Rapture of the Deep: Episode 7 (Final)

Lawrence University Creative Writing Club Spring Serial Story


Covered in the throw of night’s misty veil came the child of our Oceanus and his Promethean friend. In the ship graveyard outspread hecatombs of riven ships and drowned sailors, from the fluyts of golden Netherland to antediluvian vessels of a forgotten, bygone age. An oppressive atmosphere of fog and dread rolled above the tides, and the rancid waters smelled of decay, attacking Lennerd and Lumen like a toxic miasma that burned of poison to the veins. The two swam away in frantic desperation: coughing, heaving and gasping for oxygen from the finer blue waters. 

“By great Oceanus!” yelled Lumen, “I’ve never felt such a malady in my life! No wonder they banned us from playing over there back in our little fish days.”

“A prior notice of caution would have been appreciated,” groaned Lennerd, apprehending the thought of braving the ship graveyard again to find kraken evidence. “Say, Lumen, do you have any more magical fish that can help us breathe toxic currents?” 

“Oh, don’t be silly,” chided the glow fish. “Not everything can be solved by a magical fish. We grow deep water algae to clean up pollutants.”

“So do you have any magical algae with you?”

“No.”

“But…?”

“But, I know where we can get some. There’s a town some odd leagues away that grows exotic plants and algae for potion making. That’s actually where the potion for the magical fish is from, you know. My friend Pippin works over there as an alchemist; I’m sure he can help us out!”

Pippin, huh? Lennerd thought to himself. That’s a fairly ordinary name for—

“Well, his actual name is Neptuna,” continued Lumen, “but we call him Pipsqueak, or Pippin to be nice. You see, back when we swam in schools, he was the youngest out of all of us and was simply the most anxious sort. Just don’t tell him that’s why he’s called Pippin,” winked the glow fish.

On their journey to Piscity, the two swimmers finally made good acquaintance. They joked and talked about their lives before the kraken, and discussed plans for dealing with the foul creature. When they reached the border of the city, illuminated by glowing deepwater plants, the swimmers saw squadrons of patrol sharks darting toward the city. 

“Well, isn’t that strange?” noted Lumen. “Typically a single shark can deal with common troubles, and a single squadron is only needed in dire situations, like the vampire raid. But a platoon… that implies—blood?” 

The two were hit by a current of ruddy water.

“Lennerd, we need to hurry! NOW!”

The center of Piscity was silent; there were no fish in sight. The coral houses were torn apart, and streams of congealed blood flowed through the streets, accompanied by mutilated flesh and bone. 

“Lumen… I’m sorr—”

“Pippin! Pippin! Pippin!” cried the glow fish as he thrashed against the undertow in frantic desperation, searching for his best friend. With each new name, Lumen’s voice became more broken and unhinged as he fell into delirium. “Pippin! Pippin! Neptuna!”

“Lumen!” came a strained voice underneath the seabed. “Lumen, is that really you? Please help, there are a few survivors here trapped in the caverns below. Some need serious medical attention! I’m doing what I can, but there isn’t much time left.”

“Pippin!” shouted Lumen. “Don’t do anything, we’ll get everyone out of there!”

After immense teamwork and labor between the patrol sharks and Lennerd, they were able to free and treat the few surviving fish. The tuna fish was the last to leave after making sure everyone was accounted for. When he got out, he was hugged by his best friend. 

“Neptuna,” asked Captain Selachi, “please, work with me but for a moment, what under the great blue sea happened here?”

After Neptuna detailed the past day and the kraken attack, Captain Selachi looked at the haggard surface dweller. 

“Lennerd,” said the Captain, “I still won’t forgive your kind for what they’ve done to my people, but I’ll at least give you a chance, just this once.”

When they returned to Davy Jones’ castle, Captain Selachi petitioned the king to seek his aid for the coming kraken hunt. Lumen, Morga and Granny Coelacanth testified on Lennerd’s goodwill, and Neptuna retold the story of the kraken attack. Eventually, Davy Jones gave in and prepared his armies. 

While Lennerd prepared for the kraken fight, he was pulled aside by the castle armorer. In hushed whispers, he was told that he only had a few hours left of oxygen, and that he could be given a potion to return to the surface, but never to return again. After solemn consideration, he denied the offer and was bequeathed a gilded coffer excavated from a long-lost city to honor his decision. In his equipage, his spear was tipped with a tooth of Tiamat, his shield was forged in fabled adamantine and he was adorned in armor of ancient mer-kings to war for the seven seas.

In the break of day, the rising sun pierced the darkness of the deep sea, illuminating the armor of doughty fish-knights saddled on the backs of the finest sea-chargers. Battalions of aquatic soldiers swam towards the kraken, whose bloody trail was sniffed out by a vanguard of sea dogs commanded by Captain Selachi. 

According to the plans devised by the customs of tradition, the sea dogs chained Princess Blobina the beautiful to the grimy rocks, attracting the kraken. When the kraken grabbed the princess, the great Captain sounded his bellowing conch shell, and harpoonists volleyed their shots, striking the dreaded creature. The kraken reeled in pain and anger, dropping the princess. It swatted at their numbers, decimating the lot; but brave fighting fish charged at the behemoth, aggroing its attention. They battled the monster, causing seismic tremors that shook the land above and led the monster through torrential flows until they reached the underworld’s maw, where no fish returned and no light dared reside. 

In the tales of our forefishes, it is said that in the trench’s nadir dwelled the deepest waters, where the old gods have slumbered since the days of the great flood.

The battle lasted for hours, slowly turning towards the kraken’s favor. But when hope was all but lost, a great leviathan emerged through the waters.  The Zeedrak lived again! Lennerd van der Veen captained the ship and smashed it against the kraken, plunging the twain down into the deepest deep, never to be seen again.

Living survivors of the battle testified that when they saw the hero right before he dragged the kraken into the maw, his skin was turning that of ultramarine like the merchampions of old. 

For this reason, we encircle the ocean vent and tell his story.

Since those days, every year, we send a brave fish along the deepest depths below. The first excursion was by Lumen the fearless; then followed Morga the physician; and before death could take her, Granny Coelacanth the undying traversed the dark abyss.  No one has yet returned, but once upon a moonless night a faint glow of twinkling lights is seen piercing even the deepest trenches. And with each passing year, an extra flicker is spotted accompanying the roving band of sea torches. Today, under the reign of King Jones III, we hope and pray to Oceanus so that one day, all the brave little fishies will return with our sunken champion like a great rapture of the deep.