Ritual

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It was not long now before the sunset and Harin knew that he would have to hurry. The first day of spring had come and the Kraken would need to be appeased if the village was to have an unhindered fishing year.

“Hurry up Harin,” Taris shouted from the waiting boat.

“Don’t rush us,” Harin replied. “We still need to say the words.”

Harin’s brother, Tarin, poured the scented oil over the offering and Harin began the incantation.

“So be it,” they said in unison as spell ended and the last drop of oil fell upon the offering.

“Now lets get back to the village before it arrives to take its tribute,” Tarin urged, and the two brothers joined their cousin in the boat and pulled with all their might to distance themselves from the sacrifice rock.

They knew that in the morning all of the offerings would be gone except for a few bones. They didn’t want theirs to be among them.

Thus the spring ritual ended. The village would indeed have a successful fishing season. No great storms would wreck their habour. The boats would again all return from their daily fishing.

As for the Kraken, no one was really sure if it really appeciated the tribute, but safe was safe. Besides, the gulls all seemed to enjoy the leftovers.


Padre

Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #113

Mer-Realm

man in black shorts in water

Jack Delulio at Unsplash

Curious air-breather be careful what you seek

For the Mer-realm – despite its mystique

Is a place of hazard beyond the limits of your physique

And it’s a place of peril, if you go too deep

Return you to the surface

And make this not your grand mistake

But stick to your world of dryness

Or face the sleep from which you never wake


Padre

Depths’ Call

CCC #119

How far shall we descend?

How deep shall we dare to go?

How far out into the tide?

Is a question hard to know

Shall we wander away from land

Far from the realm of breath and air

Into the depths of Nepture’s lair

Where cold fingers of death may enclose?

Trouble me not with warnings shrill

Of tidings of impending doom

For the waters call to our mariners’ hearts

And I think they forever will


Padre

CCC #119