[SPN]"Sea of Ages" (PG)
Feb. 21st, 2012 01:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for Supernatural, Michael, He doesn't allow himself the luxury now, but Michael loved to dive beneath the sea and stay there for hours.
Michael's memories were his own and he did not share them with others willingly, unless prodded to reveal them. Even then, there were things which he would not admit to, among the most cherished being his memories of how he used to dive beneath the seas and swim there for hours, even days, during the earliest days, when the Father first created that blue planet, spinning it forth from the dust and gasses that collected in orbit around a yellow star on the outer edge of the Milky Way galaxy...
The seas still boiled as they flowed over the molten eart, still being sorted into a fluid and not a mess of gases, but Michael still dove into them, testing this new body of matter.
An age later, when the water had calmed into a fluid, Michael dove in again, diving so hard and deep that the still soft earth beneath it pushed up masses of itself that would cool into islands. Other times, his strokes would push the still shifting plates together, to form landmasses and continents.
Later still, when the earth had cooled, he would dive in to swim with the creatures his Father had shaped, the mollusks and the trilobites, the first simple fishes starting to spread their awkward fins like clumsy wings.
An age later, as the seas teamed with myriad kinds of fishes, Michael lay floating on the surface, watching one fish flop its way onto the shore of an island. His older brother the Light-Bearer gently held back one of their younger, clumsier brothers, warning him to be careful of that small grey creature, taking the first steps on dry land made by a mortal creature.
Time passed, fewer kinds of fish swam in the sea, but the waters still teamed with life, with reptiles that looked like fish and others with long, snakey necks and limbs like fins. One pair would be trapped in a small inland sea on an island, a pair he would visit from time to time over the ages.
The numbers of the reptiles dwindled, but his Father shaped more creatures: fur-covered creatures with warm blood, who carried their young beneath their hearts rather than laying eggs in nests, would venture out into the waters, their limbs turning paddle-like and their fur diminishing as their heads grew larger and flatter, their necks fusing with their bodies.
They were not the only warm-blooded creatures to venture into the water: a species that now dominated the earth, creatures half of earth and half of heaven ventured onto the water in craft made of wood went out upon the deep. Their boats and the way that they used them -- to hunt the fish and the whales to feed their ever-growing numbers -- disrupted the order in the seas as much as their buildings and their farms disrupted the order on the land. It was for this reason, among others, that he began to despise this new creature upon whom his Father lavished so much attention....
Michael's memories were his own and he did not share them with others willingly, unless prodded to reveal them. Even then, there were things which he would not admit to, among the most cherished being his memories of how he used to dive beneath the seas and swim there for hours, even days, during the earliest days, when the Father first created that blue planet, spinning it forth from the dust and gasses that collected in orbit around a yellow star on the outer edge of the Milky Way galaxy...
The seas still boiled as they flowed over the molten eart, still being sorted into a fluid and not a mess of gases, but Michael still dove into them, testing this new body of matter.
An age later, when the water had calmed into a fluid, Michael dove in again, diving so hard and deep that the still soft earth beneath it pushed up masses of itself that would cool into islands. Other times, his strokes would push the still shifting plates together, to form landmasses and continents.
Later still, when the earth had cooled, he would dive in to swim with the creatures his Father had shaped, the mollusks and the trilobites, the first simple fishes starting to spread their awkward fins like clumsy wings.
An age later, as the seas teamed with myriad kinds of fishes, Michael lay floating on the surface, watching one fish flop its way onto the shore of an island. His older brother the Light-Bearer gently held back one of their younger, clumsier brothers, warning him to be careful of that small grey creature, taking the first steps on dry land made by a mortal creature.
Time passed, fewer kinds of fish swam in the sea, but the waters still teamed with life, with reptiles that looked like fish and others with long, snakey necks and limbs like fins. One pair would be trapped in a small inland sea on an island, a pair he would visit from time to time over the ages.
The numbers of the reptiles dwindled, but his Father shaped more creatures: fur-covered creatures with warm blood, who carried their young beneath their hearts rather than laying eggs in nests, would venture out into the waters, their limbs turning paddle-like and their fur diminishing as their heads grew larger and flatter, their necks fusing with their bodies.
They were not the only warm-blooded creatures to venture into the water: a species that now dominated the earth, creatures half of earth and half of heaven ventured onto the water in craft made of wood went out upon the deep. Their boats and the way that they used them -- to hunt the fish and the whales to feed their ever-growing numbers -- disrupted the order in the seas as much as their buildings and their farms disrupted the order on the land. It was for this reason, among others, that he began to despise this new creature upon whom his Father lavished so much attention....
