than the surface of others, or perhaps with his sight went his judgment of others that break with traditions. Whatever the case, he told me of the culture. He spoke of the aspects: the Artisan, Farseer, Foodbearer, Lawkeeper, Peacemaker, and Labourer, and their obligations: the Smith, Mason, Carpenter, Enchanter, and others. When he came to the Servant, I sat up, and he noticed the movement.
“You connect with this then? An Obligation of the Labourer?” He said with a smile and his far away gaze. “I can tell. It suits you as the Artisan, an aspect of the Mason suits me and what WAS my primary trade.. when I had my eyes”. He gazed down at his hands with eyes that could not see them. “Now these see for me”, he said, holding up his hands. He handed me something, a satchel, containing a sketchbook and artist’s styluses. “Take this, friend”, he said. “You have said to me, in your few words, of the wonder you see in the world, make note of it, such as you can, and then these tools have use again. All of us have use, and so we make ourselves USEFUL!”.

As I walked away he said, in more of a whisper “your maker, they too prayed to the Artisan I think. Such a wonder they made..”

I stopped for a moment, stunned, then quickened my pace. Their tone conveyed kindness, but I had heard other tones from other mouths.

It is good to meet kindness. It affirms. I would like best to meet others wishes, to bring them happiness. This feels to me like purpose. When their wish is that I would be gone from the world.. This is not a wish I find enjoyment in. Why do some act this way?

I have passed through the darkest part of the waters, and begin again to see light shimmering down through the waves. I believe I have walked to the far shore.

As my head breaches the surface, I see the lights of a large town glistening in the evening. Day has turned to night.

This town, this culture, seems different from Baahir. It seems more vibrant in a way. Filled with color.

I walk from the shore and find a place to hide for a time, while the chill of the evening freezes the water from my clothes. Then, I can shake it away and join others with somewhat less suspicion.

I do not know these people yet. They may not be as welcoming as the fish of the Ara Sea. Their bite may be worse.

I hope they are kind.