Few gods are as widely prayed to as the god of Water and the All-mother. Together they nourish life and provide in their own ways for us. Nearly all of the ancient manuscripts I have managed to lay my eyes on seem to be in agreement that the All-mother grants us the gift of birth while the god of water grants the gift of life. One springs forth life while the other sustains it - a symbiotic relationship. In my travels with his holiest majesty, nearly every settlement we encountered had an altar dedicated to one or both of these two gods.

-Excerpt from Benedict Emberquill’s third manuscript on the blessings of the king.

Marcus stirred uneasily in his slumber. The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon, basking the village of Eldenbrook in its golden glow and casting the first ray of sunshine through a gap in the windows upon Marcus' face Restless dreams plagued his mind, where tumultuous waters churned and crashed against unseen shores! Over this clamour the echoes of a single, distant voice rose and reverberated through his head: ‘if you would face me, take up arms.`

With a sudden start, Marcus awoke. His heart pounding, his face sweaty, he looked around at his humble cottage confusedly trying to shake off the tenant of his dreams and the cobwebs of his slumber. He stepped out of his bed, clad in a simple linen nightgown, and stepped onto the cool, worn floorboards of his cottage. The sun had yet to illuminate his home but still the smell of the salt roused Marcus from his drowsy state. The cottage was downtrodden, missing planks showing white sand underneath, crooked windows letting in a salty breeze, and an unceasing cries of seagulls. With a smile bloomed on his face Marcus started his morning routine. He loved being here; just a few steps away from the beach.

Beyond the window, the rising sun had yet to vanquish the twilight, where shadows danced amidst the whispers of the morning breeze. Marcus donned a tunic woven from the finest fabrics, clasped his boots, and equipped his waist with his father’s good luck charm and final gift: a belt dedicated to the Water God. He ran his fingers along the God's symbol, enjoying the swirling patterns of stylized water. The bronze belt was hefty and today was the first time that Marcus was allowed to wear it; the day of his 16th birthday. In only a few more hours Marcus would leave the shoreline by himself and fish on one of the boats. He had been looking forward to this day for as long as he could remember.

He sneaked over to the other bed upon which Mama was still sleeping. Marcus grinned at his success in not waking her up and as his prize for his self-imposed challenge he woke her with a gentle kiss on the forehead. She immediately opened her eyes - had she merely pretended to not be woken by his antics? No, he decided, this was just a coincidence - and smiled as she turned to Marcus: “Off to some early fishing, again my dearest?”. Just the sound of her voice filled Marcus with energy and filial love. “Of course mama. Should I bring you something this time?” Mama's smile turned to a frown. “I wish you wouldn’t fish as much Marcus.” With a heavy sigh, Marcus stepped towards the door. He felt her stare but pressed on. This was an old disagreement between them and at this point the exchange was more of a ritual than an actual argument. He could spend an entire day having a fine time at home. However, it would still be only fine. “Mama, you know that I need to do this.” Marcus said softly, as if he did not want to hurt her with his words. Mama smoothly slid out from under her covers and stood up from the bed in one motion. Her movement had a grace to them that Marcus could never hope to imitate. Her long silver hair somehow always managed to look smooth and silky. Marcus, in contrast to the ethereal beauty of Mama, had taken after his father, the sharp nose, the curly hair, the perpetual angry eyebrows even when not angry. She also always used her hair to hide her ears. Once when he was younger he managed to see them and he knew they looked different from his or anyone else's. Mama never revealed to Marcus why her ears were different and instead cautioned him to never mention them to the other people in their community. “I believe that we are done then.” Mama spoke with an air of resolution. “Carry compassion wherever you go.” Marcus turned around and looked at his mother with curiosity at this departure from their usual banter. “Of course, Mama. Wherever I might go.” With that promise Marcus left his home.

Their abode sat on useless rocky terrain unfit for even sheep to eat with the town a short sprint away. Eldenbrook was an unremarkable town like so many others dotting the coastline. A church, a marketplace and 2 houses for the priest and tavern owner and then cottages for the folks. The harbour was the heart of their tight-knit community with fine fishing ships allowing the folks of Eldenbrook to not poach off the crown’s forest.

Venturing forth into the false light of early dawn, Marcus found solace in the quietude that enveloped the land. The caress of the wind carried the fragrance of distant seas, beckoning him towards uncharted waters. Oh how Marcus' heart ached to answer the call, but it was not his place. His place was in Eldenbrook, where Marcus could fulfil his father’s last wish to take care of mama. Resting his hand on his father's belt, Marcus hardened his heart - not even the sea’s call would make him go against his parent’s wishes. He had grabbed his trident from its secret hiding spot, a gift from Marcus' only friend in town: the fisher Akim. On Marcus 12th name day Akim had gifted Marcus the trident in secret. It took Mama less than half a day before she found out. He smiled wryly at the memory of the ensuing chastisement - she had kept berating him for hours and she would probably have kept going if he hadn't faked needing to sleep. Marcus still thought the trident was worth it and more besides. It was crafted using iron instead of bronze and Marcus had found out quickly that the trident was enchanted to not rust at all. As he went on to walk to his favourite fishing spot -far away- Marcus heard an annoying voice: “You forgot your dog, Marcus!” It was Aldous, the noisest person of town. “And what business is the dog to me, then? Marcus was about to continue on his way but then remembered his last conversation about the shaggy dog with his mother.

Mama had told Marcus to be kind to the dog: ‘You do not know what the fates have planned for you and the dog. Best you keep the fates on your side’. Marcus sighed, reluctantly stopped in his tracks and forced a smile towards Aldous. The man was the only person in town who was not skin and bones. “Have you already started drinking Aldous?” “I would never, Marcus. You, of all people, should know that your product is not for our own consumption.” Marcus already regretted speaking to this man. He shouted while walking away: “Keep the dog, it is more of an assistance to you.” Aldous, ignoring Marcus' words, instead yelled: “And don’t forget to bring some fish for the dog, in case your mother again refuses!” Overcome with anger, Marcus yelled: “At least I have someone that follows me wherever I go! Now don’t bring ruin to my day!” This exchange, as most conversations with Aldous, left Marcus fuming, and had managed to obliterate his earlier jolly mood. The rich prick always had to make some remark about Mama.

Marcus really didn’t know why the dog had been following him since his 15th name day. It had appeared with no warning on his last name day and never left nor did it eat. Folks of Eldenbrook spoke about the dog being cursed; all the other animals in Eldenbrook stayed well clear of the shaggy dog. Even though it wasn’t large enough to count for hunting. Marcus was conflicted about the dog. It was rather creepy, but it hadn’t harmed him so he just resolved to ignore it. He even succeeded in doing so most of the time.

As Marcus walked to the edge of town towards the rocks that he favoured for fishing, he heard barking. “This dog doesn’t know when to quit.” Marcus thought to himself. “Might as well let him walk with me, before he wakes the entire town with his incessant barking.” Marcus waited for the shaggy dog to come. The poor thing was infested with fleas and had not seen a good meal in some time now. “I wonder if this dog will eat fish today." He hoped it did, not only would it be good for the dog, it would also allow him to tell himself he just never noticed it eating before. Marcus continued onwards to the fishing spot as he heard a thunderous rumbling in the distance. Marcus was unsettled as the sky had seemed ever calm so far with no signs of a storm approaching. Thinking nothing of it, he speared fish with the shaggy dog watching him closely. Feeding the dog posed an obstacle Marcus hadn’t overcome for a year now. The accursed thing refused to eat any of the fish that Marcus caught. Marcus was unrestful as the dog was too meagre to refuse any meat. Did it think itself so above the station of a mere fisher boy that it would rather die, than accept his offerings? Just why would the shaggy dog refuse food while it seemed to stand on death’s door? Frustrated and concerned he talked to the dog, trying to make it see reason. “Feed yourself, dog. Mama will be overjoyed if you took but one bite.” The dog looked at Marcus with a tilted head and for a moment Marcus thought he spotted some sarcasm in the eyes of the dog. What an annoying animal it was! “I could also shoo you away. I am not beholden to just endlessly let you enjoy my secret spot. Why not make yourself useful and let me feed you?” Now Marcus definitely spotted a twinkle in the eyes of the dog that weirded him out. “You should have been a mule, not a dog, given how mule-headed you are! Alright, I will forgo the subject. Be a quiet observer but don’t protest when you die at my feet.” The shaggy dog responded by shaking its body with great vigour, letting many fleas and even a few maggots loose. The dog was truly Marcus' worst enemy. Choosing to ignore the odd behaviour Marcus returned to spearing fish. Marcus mumbled to himself: “Tis sacrilege to my father’s memory to have such a dog here-” Marcus stopped himself and prayed: “Forgive me all-mother. I should also pay respect to the other.” In ashamed silence, Marcus spent dawn trying to spear the best fish for the market later. He needed at least three big catches to satisfy his mother’s appetite for exotic tea’s.

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After a while Marcus saw that the fish had gone entirely. This left Marcus confused as the sun had only just fully risen and the town was not yet awake in its entirety. He had never seen fish do this before. Then the water retracted, leaving the bare seabed exposed to the air, and a great rumbling could be heard again from the distance, as if an impossibly large giant had fallen in the water. Except, giants didn’t live in the water, did they? Marcus turned and in his unease unthinkingly lashed out at the dog: “Get lost!” To Marcus' astonishment the dog had rejuvenated. It was still very much the same dog -same grey eyes and brown fur- but it seemed as if the fleas had abandoned his fur and instead of a gaunt visage, a sturdy brave dog was growling at Marcus. When Marcus' eyes turned back to the sea they became wide and he could feel the blood leaving his face. A gargantuan wave, bigger than the biggest ship he had ever seen, was on the horizon and it was gaining speed. Marcus, terrified, fell to the ground and started praying. “Oh lord of the seas, plea-” Pain surged through Marcus as the dog tore into the arm of the fisher boy. Panicking he vigorously moved his arm and threw the dog far away. The pain was agonising, pulsing in waves to the beat of his pulse and driving tears to his eyes. The dog had torn apart flesh and sinew and the arm was hanging loose now. The wave was only getting closer now and now it looked as if it could swallow the world whole. If only the accursed beast hadn’t interrupted his prayer, he may have managed to appease the fury of the Water God. Now it was too late, the wave was going to hit Eldenbrook and all its inhabitants. The sky turned grey and the wave casted a shadow over Marcus and then the town. Marcus cursed: “May you find no peace, vicious dog!” As the wave was almost on the shoreline, Marcus felt his belt emit warmth. With his good arm he firmly grasped the bronze water god symbol. The warmth left the belt and flowed through his body and he felt his mangled arm regrow entirely. His head became heavy as if he had just ran 50 miles along the shore. With his left hand still on the warm symbol Marcus stood up and feverishly raised his freshly healed right arm towards the wave. He felt as if waves of energy pulsed through his body and then - darkness.

*

Marcus woke to a splash of water hitting his face.. He found himself surrounded by people from the town. Sputtering, he wondered what was going on as he listened to the words of the townsfolk - what had happened with the giant wave? Still somewhat disoriented he only caught a few scattered pieces of conversations. “Not a new one-” “should we throw him to the sea?” As his eyesight returned he saw that nearly the whole town stood around him but at a distance. He was confused and frankly somewhat frightened. Did he just hear someone suggest throwing him into the sea? Surely, they must have been talking about something else?

Tilting his head Marcus noticed the dog from before circling him, growling at any villager who stepped forward. “What happened?” Marcus slurred. Still the fact that everyone was safe and sound filled him with relief and as his fighting spirit left him so did his consciousness. The final sounds he heard were that of rushed footsteps and the shouting of Mama.

The second time Marcus awoke, he was much more comfortable. He was back in the cottage with only Mama there. “There, my sweetheart. You must be exhausted. Take a moment of respite.” She dipped a piece of cloth in warm water and placed it on Marcus forehead. “What's going on Mama? I don’t understand.” Marcus said, after which he coughed violently. Mama put Marcus upright and handed him some water. She took a moment to weigh her words before saying: “Your loyal dog kept you safe until I could pick you up. Still, this place isn't safe for you anymore. It won’t be long before the royal soldiers are here. I have already packed your possessions and sent a message to an old friend of mine. She should await you less than a day’s walk from here.” Mama took a shaky breath in, clearly trying to not let her son notice her barely withheld tears …and failing. “I also packed your favourite apples for lunch. Do not wait or look back. This town has nothing of value left for you."

Marcus shouted: “what are you saying Mama!? What happened!? Please tell me what's going on!?" Tears welled up in his eyes. Why was Mama sending him away? What about his father's last wish? "Can't I stay for a bit more?" He pleaded "I feel as if I just got thrown against a cliff by the waves over and over again. Why are the royal soldiers even coming for me!? I didn't even do anything!” Instead of answering, Mama stood up and grabbed a knapsack. For a moment she seemed to have doubt in her heart but then she pulled Marcus from his bed. The moment she touched Marcus, he felt warmth once again coursing through his body and he stood up with great ease. “Does it have to do with father? I should have never worn this belt!” Before Marcus could tear it off, he was stopped and embraced by his mother. She hugged Marcus tightly and whispered in his ears: “Never forget what I taught you. Never forget who gave you that belt and do not look back. Now go. You’re not safe here anymore.” Marcus resisted. “Why don't you come with me, mama?” In the distance a clamour could be heard; screaming and the galloping of a dozen horses entering town. Mama’s face turned pale. “They are already here. Marcus, listen very closely. This dog will keep you safe. Follow wherever it goes. You must leave me now. This is my final wish.” With tears flowing, they embraced each other in a tight hug.

A large explosion pierced the air. Mama pushed Marcus away. Marcus made to follow the dog, who had returned to its flea-infested look. What? “No time to contemplate the appearance of the dog, my son. Go now." Marcus was compelled to follow his mother’s wishes but he had doubts: “This can’t be her final wish? Can it?” He thought to himself. At the doorstep Marcus turned around to have a last look at his mother and he was dismayed; she looked much older and stood bent instead of upright. Her hair was messy and no emotion could be read on her face. When their eyes locked she spoke with a frightening tone Marcus had never heard before: “Leave now, never return here.” Marcus felt his mind going numb and his body turn as if under the control of another and he left through the door.

As soon as Marcus left the cottage it seemed like he had just stepped into a different world. The whole town was burning and it was night. He could feel the heat of the flames even at his remote cottage. “How long was I out? A day? More?” Marcus unfortunately -fortunately?- couldn’t spend more time pondering as he saw in the distance royal soldiers striking down the men on sight and putting the women and children in iron cages. This town was lost and soon to be scraped from the annals of history. He felt a moment of guilt, had he brought this fate upon his neighbours? But he hadn't done anything, had he? Before he could lose himself in recriminations an unnatural screech filled the night’s sky. He had no more time to assess the horrors committed before him as the dog barked and ran straight to the edge of town, away from the main road and into the forest. As Marcus neared the trees, he turned around to witness what was happening to his home. The entire town had gone up in flames and no more screaming could be heard, only the whimpers of the captured and the harsh orders of the soldiers. With only a few dozen people the royal soldiers didn't need much time to destroy everything. Then amongst the crumbling of buildings Marcus spotted something and he was awestruck. Great whips made out of pure flames were swiping through the town as if a beast of the end times saw fit to bring ruin to this fishing settlement. Each whip was larger than the church tower. They crashed through the huts as if they were made out of paper and with one swoop they reduced the church's stone tower to a heap of stones. Then a torrent of water arose from his own home. It had a glow to it as if it was reflecting the moonlight, or was it emitting it? The torrent created rain and doused the flames throughout the village, but did not harm the fiery whips that had now taken notice of the water torrent. As Marcus watched the whips lashed at the towering pillar of water that stood firm on his home. At first it seemed as if the whips were unable to harm the water torrent, and hope asserted itself within him,but then to Marcus’s horror the moonglow that was in the water started to slowly fade away. Emboldened by the crumbling defence, the fire whips slashed through the water torrent. Marcus stood frozen, kept in place by his mother’s final wish as slowly the wall of water fell apart. The moment the wall fell entirely a pure white beam of light struck at the exact place Marcus grew up. The light should have blinded him, but it didn't; instead he saw how the fire whips subsided or even disappeared entirely. He could only watch as his mother’s body flew towards the stars through the beam of light.