Dibbuk glanced upwards. One of the bells was getting louder. The one nearly right above her head sounded like she was standing in a church belfry. It had an odd little tone to it that wasn’t there before. They were currently harmonizing, the smaller one ringing as the first faded.

Dibbuk stood up. She was growing tired of this waiting. As patient as she might be, this was bordering on ridiculous. If this peaceful little beach were a restaurant she’d have been waving down the wait staff by now, and she really wasn’t the type.

Either things were going to kick off now or later. She’d rather go with now if she had the choice. This underground sea, and whatever was lurking beneath, was calling her. She couldn't keep sending it to voicemail for the rest of eternity.

Looking back up towards the harmonizing bells one more time Dibbuk stepped into the water. Her foot immediately began to go numb up to the ankle. She’d wondered what the water would feel like for a living being. For some reason she couldn’t explain she knew that this sea was meant for the dead. She hoped they offered some sort of day pass.

Dibbuk waded out into the unnaturally still water until it reached her knees and stopped. She felt the call of the depths from somewhere in her genes. A call strong enough that holding herself in place was like fighting against time itself. She took one more step, and then another.

Her feet couldn’t, no, wouldn’t stay in place. With each step the shore grew further and further away, and ever deeper she went. When the water was nearly to Dibbuks jaw her feet stopped. A vibration was moving through the water.

It was a gradual, gentle, comforting pulse. It was the only thing she could actually feel at this point. The numbness had reached her head, save for a singular spot on her forehead. The spot itched a bit.

Through the water she could see a drop-off near the ends of her feet. The darkness below seemed almost enticing. Dibbuk had always loved mysteries. Now, perhaps the greatest mystery of all time was only a few feet away. It was excruciating to keep herself from the last short hop she’d need.

The darkness below moved. Something enormous was shifting in the abyss. Dibbuk thought she saw scales. As nearly every cell in her body screamed at her to run, she found her feet rooted in the sediment.

The mass shifted around in the water beneath her, causing ripples of vibrations to fly across the surface. A sort of liquid mound formed in the middle of the sea for a moment before a large scaly head broke through. It must have been the size of nearly ten city blocks. Dibbuk tried to move again but something told her to stay.

Apart from the gargantuan size, Dibbuk thought it looked rather like a Tar-Khal. It had scales that crested its head, reminiscent of some male Tar-Khal. The shape of its snout was nearly identical to hers and her brothers, and its skin was a sandy, cracked yellow like many modern Tar-Khal. As the creature emerged though, the similarities lessened more and more.

It became apparent that if this was a Tar-Khal, it was unlike any she had ever, or would ever see. It opened its eyes and turned slightly to look at her. If she had to go off of its expression it wasn’t overly impressed. There was another ripple of vibrations as it exhaled, causing a depression to form in the water in front of its face. It’s mouth opened.

“Yerach tulg? Tulgo gulk nonren. Elek tel foke hoggle, Dibbuk.” It said, giving Dibbuk a disapproving look. The voice it produced was far deeper and more ancient than the carved stones of the deep tunnels. It must have been here eons before the city, maybe even before modern Tar-Khal.

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“I’m sorry, was that Tar-Khali? I don’t speak much of it, but I think I heard you swear. You said my name, didn’t you?” Dibbuk asked, inching a little further towards the edge. The creature shook its head and made a face as if it were remembering something. It began staring at the ceiling and squinting from the effort.

“Foke. English… too old… don’t remember… anymore. Dibbuk. Flu- frustrating. Foke!” It boomed, snapping its jaws in her vicinity. Dibbuk was taken aback at the gesture. Tar-Khal hadn’t shown aggression as a form of communication for millennia.

For the first time she saw the creature's eyes in the dim starlight. The milky white that reflected back at her seemed to go on forever. It was probably blind in its extremely old age.

“H- how do you know English? That’s a human language. You must be nearly a hundred thousand years old.” She asked, waving her hand above her head to see if the being reacted. It didn’t.

“Time is not- a line. Heh heh. If it were, you’d be the old one.” It said, laboriously piecing the words together. It turned this way and that, sniffing the air before it turned to face Dibbuk.

“That’s not very helpful. How do you know my name? What is this place?” Dibbuk asked, beginning to grow impatient. She’d already been tired of waiting before meeting the living fossil in front of her, and its way of waiting nearly a minute between words was beginning to work her nerves.

“Secrets… Secrets… Not for you to learn yet, but I think you already know what this place is.” It answered. Dibbuk assumed the smile was meant to be coy, yet it came off as condescending.

“This water is filled with souls. It’s almost like I can hear voices when I sit on the bank. I can’t hear them anymore.” Dibbuk said, pulling her claws back and forth through the water.

“Souls. Inaji- Imaginative, but not quite. These are memories, spesiphi- specifically those of the dead. Allegr- Aggregated over trillions of years of life inside of a single being.” The ancient Tar-Khal explained, pausing to correct its spelling occasionally.

“Then, are you dead? Am I?” Dibbuk asked, taking another look at what seemed to be memories of her claws.

“I am… not dead. As for you, your body isn’t but your brain is. You’re in the phase between life and death.” It answered. Dibbuk wasn’t quite sure she believed him. That first part had sounded a bit dodgy. It had been even slower than the rest of it.

“Well, how do I stop it? Whatever is killing me must be taking its sweet time. I feel like I’ve been down here for days, weeks even.” Dibbuk remarked, rubbing her non-existent temples. While the condescending old dragon was causing her enough frustration, slowly dying didn’t help.

She’d done a lot of work up until this point to prevent that, even if she’d played no small part in almost causing it. Dibbuk was starting to feel like she couldn’t catch a break. It had felt like an eternity and she hadn’t even gotten a wink of sleep. A shame, really.

“You’ve been here- for a little over two hours.” The old dragon answered, cracking a wry smile. Dibbuk shook her head in disappointment.

‘I don’t know what I was expecting.’ She thought, peering down into the abyss in front of her. The ancient Tar-Khal chuckled, sending waves of vibration across the surface of the water.

“Kohkt aulek ikt.” He said, rather cheerfully. Dibbuk stared daggers at the old dragon. After a moment of tension killing silence, It pulled in close and brought one of its enormous milky white eyes down to her level.

“Time is not a line. I know this. Your brother knows this. And now, you know it.” He said, sinking below the water's surface. Dibbuk wasn’t sure she liked the old Tar-Khal, but something told her he was trustworthy. Something also told her she should follow it below the waves and into the dark.

“Time is not a line.” Dibbuk recited to herself as she took a last look at the stars. The bells were still ringing, yet now they seemed to be coming from below the water. She didn’t hold her breath or hesitate. She simply stepped off into the dark and descended into the deep.