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FrettzoShengshi put his clawed hands on his hips and looked around. More and more of his siblings zoomed off into that great, dark yonder - leaving the lookout quite empty, like it had been a mere moment ago. The snake gave a gentle sigh and shot the blinking crystal vessels an expectant look. A hand on one of those shards and his work would begin, he thought to himself. A somewhat anxious clump formed in the snake's belly. Shengshi rolled his shoulders, clapped and rubbed his hands together, and then began to slither towards the crystals.
Or so he would have, had he not slithered into clacking crawler called Ohannakeloi, who Shengshi thought still seemed rather lost. He looked down at his smaller brother with a smile.
"Dear brother Ohannakeloi, that's not the way to the crystals! They're over there!" Shengshi patted the crab on its shell and slithered on past towards the crystals. Shengshi touched the crystal absent-mindedly and soared off deep in thought. First, he needed a proper home: One that would welcome all his siblings; one that would please his aesthetic requirements; and one that would inspire millennia of poetry and tales.
A river, no, ten rivers! No! His eyes glistened with inspiration. A thousand-hundred-thousand rivers! With only specks of mud and soil in between! A true home for himself. A thought passed through him - one remembering his more elemental siblings. A being of fire like Sartravius would naturally not be welcome in a realm such as Shengshi described. This perplexed the snake as he grabbed onto his crystal and shot off into the empty space. How would a realm satisfying to him also welcome the presence of a being of pure, unrelenting flames? How could it be made comfortable to it?
A castle, perhaps? One of stone? Shengshi waved the thought away and muttered to himself. A stone castle wasn’t a pleasing sight to him, and it would likely sink in the wetlands. How about a castle of metal? Shengshi frowned in disappointment at his lacking creativity. A castle of metal was even worse on the eye than stone! It would also outshine the rivers in the moonlight, which was an atrocious thought.
How would he write poetry about his beautiful rivers, then, if the castle was prettier? No, no, no, it could -not- be so.
As the crystal carried Shengshi closer and closer to the watery world of Galbar, the snake felt his imagination grow more barren by the minute. He decided to leave the idea for now - he approached his new home.
The crystal halted a few feet off the water’s surface. This was not Galbar, however. This was an empty plane of water, occasionally interrupted by a tiny clump of clay that managed to break through the dull waves. While this world shared many traits with the Middle World, the area was smaller; the waters, fresher. Shengshi sensed potential. He swam around for a few hours, surveying his new home. The waters stuck deep in some places and merely covered the ground in others. Still, Shengshi thought, this plane was incomplete. It had no flow. That was the first quality that required change. However, the snake knew not how.
He swam around for what felt like weeks in the clear waters devoid of life and motion. The colour of the water had whitened his eyes to the point where there was no colour left. Shengshi’s reflection intrigued him, but was likewise a frightening image - a lord of a dead stream - no, a lake.
A push.
Shengshi whirled around with a sudden swiftness that caused colossal waves to shoot out around him. He remained completely still, disturbed only by the water rings he made himself.
There it was again.
Shengshi did not hesitate. The god kicked off and rocketed down into the depths. He felt it - a flow. He redoubled his speed, causing the water in front of him to boil. He arrived, finally, at the brink of a great pit into the depths. The hole expelled a weak force - but a force nonetheless.
Flow, Shengshi thought. This was it. Shengshi dove into the hole. The tunnel stretched for miles, but soon, it split into uncountable smaller tunnels and holes, most too small for Shengshi to enter. He tasted the waters from a subset of the holes - each flavour met his tongue differently - some being rich and soily; others, weak and metallic. The colours also differed, but not enough to be particularly noticable. Shengshi nodded to himself and propelled himself back up. This would be the centre of his home, but he needed to empower it.
The snake reached the surface of the water. There, he took a deep breath and raised his arms. The waters began to stir, then quiver, and finally flow away from him. The waters around him gave way to spots of fertile, unsown mud and sand, covered by the dark lake since the dawn of this universe. As the waters pulled away, more and more land peeked up from beneath the frothing waves. It was then immediately swallowed again. Then it came back. This cycle sanded plots until they were smooth and round and dragged the mud and sand along to colour the waters beige. The god found himself standing on a such plot before long, the area around him growing ever drier. He took a moment to look around - where was all the water going? He quickly turned back, however, to see the fruits of his labour.
A ring of foam and mud formed in the water before him. The water within the ring began pouring over the foam, further pushing away what little water remained around it. A black, grey and brown wall of stone and dirt soon lifted the ring up into the air, curving outwards first at a sharp slope, then flattening out as it got taller, water crashing down its sides at all times. Shengshi gazed upward as the hill became a mountain, then clapped his hands together. There was a blinding flash and the quakes ceased. The only sounds were Shengshi’s ragged breathing and the drums of water smashing against stone. He bent forward, a little too far, perhaps, and shivered a little from the imbalance. He regarded his abdomen for a moment, finding that the poem had, thankfully, not been smudged. I suppose that’s godblood for you, Shengshi thought to himself. He then looked up. The mountain stood as a lonely pyramid in the middle of endless wetlands, with what nearly amounted to a volcanic torrent of water shooting up from the caldera on its peak. The rivers that poured down around the mountain flowed out in every direction, bringing with them the colours and flavours from the caldera’s deep. Shengshi wiped some sweat off his forehead, brushed his black hair to the side and faced the mountain with a fanged grin of pride on his face.
“I shall name you Shiquan - the world spring!” The snake drew the characters 世泉 into the mud at his feet.
“Forever shall you supply all worlds with waters fresh and clear!” There was another flash and the characters in the mud turned to stone, unyielding even in the face of floods. As if to confirm it understood its purpose, the caldera at the mountain’s peak shot forth streams more powerful than before, nearly breaking its walls apart. Shengshi gave a satisfied nod and turned on his tail. He surveyed the sphere - it was empty, still, but more land had been revealed from under the rivers. Yet the world was still grey and brown - not much to write about, Shengshi thought. That also had to change.
Shengshi, using all his strength, swam up the waterfalls along the newly formed world spring mountain. Once at the top, Shengshi surveyed all-under-Shiquan. He raised both hands and exclaimed, “The flow is formed - come and drink in it!” The spots of land were soon covered in green grasses and small shrubberies. Some of the innumerable rivers grew verdant with algae. The mountain sprouted vines and grass around the waterfalls. Yes, this was a realm he could be proud of. His rivers were still rather empty, though. They needed something - life! Shengshi picked up a fistful of mud. Yes, something to enjoy his world! He fashioned the wet mud into, well, the first thing he could think of - a shape much like his own. He admired his handsome work for a moment. Would not that be interesting - a world filled with miniatures of himself. Why not, he decided.
“You, dear creation, shall be-...!”
A grain of sand on the wind tickled his nostrils. Shengshi shivered and rubbed his nose with a clawed hand.
“Ach-.. Ugh… As I said, you shall be-...!”
Another gust tickled him some more. The snake inhaled in a hacking manner before unleashing a ferocious sneeze upon the mud clump, which soared out of his palm and off the side of the mountain. Shengshi slithered to the edge in a hurry. There was a splash below. Shengshi let out a disappointed sigh.
Then there was another splash.
Shengshi raised an eyebrow and looked closer. There was something in the river. Suddenly, the rings around where the mud clump had fallen gave way to several smaller rings and lines in the water. They were… Worms? A bundle of simple worm in the colour of rivermud flopped their way through the water, feasting on the algae blooms. Shengshi scratched his head. He still had much to learn about his powers, he supposed.
“Uhm… Yes! You shall, uh, you shall be the Mudsnake! Or… Mud Worm, I suppose. Yes, mud worm!” He wrote the characters 泥虫 in the mud at his tail. ”You shall, uh, feast on algae and, uh, swim around in the water! You shall also be food to larger beasts of the rivers! To help you in that endeavor, your eggs will be shielded with earth as long as they are laid in my rivers. Good luck on your journey, little friend!” As if to show they had heard his commands, the worms flailed around in the water for a bit before swimming on to their destinations.
Shengshi coughed a little and licked his lips. He was thirsty. He bent down and had a sip of the water in the spring. Wait, what was that flavour? He licked the insides of his mouth an additional time before having another sip. A bit of… Tang? Shengshi froze. Who had polluted his rivers?! The snake jumped into the spring and swam down to the bottom. He tasted the water from every hole, but nothing yielded the same flavour. Then, what was it? He swam back up and sat on the waterbank in thought. He had another sip of the water. There it was again. Shengshi keeled over and put his face in his hands. Had he already failed in his mission to keep his waters clean? A few tears rolled down his fingers, one of which splashed into the spring. The water springed ever so gently, but the surface was not water. Shengshi spread his fingers so he could see. What… What was this? Shengshi picked at the surface and it separated into smaller flakes. Upon further inspection, the surface was a gentle shade of brown and yellow. Shengshi scooped up some water with flakes in it and drank it. It gave off a sour flavour and Shengshi felt a gentle warmth in his belly. What… What was this? Upon further analysis, Shengshi concluded that it had to be some strange form of algae or dust. Shengshi sampled some more of it and soon felt the warmth in his belly spread to his hands and head. What… Ish thish? Shengshi thought to himself, grinning. He stood up, but his attempt failed as he struggled to control his tail. The snake laid there of the ground, laughing loudly and vulgarly.
“I musht puh-... Puhur-... presherve thish!” he said to himself, making another fruitless attempt to stand up. He took another handful of the flaky substance. He spilled some of the water it floated in as he brought the hand to his nose. He sniffed the substance and savoured its eggy smell. Was it a plant? A fungus? It did not behave like algae, though. Shengshi sampled the fungus in all ways his clouded mind could think of. He could not exactly decide on what it consisted of, but he believed he understood its function. The water sample also contained dead algae, a kind soft and sweet to the tongue. The flakes had caught the snake’s interest, but they lacked potency. He had, after all, spent probably what amounted to days sampling the substance for its effects. It had to be empowered.
Shengshi brought the flakes to the foot of the mountain, feeling their influence on him fade over time. So it was not permanent. That was, in all fairness, probably for the best, Shengshi thought. Shengshi created a hole in the mud and had four rivers, all carrying different muds and nutrients, pour a little of their water into it, effectively creating a whirlpool. Once the whirlpool was created, Shengshi cast upon it a spell of perpetuity to keep it spinning until he willed it to stop. He then sprinkled the flakes into the whirlpool along with a heaping helping of sweet algae water. For a while, nothing happened. The waters spun around in a dark, muddy mess. The snake felt the sharp sting of disappointment at his failed experiment. However, soon, the waters changed colour. The muddy brown soon gave way to a lighter beige, the water clearing as the flakes absorbed the sacred muds. A frothing foam began to form in the middle of the whirlpool and Shengshi stuck his finger in to taste it. It did not taste great. Shengshi frowned. The waters were now completely clear, save for a pillar of beige foam in the middle. Shengshi took a sip of the waters, grimacing. What had happened? What had gone wro-?!
The snake suddenly collapsed. The warmth was unbearable. Exhaustion flushed his body like a wave washed over a beach. Shengshi made a futile effort to push himself up, his control merely managing to move his arms and tail in a slight flail. He tried to formulate words, but all that came out where alien vowels backed up by slurred consonants. The flavour had been disgusting, yet the effect… Oh yes, the effect.
Shengshi spent the following hours drinking regular river water to purge his body of the substance. He had done it. He had intensified the effects of this magical drink. The source must’ve been the foam - or rather, the beige sand that formed below it. He willed the whirlpool to stop and sampled the sand. It was quite unimpressive on its own, a sort of organic, beige mush with a sulphuric, rank stink. However, after spending the next few days making more whirlpools and testing this mush with different kinds of sweet grasses, water and weeds, Shengshi had realised that the potential of this substance was much greater than he had anticipated. Shengshi rolled his latest batch around in his mouth and swallowed. The flavour was far sweeter and softer than the first batch, but its influence on him was not as powerful. A good balance, he thought, but there was still much to be explored with his new creation.
“But what to call you, I wonder,” Shengshi said and grabbed a handful of mush. “I name you… Hmm…” The snake plucked at his hair. “Ah, yes. You shall be known as Sleeper's sand! Here are your commands: You shall grow for the pleasure of other beings; you shall exist to bring fine drink to all life; and…” Shengshi scratches his chin. “... And you shall only grow in waters that others do not depend on. Would not want to knock out all life in this world.” The yeasted mush gave off a gentle flash and Shengshi poured it back into the whirlpool and wrote down the characters 睡沙酴 in the mud at his tail. He clapped the remains of the yeast off his palm and looked around. “I think I shall call that drink ‘wine’. Yes, wine.”
Now all that remained was a proper place to call home. Shengshi’s mind returned to the thought of a castle. Should it be built upon the world spring, perhaps? Yes, yes, that was a good idea! A grandiose castle upon the world spring! The foundations were strong and stubborn - the rivers could sand at those for aeons without breaking them-...
A loud rumble came from the top of the world spring. Shengshi looked up to the top, his body freezing in the moment. Another rumble. The waterfalls suddenly grew. Shengshi jumped into the closest river and swam to the top of the spring with all his speed, just in time to witness the cataclysmic event.
The steady stream of water from the spring turned into an eruption that knocked Shengshi off the mountain top. The god fell unscathed into the waters below, but the same could not be said about the plant life on the sparse spots of land around him. In the mere blink of his eyes, everything was once again covered in an endless sea of freshwater that flowed in all directions. The god popped his head out of the water and looked around. Occasionally, Shengshi spotted a mud worm or two surface and flop around in confusion. Shengshi was devastated. How… How had this happened? Had he done something wrong? Had he caused some eruption by raising the mountain out of the ground? What was this?!
Shengshi dove down. Through the muddy water, he could see the plant life had all but disappeared. Shengshi did not need to breathe per se, but this terror within him choked him. Had the Architect done this? Had one of his siblings done this? The snake laid down on the riverbed, curled up in a ball, where he wept.
He did not know how much time had passed. Some mud worms had occasionally come up to nibble on him, thinking that his red scale coat perhaps was a strange kind of algae. It took a little while longer before Shengshi realised that the water levels had reduced considerably. The snake opened his tearing eyes, swam up and looked around once he surfaced. The sphere was just as it had been. The islands had shifted, yes, but they were as green as before, if not greener. Around the island banks, colonies of mud worms wriggled around in the spongey clay.
“Wh-... What?”
Shengshi climbed to the top of the world spring and surveyed the land. It had changed, yet it was exactly the same. He wiped a tear of joy and one of fear. Was this a quality of his home? An asterisk in his contract? Shengshi found it abhorring. For the life he had spent his power creating for just to disappear like that. Yet it regrew, stronger than before, even. Shengshi plucked at his dripping hair in deep thought. This made the idea of a home much more complicated…
Some days of thought, poetry and drinking passed. The snake felt lost, imagining home after home that would now be impossible thanks to the dangers of flooding. It was midday. Shengshi slithered into the waters as usual for a swim, rolling over on his back and floating there in a tranquil manner. After a while, he completely stopped paddling and let the current carry him wherever it happened to lead. There, Shengshi fell asleep.
The red light of sunset shone through the pinkish fog on the horizon. Shengshi slowly opened his eyes and stretched. Something was wiggling on his belly. The snake lifted his head to see a pile of mud worms who had, for some reason, decided to feed on Shengshi's leathery skin - a rather futile attempt. The snake let out a gentle sigh and laid his head back in the water again, ignoring the worms. A spark shot through his imagination. Shengshi looked back down on his belly, where the worms still made great efforts to bite through his godly hide. Of course! Shengshi rolled over, catapulting his passengers to a different river far away, and swam back to the world spring at a frightening pace. How could he have been so stupid? If his house would be prone to flooding, he should just build the house on top of something that floats! Shengshi started designing his ship in the mud, drawing out a hull in his own dragonic shape, with a colossal, magnificent castle on top. Yes, it would have guest rooms for all his siblings, servants to service them, and a banquet hall with endless courses! Oh! And a floor for his wine, of course.
The design looked satisfactory - now to bring it into reality. With his hands raised, the god summoned forth several tons of the finest wood planks, jewels, metals, oils, dyes and paints. The planks danced around one another, colliding and bending into an intricately designed hull with a dragon's head and tail. The hull was then promptly infused with sacred, magical oils so that, no matter the storms, no one would unwillingly fall out of it. The oils would also make the hull impervious to the elements, so that all his siblings could stay on the ship regardless of whatever primordial force their forms may expel.
After the hull was made, the god proceeded to the construction of the castle on top. The remaining planks clanked together to form three tall towers, the middle one being the tallest and widest. The middle tower was divided into three sections: a top, a middle and a bottom, each wider than the one above. Its neighbours were divided into two sections under the same principle. Immaculate dragon figurines in gold with aquamarine eyes adorned the green jade roof tiles upon the tall mahogany towers. The round windows were complemented by rich red, silken curtains, and the pillars on every corner were made of bright amber beautifully carved to resemble reptilian hide. Each bedroom was, to its best ability, catered to its respective gods’ size and needs, though his especially large siblings would probably have to sleep on the deck. Still, however, all the rooms sported walls of mahogany, a matress of feathers, silken sheets and an intricately woven, gilded carpet that displayed the respective gods’ symbol.
The feast hall took up the most space, reaching from the base of the tallest middle tower to the very lowest floor of the hull, a distance of nearly fifty feet, half the ship's total height. This hall should be able to accommodate all, Shengshi reasoned. Finally, every room was oiled and painted as the cherry on the extraordinary cake.
It took uncountable days and nights to work in the most intricate details, but at last, it stood finished - a vessel worthy of the Lord of the Thousand Streams and all of his siblings.
“I name you Jiangzhou, the Castle on the River. May you never yield to any flood and may you host ten thousand feasts on and under your deck!” Shengshi carved the characters of the ship's namee into the hull with a clawed finger. As if to answer the order with a plegde of loyalty, the aquamarine eyes of the dragon’s head on the ship's front, as well as the eyes of every other draconic figure onboard, shone with a bright blue light.
One thing remained - servants. Shengshi was, however, exhausted beyond belief from creating the Jiangzhou. The servants thus had to be simple, which he reasoned would not be too much of an issue considering the job requirements. Now, how should his servants be made?
Shengshi first thought of mutating some mud worms, but their slimy, slippery shapes and lack of flat surfaces or appendages did not really suit the servile profession - besides, they would eat all the carpets. Mud golems could be an idea, but he was too weak now. No, it had to be something simpler.
Shengshi sat on the edge of the deck, gazing across his vast realm. The ship created no waves, for the current was the only propellant Shengshi deemed worthy of pushing his vessel. However, some waves crashed against his ship. Shengshi observed the waves.
Another flash of inspiration overcame him.
Shengshi waved his hands, and a stream of water shot up from the rivers below and splashed all over the deck. Shengshi made sure to keep the water moving as to not lose control over it, creating a colossal, flat whirlpool on his deck.
“Droplets of the stream, obey your master!” The whirlpool split apart into ten thousand smaller globs of water that all zoomed around in circles on the deck, frequently through one another. Shengshi continued, “You are hereby granted the title of Deckhands. You will see to all affairs on the ship, serve my guests and me, and, naturally, keep the deck clean.” One of the globs crashed into a wall and immediately broke apart into a puddle. Shengshi raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and, uh, make sure to always stay moving.” He waved a hand once more. “I grant you all the power of reformation. Should you ever fall apart from the lack of movement, you will be flushed overboard and reform in the streams. You may then return to service onboard the Jiangzhou.” As a gesture of respect for their master, all the globules of water stopped, bowed, and subsequently blew up in a spectacle of watery explosions. Shengshi gave a tired sigh and slithered to his master bedroom.
Before long, however, the globules climbed their way back up along the hull and quickly got to work.
Shengshi laid curled up in his massive, masterfully shapen, cotton-filled, silk-upholstered, jade and gold-adorned mahogany stick and river reed basket. He felt more exhausted than he ever had, which was not a considerable milestone, but he liked the comparison anyway. Lastly, his realm needed a name. He had had one in mind since he first arrived, but he had since changed it somewhat. He looked up at the ceiling through the the opening of the basket and wrote the characters absent-mindedly in the air.
“I name you Fengshui Fuyou. You shall bring the clearest, richest water to all realms, from this day until the end of time.”
There was a crackling flash in the sky. The ship picked up its pace. Shengshi stuck his head out of his basket and looked through the window dressed in red, silken drapes which were dancing in the wind. The rivers were doing as they were told - the flow extended its reach to all worlds.
The next day, the snake felt somewhat rested. Shengshi pondered for a bit. He had done so much in his own world, yet his mission did not end here. There was still the question of Galbar and its rivers. Shengshi plucked at his mustache in thought. He could not very well do anything about those from here. Not even the lord of rivers could create rivers across sphere. At least, not yet.
He had to travel there himself.
Shengshi climbed out of his basket and slithered his way to the front of his ship. There, he sat down on the dragon's head, surveying the horizon. The ship was currently sailing a wide and deep river, one of the largest flows to come from the world spring. A fitting place to build a route to the Middle World.
Shengshi erected himself to a standing position and lifted his arms. The river waters in front of the ship began to twist and turn. Soon, the edges of the water lifted off the surface and danced around one another until they created a beautiful knots of river ribbons in the form of an arch. The arch stretched up taller than the ship itself, and the dew and droplets that rained down from the top formed a mirage of the other side - Galbar.
“You are Hemen, the river gate! Forever shall your doors be locked unless one presents one of your two keys: The first key is my command, for I am your creator and master until the end of time; the second key is the head of a dragon. Should any other being present to you the head of a dragon such as this one...” Shengshi gestured to the head of his ship. “... You shall welcome them into my realm. This is your lord's command!” Shengshi drew the characters in the air, and with a bright flash, they sprouted as shapes on the very top of the arch. The water along the gate's borders foamed as if to voice its loyalty. Shengshi nodded in satisfaction.
“Now… To Galbar.”
