“Not even the Iberian pirates sail here,” Manuel said while adjusting the harness straps across his chest. “They say the depths are cursed.”
“They probably spread the rumor to keep their treasure safe!” Carlos replied, getting in one last chuckle before putting in his mouthpiece. The sylph-generated oxygen entered his lungs.
Carlos turned away from Manuel and lumbered across the deck of the skiff towards Luisa and Antonio. The two treasure-hunters were sitting on the edge of the small craft clipping weight belts to their waists.
Carlos moved slowly and hunched over to compensate for the 40 kilograms twin-hose aluminium double-tank aqualung rig strapped to his back. He sat down on the skiff’s edge by his additional gear: two extra lamps for safety, each diver always had two backups, some net sacks to retrieve any valuables discovered, and the guideline, which he’d be responsible for.
Carlos was eager for the weightlessness promised by the sea.
“Maybe the pirates drown in the cave while hiding their gold. Their loss, our gain, right?” Antonio said with a smirk. The playboy winked his eye at Manuel and inserted his mouthpiece.
“May God rest their souls if that’s true,” Manuel said. The action of lowering his goggles over his eyes was quickly followed by the sign of the cross across his wetsuit.
“Hell, if they’re still shambling around down there,” Louisa added, “they’ll take a celestium spear to the head!” Louisa raised her speargun like a proud warrior. In went her mouthpiece.
“People go missing down there and yet you all joke,” Manuel said. “What kind of treasure gains its value in corpses?” Manuel mumbled more to himself than to be heard by anyone in particular.
Manuel shuffled over to the other three deep sea adventurers and placed in his mouthpiece.
There would be no more talking from here on in.
Manuel activated his headlamp. He raised a hand to the captain and the navigator, signalling that the four explorers were about to dive into the sea.
Carlos ensured the guideline was secured to the boat and was the first off the boat. Then, one by one, the divers fell backwards over the side of the skiff into the cold and still waters of the Noxpraeterium Sea.
Manuel let his body sink a few feet before kicking out with his flippers to straighten and turn his body. Manuel placed his arms close and kept his breathing calm to conserve oxygen. After a few kicks downward, the bottom of the skiff was gone. The night sky and stars were gone.
The darkness of the deep stretched out beyond him.
The light from Manuel’s headlamp was barely enough to make out the forms of his descending colleagues, their forms mildly silhouetted by the glow of their own light sources.
Going down was the easy part, Manuel thought.
Ten minutes later, and the team was 200 metres below the surface, at the mouth of the fabled cave. The sylph-elemental didn’t only help fill their lungs with pure oxygen due to a symbiotic process, it also powered a propeller unit attached to their tanks. It would take the explorers hours to return to the surface as they’d have to schedule stops along the way to avoid the bends. They’d be lucky if they could get back to the skiff before sunrise.
Carlos secured the guideline to an anchor point outside the cave entrance. Antonio and Louisa settled in behind him. Carlos turned to give them a thumbs up.
Manuel descended and joined the group; he gave them an affirmative wave. Carlos nodded and entered the cave, taking point with the guideline into the darkness.
Thirty minutes had slipped by as the treasure hunters glided through the cave’s passages. Their headlamps did a superb job of lighting up the tunnels along the way. Up ahead, though, beyond a ninety-degree turn that his team had already cleared, Manuel could see Carlos bathed in a luminescent golden glow that came from a larger cavern within.
There was about twenty feet between Carlos and Manuel. Antonio and Louisa moved along, an equal distance apart, excited about their discovery.
Manuel had stopped moving. He was certain that treasure didn’t glow–and no matter how impressive their headlamps were, they weren’t strong enough to fill an entire area with a glowing aura.
Carlos and Antonio entered the cavern. Louisa glanced back at Manuel and motioned for him to keep up with the group. The passage between Manuel and Louisa was lit with two crisscrossing lamp lights for a moment, until Lousa entered the cavern. Manuel reluctantly guided himself down the dark tunnel towards the glowing chamber.
Manuel stopped himself at the cavern entrance. The room was, indeed, filled with treasure. Dozens of wooden chests, ancient unrecognizable armours and weapons, and art objects in the shape of sea creatures he had never seen.
The most impressive object in the area wasn’t the treasure, though: it was an enormous sea anemone… a glowing one. The lit-up sea cavern must have been thirty feet high; this sea plant’s tentacle limbs–hundreds of them–brushed against the stone surface above. The basal disk was thick, easily twenty feet in diameter.
Antonio was near the basal disk inspecting a breastplate made of gold and coral.
Carlos was drifting near the swaying tentacles above them, enthralled by the immensity of the sea plant.
Louisa had her celestium spear harpoon at the ready. Her eagerness and curiosity quickly fading.
Manuel was still at the entrance when a low vibration spread out from the sea anemone. Manuel could feel it in his eardrums.
And then all was dark. Even their headlamps were extinguished.
Manuel scrambled for his backup lamp. He flipped the on-switch. A beam of white light cut through the deep darkness, and Manuel pointed it into the cavern.
In the next three second of his life, Manuel knew it was all over for the divers. They wouldn’t make it to the surface. This was their last deep sea treasure hunt.
Carlos floated limply, half way into the giant sea anemone’s tentacle mass, the ancient breastplate slipping from his fingers.
Antoine was subdued by three tentacles, one of them firmly around the exposed skin of his checks. He looked like a marionette, Manuel thought.
Louisa’s legs were entangled by one extended tentacle, while she held off another with her speargun. She stopped struggling when the tentacle touched her exposed hand.
Louisa’s speargun arm floated behind her. A muscle spasm, brought on by the paralyzing poison of the anemone tentacle, caused her to fire the celestium spear in Manuel’s direction. It narrowly missed his head and pierced his rebreather tank instead.
All this, Manuel saw in three slow seconds. His lungs hurt as the sylph-elemental was expelled from his tank. Without the sylph-elemental, his body’s adaptability to the higher pressure at these depths was reduced significantly.
The sylph-elemental was a primal creature. If given the opportunity to be free, it would take it. Unfortunately, at this depth, the oxygen content in the water was as fatal for the sylph as it was for Manuel.
Bubbles gathered around the tank as the sylph rebuilt its bird-like elemental form. It panicked when it realized it was nowhere near the air. It even struggled to re-enter the rebreather tank, but it was too late. The damage was done. The sylph’s essence was corrupted and it was dissipating.
Manuel’s eyes glossed over as he watched his three colleagues disappear into the anemone’s mass. It was the last thing he saw as he began to lose consciousness. He’d drown before he was rescued.
“The Belly of the Deep Sea Cavern” by Nuno Teixeira © 2012, XEI
Licensed under the Creative Commons License By-NC-SA
You can share and distribute this story, but can NOT make profit off it, and MUST share it freely as well with the same CC-License indicated above.
You MUST include the proper Attribution with the shared story:
“Written by Nuno Teixeira, © 2011, XEI, http://www.nunoxei.com”
Flash Fiction Commentary for “Bartering Immortality”
Each of the flash fiction releases for the “Figments” series are inspired by a creature entry found in the OGL product, “Minions: Rebirth” by Bastion Press. I’ve just recently come to realize that the entirety of the book’s contents are deemed “open game content”. I can’t encourage OGL gamers enough to pick up this book, the digital “Minions: Rebirth” is available at DriveThruRPG.
The flash fiction connected to this blog post (“Bartering Immortality“) is released under the Creative Commons License (By-NC-SA) and is published as a different post to keep the licenses separate (for legal reasons).
Commentary
The “owliksir” used in the flash fiction, “Bartering Immortality“, comes from the creature entry for the “amberjuron” on page 3 of “Minions: Rebirth” by Bastion Press. I very nearly skipped this entry for days, deeming it not relevant to Hellmouth. Re-reading it again, I challenged myself to MAKE it relevant.
Before the concept of the plot came to mind–concerning the Philosopher’s Stone–I started to research the owl. I wasn’t a fan of the name “amberjuron”; it just didn’t feel right to me. I wanted to work in some sort of word play, or dig up some sort of etymological reference, something that’s come before that could add an additional layer to the creature’s concept.
This led me to the horned owl and its genus term, “bubo”. I was convinced I’d get some derivitive name off that… but alas “bubo” comes from the Greek base “groin” and “the swelling of nymph nodes”. Although, the connection to “bubonic plague” was intriguing, I resolved in letting this naming direction slide.
This did lead me to start reading about other “bubo” genus owls–this led me to the barn owl. The barn owl felt like a perfect fit to me as it reflected the idea of for an owl-cat arcane-collector wonderfully. I imagined the creatures as hermits, and this got me my story location: A barn. Imagining where an owl-cat thing like this could make its home, I imagined Cavallon. If there’s anywhere in the Breachspace setting with some relatively “quiet abandoned countrysides”, it’d be the England-inspired country equivelent.
From there, somehow, I was led to looking up alchemy, which in turn led me to the Philosopher’s Stone. That gave me the object being traded for. While researching the Philosopher’s Stone, it’s historical relevance, the alchemists involved in its lore, I discovered that the 8th-century Persian alchemist Jabir ibn Hayyan theorized that any metal could become another metal, a process called ”al-iksir” in Arabic. Not only did the Western term “elixir” come from al-iksir, but I all-of-a-sudden had the word-play I need. Thus, the “owliskir” came into being.
Quick References:
Horned Owl
Bubo
Philosopher’s Stone