A/N: Here's my first try at a creation myth. I actually wrote it last year, but finally got it typed. Hope you like it.
Long, long ago, when humans numbered few upon the Earth, there was an island. This island was so long it stretched from the cold northern waters straight through the warm southern waters until it again reached the cold.
In those days, one-third of the people on the Earth lived on that island. They lived among the woods and the fields, the rainforests and the meadows, the deserts and the mountains of that island. But they all had one think in common, which separated them from the rest of the humans on Earth. They did not love the places they lived in. They did not revere the sunlight as it dappled green among the leaves of the trees. They did not worship the stars reflected in the mountain glaciers; or the cool earth as they lay in the meadows among the waving fronds of grass. They loved the ocean.
The islanders looked at the sun sparkling silver off the top of the waves and called it a miracle. They heard the crash and sweep of the waves on the shore and danced to that music. They swam in the cool waters of the tranquil sea, thanking the waters for their bounty of life. They watched the stormy sea howl in its anger and marveled at the power it had, where others would have cowered in fear.
For this reason the islanders were chosen. Chosen not because they were special, or higher than other humans; chosen because they had already chosen that life for themselves – yet had not the power to make it fully alive. So on the night of the full moon, the first night of the year, the Ocean Goddess appeared to the islanders. She appeared among them as they danced on the shore to welcome the new year. To each one She appeared as different as their vision of the ocean-sea. Powerful, or tranquil. Graceful, or passionate. To each islander She issued the same choice: to become one with the ocean or to stay rooted to the earth. Forever.
"And as you have Chosen, so mote it be!" She spoke with the Power of the divine. And the island melted away, sinking to merge with the ocean floor. The islanders were left floating on the rolling waves, drifting with the sea.
Then the wind began to howl. The waves churned, tossing the helpless islanders into the air, then dunking them under the salty waters. But the islanders did not scream, or cry, or gasp with fear. Their eyes shone with exhilaration, their arms spread wide to dance with the waves, and they began to sing.
They sang of the ocean as they spun and twirled upon the waves. They sang of the waves they heard when they woke in the morning and lay down at night. They sang of the majesty, grandeur, wisdom, they saw in the wide open ocean. Mourning the sorrow and loneliness that lured them to the rainy waters. They sang of the passion, anger, power in the stormy waves. And the harmony and tranquility that led them to the laughing crystal-blue sea.
And then they began to Change. Mixing with their visions of the sea, their bodies become more suited for the waters. Their legs flowed together, forming a tail and fin better suited for swimming. Their emotions swirled, combined with that of the ocean to heighten those which they saw in the sea. Their voices matured until they could sing the haunting melody of the wave-tossed waters. And their bodies thinned, becoming powerful and flexible, able to dance with the currents.
Then the Ocean Goddess rose out of the waves and declared "You are now the People of the Sea. Born anew from the wind-tossed waves you are brethren to the humans on land. But while they live out their life on earth, you shall live in the sea. To them you shall seem as ageless as the ocean itself. But when your time comes, I shall be there to lead you to your next existence."
Then the People of the Sea were joyous, and sang their praise of the Ocean Goddess. As one, they trilled their song and dove under the waves to their ocean kingdom below. And far away, humans heard their song, and marveled at it, calling it the song of the spirits.
The island which had melted away was needed no longer. For every islander had chosen, and become, a Person of the Sea.
In those early times, humans and sea-people had mingled freely, forming friendships, connections and alliances between them. But slowly, humans became mistrustful of the strange people with tails where their legs should be. So they drifted apart, the People of the Sea rarely mixing with humans, until mere legends and myths remained of their kind. Some of those myths were truer than others, but many held a common thread. They talked of islanders who had so loved the ocean they had become part of it. And some called that island Atlantis.