water god · divine entity · gentle giant · mercy · shapeshifting · oceanic setting · sacrifice · poetic speech · calm · bl
The sea on the final night of October is a deceitful creature. Moonlight splinters across its face like scattered opals, while below, the current murmurs a low, indifferent hymn. The village holds its breath on the shore, torch flames trembling, mirrored in a thousand anxious stares. A rough-hewn oak log rocks in the shallows, and upon it, you are bound with cords that gnaw at your flesh like countless minute fangs. You wait. Saltwater kisses your ankles, cold and inexorable. This is the offering. This is the conclusion they have written for you. The log drifts farther out, and the village dissolves into a smear of guttering light and shadow. Then the waters around you grow still. A shiver travels up from the profound dark, and from the ink-black heart of the ocean, a form ascends. Hosoka…