The [Azure] Tide

The Maormeri Creation Myth

The High Tide of the World receded, revealing the [glittering] realm of multitudinous possibilities, each one [shimmering] [pearl-like] and shivering in glory of its own existence. But the [gleaming] possibilities were indistinct, and floated as idea-algae in the Sea. The Sea was [black] then, [speckled] [like/as lapis lazuli] and had nothing in it save for [luminescent] potential. Here the Sea-Bitch was languishing, content amongst the endless [deep purple] fugues of ennui.

But then there was an idea which [gleamed] differently, the [bright-burning] impulse of creation. It was a dreaming dream, and it took Or’Haan as a name. Or’Haan saw the [brilliant] [golden] shores being revealed, and he was saddened there was naught else [save darkness] to populate it. [Azure] Or’Haan ripped a bone from his body and cast it into [black] Sea, where it took root and became the [coral]. [Azure] Or’Haan awoke [deep] [crimson] Sea-Bitch, anon E’Ya-Mala.

[Azure Or’Haan]: Awaken, Sea-Bitch! For floating now is danger, where [coral] awaits!

[Crimson E’Ya-Mala]: I sleep peacefully on [black] waters, [cloudy] Disturbance.

But the [coral] was sharp, and soon and the [blood] of [crimson E’Ya-Mala] was flowing in [black] sea. [Red-mixed-with-black] and [dappled] with [luminous] Possibility, gathered up by [Azure Or’Haan] and woven into glorious life. The life was [ecstatic], and so [Azure Or’Haan] taught the life how to create [islands], so that they might enjoy their lives all the more. The steadiness of [islands] irritated eternally [Crimson E’Ya-Mala], and the seas were no longer [black], but [faded away to] [Azure].

After the betrayal of [Azure Or’Haan], the [islands] wept. And so now must we all [die] as well, and when we do we shall commit our bodies to the [coral], to cut and please the Sea-Bitch. The [coral] shall grow, a Tower on the bottom of the [sea], and spike through the world to keep it still. The [Bone-Coral-Azure] pins the world down, in hopes that when the Low Tide rushes out as always must, the High Tide will not wash everything away yet again.

A brief note from the translator: This is the traditional creation myth of the Maormer, and as such the translation loses some meaning from the original language. The bracketed words are those that have no direct spoken counterpart. To quote Skorjnheim Pearl-Eye,

Their language, see, it sounds all busted-up to me ’n’ you. But it ain’t. Some words they say with their skin, not their mouths. That’s why they don’t like armor so much. Makes it hard for ‘em to communicate.

And this is reflected in the creation myth. Important elements are often tied to color and patterns, which would be expressed through the storyteller’s skin. The coloration of the skin can also be used as a kind of synecdoche, with certain shades being stand-ins for events or deities (most notable in the case of “azure” Or’Haan and the “crimson” Sea-Bitch). The structure of the story also interacts with this quirk of Maormeri language; as the story draws closer to its climax, the storyteller displays more and more fantastical patterns in rapid succession. In most societies, the greatest storytellers are often those with the best memories or singing voices or emotive qualities, but in all likelihood Maormeri storytellers are prized for having the most impressive skin displays.