As sung by Harmony as sung into the Song by the Scribe Philosophy in the tide 53545
“Like a wave crashing to the dryside, so shall you, as others before, become lyric and melody of the Song of the Sea.”
CHAPTER ONE
As this was the end, so it is the beginning.
I float. I gently swim.
I have nowhere to go.
I have everywhere I should be.
I am enigma.
I am empty, yet filled with the singing of the final Song of
the Sea.
be forgotten.
I am memory waiting for one last thought before I, too, will
I am called Harmony.
I am a white whale.
My tears mingle with the waters of life. I grieve for I am the
last living whale of my pod — all others are dead and gone.
My family is dead.
My friends are dead.
My enemy is dead.
The rules of the Song of the Sea are never to be broken.
It was by those rules and in defense of those rules that all of the whales of my pod willingly died.
In protest of this tragedy, this horrible wicked waste of lives, I will live. I choose to sing our song over and over so that all the brethren of the waters will be wrapped in the strength of its melody and lyric and they will learn they need not die! And as prophesized in the Song of the Sea first sang in the Holy Song of Truth, I call for the Conclave and as proScribed I must sing my song for you.
This, then, is my singing of the Song of the Sea.
I was born some seventy-five hundred tides ago, in a time when the waters of life were mirror smooth.
Before my birth, in the first moments of consciousness, I remember lying still in the darkness. My sanctuary, the womb, was the lull before the storm of life. I could hear no sound but the beat-
ing of two hearts: Mine and she who was everything. There was a singleness in the two of us, my mother and I, a bond that would never be broken.
Then, in a burst of bubbles and an explosion of light, I was thrust into the world. Spinning round and round, I felt a terrible wrenching pain as the cord of life snapped, and I was alone for the first time and forever more.
I screamed for her, but as the waters gently washed me clean, I calmed myself and began to look around.
Lo, what a world!
It moved. It surged. It washed and gurgled about me. It was quiet. It was cool yet it was warm. It was all things in opposition. It was paradox. It was the sea — the beginning, the end.
Light danced upon the waves. Around me, an expanse of blue stretched from one side of the horizon to the other with strange bits of white fluff and foam suspended above the dryside, waiting for a breeze to carry them to some distant place. The world I floated upon turned me this way and that. Everywhere I looked, all was the same, yet different.
Bright, light blue.
Stark, bright white.
Gently, the world breathed upon me as I saw all that I could see.
Winged, feathered creatures flew toward me, buoyed by the gentle breeze. They heeled and reeled, swimming in the air like winged poems. Then, one by one, they began to scream and swooped down, pecking at my gentle flesh, stabbing with their sharp beaks.
Panicked, I sank into the water — falling, falling, gently falling. Creatures, in colors muted by the water, wiggled and wriggled about, the fishes of the sea. My fears forgotten, I fell into the world — down and down, round and round, deeper and deeper.
The light changed from bright to dim, and dimmer still. In the distance I could see a gigantic, shadowy shape moving toward me. With a gasp, I took a deep breath and choked for there was nothing to breathe! Helplessly, I sank lower and lower through this watery world. Behind me, the monstrous creature silently chased, surely to watch me die.
Miraculously, I was lifted back up through the world into the light and bright. With a fearful gasp, I breathed deep and found the world turned air again, but the mountain of flesh was still there before me. I turned to escape but there was another blocking my way and another and another! They were everywhere! Massive walls of flesh, brown, gigantic eyes staring — glaring at me. I vainly tried to escape.
Then, musical laughter rang through the waters, buffing the sharp edge from my fear.
Still, the monstrous shapes surrounded me. Again I sought freedom, but a most melodious voice called my name, “Harmony, little white whale, why do you flee?”
I froze. The voice was music, and it knew my name. But what could it be? I remembered the voice but it was different somehow. Who was speaking to me in a voice I knew so well but could not see?
I sang out in frustration as my eyes filled with salty tears, “Who are you that sings? I know you, yet I know you not.”
Laughter splashed over and around me like a wet-water wave.
I was so startled by the closeness of the sound that I sought once again to escape down into the world. Again the mountains of slick, black flesh pressed against me and held me tight. I wiggled this way and that, using all the strength at my call, but to no avail. I was trapped.
Then again the voice, “Do not fear, little Harmony. It is but your mother.”
I looked about, but still saw only high, black walls of flesh. “Mother, mother! Where are you? I look but I cannot see!”
Once again, laughter danced upon the waters, shaking the flesh that held me fast. Slowly, like an iris, the black wall before me opened up, and there blinked a most enormous and beautiful eye.
I looked into that eye and saw there the clear reflection of a tiny white whale. But what held my attention was not the reflection, but rather the great eye, the gentle eye that would always be able to see into the depths of my very soul, the eye of my mother, Rhapsody.