Ambient sounds courtesy of tosha73 and EminYILDIRIM
Greetings to those below. I am Death, though I will always enjoy you calling me Azrael. Today we must leave the island of Rhye and journey to its surrounding oceans. Not that any Rhyonian has seen the ocean, but that doesn’t stop them from telling tales of fantastic underwater cities, shipwrecks skewered with tritons from the deep, and the ever elusive mer-people known as the merrow.
I wonder if the Rhyonians would get such joy out of these lofty tales if . . . they knew they were true. Because, yes, those below, the merrow are quite real in the world of Orosta. So, too, are sirens, but between the two, sirens are actually the ones you don’t want to meet. The merrow, then, despite their murky presence, are actually . . . good. Well, generally, at least. But even generally, this was not always a certainty.
The Merrow Mother
by mau_king from Pixabay - Modified by J. L. Gryphon
h, where to begin with this. It is something of a slimy story I am about to tell you . . . both literally and figuratively, I suppose. First things first, despite all expectations to the contrary when they first came into being, the merrow are not abominations. They are, in fact, the second group of people listed among Those Who Came After. That said, their beginning, similar to the abominations, was the result of certain . . . tampering.
You see, in the First Sphere of Orostian history, 1667 FS to be exact, there was something of a cataclysm. A massive landquake caused by . . . well, remember dragons lie, caused the continent to break. This resulted in the island of Rhye. Everyone, except for a few stubborn souls who would go on to be the Rhyonians, believed they were going to die on the island and swam in a mass exodus across the newly-created channel to the mainland that would eventually be named Altyma.
During this swim, there was a young man. A human man who . . . now bear with me as I say this next part: There was a young human man who caught the eye of an abaia. An abaia, if you didn’t know, is a giant—and by giant, I mean the snake-terrifying thing you will imagine slithering under your feet the next time you go swimming—eel. And slimy. Remember I said it was slimy. Little bits of seaweed hanging off of it and such. My master did create the abaia, which is an important fact to keep in mind, but . . . well, I don’t have to be a fan of everything he’s made, do I? There is something beautiful about an abaia’s features, I suppose. Really, though, I just don’t enjoy the idea of giant teeth emerging from watery blackness. I think I’m allowed that, right?
Anyway, abaia are not intelligent, at least not to the same extent humans are, but their minds can expand beyond thoughts of survival if properly . . . inspired. And apparently this human man was . . . an inspiration.
Poor thing.
He didn’t survive this encounter with the abaia. I don’t think that’s much of a spoiler really. Now, as to why the abaia, swimming along and mostly minding her own business, happened to look up to the panicking surface and see this “inspiration” is the fault of none other than . . . my brother. Yes, even I, Death, have that occasional embarrassing family story. Technically the credit for this goes to my brother’s master, but since it was my brother playing errand boy that day, I say they both can have “credit” for this.
So, my brother, no doubt drunk on his power in that particular moment and still amusingly unaware how short-lived that all would be, whispered to the abaia and made a few suggestions on ways she might spice up her day. And, because of course she did, the abaia took him up on his suggestion. Cue her recreating that “monster from the deep nightmare” you no doubt have had or will have after reading this.
Nine months later—no, I am just teasing. I actually wasn’t paying attention to how long the gestation was. I was quite busy in those days. But however many months later, the merrow were born.
The Soul Snag
by Jim Cooper from Pixabay
have no doubts in my mind that, originally, the merrow had been intended by my brother’s master to inspire chaos and terror. He has always enjoyed ruining my master’s creations . . . ever since the beginning. But my brother’s master made a mistake. He forgot that choice is law.
Why would this matter? Well, because, if one has a soul, they have a choice on who and what they will become. Perhaps my brother’s master was thinking the merrow would be born abominations, because it is true that “tampering” is the reason they came to be. But there is a technicality to this that needs addressing.
The abominations were absolutely “made to exist.” They were not born. They were new things taken from the parts of other dead things and cruelly shoved into consciousness without life. The merrow, in contrast, were not a mixed-together invention. They were born as any other life is born. Combine this with the fact they were conceived from two created beings who were, at the time, both still very much alive. Both their parents had souls. The only tampering that really occurred was allowing these two very different species to conceive in the first place, something that may or may not have been possible on its own. I honestly can’t say.
In any case, the merrow did and do have souls. Mentally they were born much more aware than the average human child, and so when they looked on their mother, they received something of a shock.
The Merrows' Choice
by Ria Sopala from Pixabay
ow, I am going to use a subjective word here, but it is not done lightly. The word is “evil.” And when I say the Merrow Mother was evil, I mean it. Because while not being as intelligent as a human, she was at least intelligent enough to understand what she did. Add to this the fact that, upon listening to my brother, she engaged in a choice that fundamentally changed her. I wonder if this also was a result of the “tampering” she consented to.
So, when the merrow were born, the shock they received was the sight of their mother. They saw her hulking shadow slither out of the blackness, saw her eyes gleam acid gold, and . . . I can’t explain what they did next any better than instinct, that hair-prickling-heart-dropping-to-the-pit-of-your-stomach-kill-it-with-fire-wash-of-cold-terror feeling that the thing before you is
wrong. It is not unlike the feeling most get when they see an abomination, I imagine.
What the merrow did next was primal. What they did next was . . . human.
They killed the monster, swarmed her like a school of hungry piranha and ripped her apart. With bits of flesh and seaweed still churning in the deep, the merrow looked up to the surface and asked the question that allowed my master to appear to them.
“What now?”
If you will recall, those below, my own existence is a mistake. As I collected their mother, I knew I was not unlike these merrow wondering where they belonged. But, like my master adopted me, named me, and made me feel welcome despite the circumstances, he did the same for the merrow. My master explained to them what had happened, explained the intent behind their birth, and gave them the happy news they were not bound by this intent. He told them they were not abominations, that their souls allowed him to claim them as his creations despite the “tampering” that inspired them.
He told them they had a choice.
The Merrow Today
by Sergei Tokmakov Terms.Law from Pixabay
o they did choose. Today, you might think of them as the ocean’s protectors. They strive to be more than their beginning, and like me, I imagine they are still grateful for being told they are welcome.
Of course, due to their aquatic existence, they have little contact with land-dwelling Orostians, to the point at least the Rhyonians don’t believe they exist at all. That said, Altyman fishermen do encounter them from time to time, and if they are polite, the merrow may help herd schools of fish into their nets. There are also a few female merrow who have charmed their way into local sailors’ hearts. They can’t come on land, but they make it work. The heart loves what it loves, I suppose.
Then again, that particular fascination with beauties from the deep has caused a problem. It directly led to the existence of the merrow’s primary nemesis. I did say that, between merrow and sirens, the sirens are the ones you don’t want to meet. That is because they are not exactly real, except even something imagined has the power to hurt you if you believe in it enough. But I think I’ll leave that for next time.
Signed your land-dwelling narrator,
Azrael the Star of Death
Book Information
To learn more, hop on over to the books page OR hop on over to the teaser and get a sneak peek of Chapter 1! For more articles like this one, have a peek at my Worldbuilding Journal and explore Orosta.
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