Torrent waters

            Screaming gull

            A wary boat

            A softened lull

            What is this thing you ask of me?

            We come from the sea,

            We come from the sea.

            And all the days

            On wavy waters

            Wondering of

            These laughing wand'rers

            Why have you come to torment me?

            We come from the sea,

            We come from the sea.

            But once your meddling

            Sea worthy ship

            Should come to pass

            The wind will whip

            And you will learn to not cross the sea

            The salty sea,

            The deep blue sea.

            And you will learn not to torment we,

            Who come from the sea,

            We come from the sea.


I had never been troubled by the sea. I could always run to the ocean when my list of troubles was growing longer...and they would all just drift away with the waves.

Sometimes I wondered why the sea would react to me like it did - the seemingly calm waters would swell up in front of me and wash over me like some large, intangible blanket. I used to think they would beat down upon me because they wanted me to go - to leave them to their peace, whoever or whatever they were - but then one day I realized, while standing in the water, in the part where it just reaches your navel and you want to go farther, but don't, that the sea didn't want me to go at all. It was calling to me. And I knew that I belonged there. I knew that when the water would send for me, I could run to the water, that whenever I was near it, I was free.

It wasn't as if I wasn't free besides that . . . it would seem that I was free with whatever I did. It was only that the waters that abided next to the place I called my home were now a part of me as they had never been before I moved here. And whenever I wandered inland – to go to school, or on an outing, or perhaps to shop – I would feel like something was missing. True, I could still smell the salty sea air, and feel the aura of the ocean around me, but it was not enough. I had to be near it. I had to see it. It was so very much a part of me that to some extent I thought of it as my soul. And yet it was a mere body of water.

I, however, did not believe that the ocean was only a body of water. I had reason to believe otherwise. Not plain, solid, logical reason, but reason nonetheless. I had heard its melodic whisper in the night, seen its eyes seeking out shadows and its arms tossing over ships. I had felt it beckoning. And I knew it was something more.


A/N: I know this was short. But it was only a prologue. I would like to give out tons of thanks to Ghost Shadow, who reviewed my poem of the same name as this story (which, incidentally, is at the top of the page), and partially inspired this story. I would like to dedicate this story to them, if they really don't mind, and thank them – and anyone who reviews this story – very, very much. And when I say review I mean review future chapters, as this isn't much of a chapter, now is it? You can leave one if you want to, though.