Moala and the Goddess of the Sea

Moala dove into the cold sea, looking for anything of value from the sunken merchant ship. Gold coins reflected light from the sea bed. Her lungs felt ready to burst, but she kicked and managed to reach out a hand and grasp several before having to maneuver herself back up to gasp air.

Treading water at the surface, she tucked a coin into a hidden belt pouch and handed the rest to the rough hand extended in her direction. The water was cold, but the wind made her colder. Euchon, her master, had no sympathies for her. He bit the coin and sorted it with the other baubles, mostly pottery and the occasional ornament or tool pulled from the sea floor.

The coin she saved would be her gift to the goddess of the sea. There were far worse occupations for a female slave despite her looks. She was grateful that her occupation was diving for treasure off the coast. She could feel free for a few moments.

Years of enslavement meant she looked like someone who had never experienced joy, love, or freedom. Her eyes were round, her nose blunt, and she had lost her teeth to malnutrition. Her hair had been shaved to make it easier for her dives. She welcomed the ugliness of her looks. Dehumanized, she was safer from groping hands.

Soren, her mentor, burst to the surface, blowing water and phlegm from his face as he came. He had pulled a silver bar up from the sea bed in both hands.

His head was also clean-shaven. He was a stunted young man with wiry muscles and a body covered in tattoos. From the day she had joined Euchon's enterprise, he had taught her the ways of the divers. In her short life, kindness had always led to betrayal. She remained wary of him, everyone, and everything.

The whites of Euchon's eyes brightened with glee as he lifted the silver into the boat. The divers would be allowed to stop early. They would be fed a warm meal tonight and allowed to bask in the heat of a charcoal brazier before repeating their dives tomorrow morning.

The alarm horns sounded from the lookout in the harbor. Two long tones repeated several times - warning of a storm on the horizon. Euchon hefted a heavy rope into the water. Soren grasped it while catching hold of Moala's wrist before she could be left behind. The rope was raised as quickly as it had fallen into the water. They both clambered wet and cold into the boat.

Moala wanted to be left behind. Her family had drowned during a sea crossing. Her survival proved that the Goddess of the Sea favored her. Nevertheless, her rescuers put her to work. When they realized she was clumsy and slow, good for nothing, they sold her into slavery. Being blessed by the Goddess granted her the privilege of being near or on the water working for fisherfolk or diving to salvage treasure.

As a female entering adulthood, the waters were much safer than when she was on dry land. The men now saw her less as a child and more as a woman. She shuddered hard and not from the cold and wet.

"We won't make it, Euchon; they are closing the harbor gates." Euchon's corpulent brother Castor called from where he handled the sails and rudder.

Euchon grunted a series of curses. Soren and Moala shivered as the wind picked up. They both knew what exposure to the storm surge and waves would do to the tiny vessel. Perhaps there would be an end to their miserable existence.

"Sacrifice. We need a sacrifice." He looked at the quivering pair. "Girl."

"No." Soren tried to come between Euchon and Moala.

"Get back, boy." His tone was dangerous. "The goddess of the waters will take her."

"Goddess can have me." They both spoke at the same time. Soren glared at her. She had not realized she meant anything to him. She felt a strange sense of gratitude towards him.

"She goes willingly. The best type of sacrifice."

Euchon had drawn his long knife.

The boat tilted at that moment, pitching all occupants to one side of the boat. With the men's weight atop Moala, she felt the railing and what was possibly Euchon's drawn knife cut through her waist. The boat pitched yet again, and in shock, she saw her legs separate from her body.

Moala felt herself sinking into the depths of the sea as she was pulled and twisted in every direction. She fanned out her hands, trying to figure out up from down as her body bled out its last breath.

"Goddess, grant me peace." She shouted with her mind, water entering her lungs as her body was crushed under a wall of water.

"Moala!" It was Soren. He had found her. For years she had been the inspiration that kept him going. She shared a passion for diving like he. He swam towards her lifeless body as another wave came crashing down, and they were lifted together with the swell. His body bent unnaturally as he was transformed.

"Goddess, help us!" He cried out to a mouthful of seawater as he reached out to grasp her outstretched wrist, now lifeless, one more time. The two were pounded by crushing waves.

Pain in the darkness. Water everywhere. Chest burning. Air. Need air.

Then there was calm. The storm cleared, giving way to a flat crystalline sea.

The next day the bodies of Euchon and Castor unceremoniously washed up on shore. The slaves Soren and Moala were not found.

Two strange fish appeared that day. They could be seen swimming in both the ocean's depths and at the surface - a swim bladder for buoyancy did not limit them. Unlike other fish, they used their dorsal and anal fins to swim. They also had the uncanny ability to handle cold water temperatures. With the sun out, the fish would finish a deep dive by warming their bodies in the sun by lying sideways. These peaceful fish also had an exoskeleton to keep them safe from predators. Fishermen were baffled by the gentle giants.

This is how the Goddess rescued Moala and Soren, allowing them to enjoy her world free from persecution and restraint. They would dive together and rise to the surface to sun themselves in contentment for the rest of their days, giving rise to the Mola Mola or Sunfish.

Cover Photo credit: By OpenCage - [1], CC BY-SA 2.5