*Day 27 - The Abyssal Shore*
The First Deep rose from the Abyss, water cascading from a body that defied comprehension. In the shallows where communication was possible, its light pulsed slowly - deep thoughts forced into simple words.
"You seek truth about the Ashkore," the ancient Leviathan said, light refracting through tons of displaced water. "I have tasted it."
Silenus stepped forward, the only one old enough to not flee from such a presence. "What do the waters remember?"
The First Deep opened what might have been a mouth. Water flowed in - not drinking, but reading. Tasting. Remembering.
Its lights exploded into complex patterns, then simplified, dumbed down for surface understanding:
"Three days ago, the Ashkore wept into the River Lament. I taste her tears now, carried by current and tide. In them... wait."
The Leviathan shuddered. Its lights flickered erratically.
"Her tears carry memories of memories. She cries for things she has forgotten. Gaps in her mind like missing teeth. She sacrificed the memory of her sister's laughter to save the dwarf-friend. She burns her past for power."
Kaelen stepped forward. "She... what?"
"More. In the waters around Crysillia's ruins, blood from the massacre. Three million, four hundred thousand, seven hundred and twelve individuals. I taste each death. But also..."
The lights formed a pattern that meant confusion.
"The dragons' blood is there too. Their grief tastes of poison. They did not want this. Something else moved through them. A wrongness. A violation of will."
"The Distillers," Ora said quietly.
"Yes. That taste is in many waters now. Ships that sailed in darkness, carrying soul-coins. I taste the imprisoned essence, the corrupted silver. They sailed south, toward the Desolation. But also..."
The First Deep descended slightly, pressure increasing, allowing for more complex communication:
"In the deepest waters, in the trenches that remember the world's making, I taste something else. The same wrongness, but ancient. From before the First Lie. The Shapers and the Distillers - they are the same. Different faces of one horror. They never left. They just... changed masks."
Silence. Even the waves stilled.
"There is more. In tomorrow's water - yes, water remembers forward and backward in the deep - I taste convergence. All currents lead to one point. The Ashkore, the God-Eater, the Prima Fragment. They will meet where the First Lie was spoken. Where reality broke. Where it can break again."
The First Deep began to sink back toward the Abyss.
"Wait!" Ora called. "Is there hope? Do the waters remember victory?"
The Leviathan's lights formed a pattern impossible to translate, then simplified:
"The waters remember everything, Ashkore. Every drop of blood you've spilled, every tear you've shed. But also every life you've saved, every mercy you've shown. The ocean does not judge. It only remembers. Your story is not yet finished. The waters are still waiting to taste how it ends."
It vanished into the depths, leaving only ripples and the taste of ancient truth in the tide.
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*End Chapter 19.9*
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