Chapter 17
What Lives in the Deep
Today was our last lesson before the midterm. It was difficult concentrating on anything Instructor Garcien said because my anticipatory anxiety had reached critical mass. Henrik’s sprawling clutter around our usual bench seats didn’t help. I shoved his bag toward him with my foot.
Instructor Garcien had already covered a dozen creatures, but I’d have to reread my notes to remember any of it.
“...ders travel in schools, posing a minor threat. They are only dangerous if you’re beside miasma, since they jump out of it. You should never be that close, due to the miasma burn risk. They’re drawn to movement.”
I doodled a picture of the Shredders she spoke about, eerie fish with large mouths, haunting eyes, and pointed teeth.
“Sanguirs are a bigger threat,” she continued.
I remembered a picture of Sanguirs from a book I owned. They were parasitic leeches the size of watermelons that lived in the miasma, and subsisted on the blood and viscera of anything they came into contact with.
“They’re bloodthirsty, and move deceptively quick given their size.
They have limited intelligence and vision, and are attracted to anything that might be their next meal, including each other.
Vibrations, warmth, motion. They latch onto any exposed flesh they can feed from.
They especially enjoy the taste of eyeballs. ”
Delightful. Well wasn’t that a wonderful tidbit that I could never unknow?
“Typically they travel alone, but they will swarm when significant blood is spilled. A single Sanguir can be deadly, so take care if you ever encounter multiple. Hydras are uncommon, but massive and dangerous. The spit within all three jaws is more corrosive than miasma. It eats through bone and rock in seconds. They are aggressive, both to us and to each other, but can be managed with fire, which they fear.”
I shooed a mayfly off my paper with a jittery jerk of my hand.
“The most common creature you’ll face are Cragscales,” she pointed to a lumpy blob with pits for eyes.
“They will attach themselves to the sides of Arcs after they mate. Male Cragscales must be stationary and dry while carrying their eggs to term. And yes, the males carry the egg sacs. You will have to scrape them off the Arc’s hulls periodically, as their presence attracts predators. ”
“Another problematic miasma resident are the Leviathans. They do not like attention, but their size is gargantuan enough that even brushing up against an Arc could throw anyone topside overboard. As a general rule, Arcs should be steered away from any larger creatures. In all recorded cases, Leviathans have swum away from Arcs. We leave them alone, and they leave us alone.”
The Leviathan picture Instructor Garcien was showing us looked more like a poorly cooked noodle on my page. Artistic talent was not in my Tide.
“Riftfloats are another peril you’ll encounter on your journeys to the outer islands.”
Oh goodie. There’s more.
“Though rare, you can see their gelatinous membrane exterior above the surface of the miasma. Their tentacles glow beneath it.”
Huh. What would that look like beneath the miasma sheen?
“They are harmless when isolated, but when two or more fight in a mating display, whirlpools can open up in their wake. If you see more than one Riftfloat, navigate away. The whirlpools are not large enough to threaten an Arc, but the currents they create are strong enough to pull you off course.”
Instructor Garcien held up a wooden carving of a Riftfloat, delicate tentacles extending out from a bulbous head. I tried and failed to capture its likeness.
Veridiana balled up a bit of bark and tossed it toward my foot. She gave it a meaningful glance, then looked at me and back to it.
Picking it up, I unwrapped the bark to read the message she’d scrawled inside.
‘Tyrell told me you need help training. Do you?’
Staring at her, I shook my head ‘No’. She gave me a look of mock-sympathy and shrugged, turning back to face forward.
“The most lethal creatures we have confirmed in the miasma are Krakens,” Instructor Garcien said.
I hunched inward, suppressing a full body shudder. This was the topic I needed before lunch, an excellent way to ensure I wouldn’t be able to eat.
“Krakens are mostly seen around Raevar. The last time one was spotted near Mesmoria, over a dozen seasoned Voyagers died. Many more were injured.”
The memory of the story didn’t just visit my brain, it unpacked and rearranged the furniture.
During the initial work on the now-abandoned bridge, a Kraken had attacked the crew in charge of constructing it at dusk. They’d been building it using planks from a former Arc, the only material durable enough not to be eaten away by miasma.
The Kraken had demolished the planks like the entire structure was a sandcastle. Worse, it had broken the end of the bridge that was closest to Mesmoria, cutting off any chance of escape for the builders. It had killed the entire crew of Sentinels.
“We don’t know what they prefer to eat, or what attracts them.
We don’t know how they mate or how prevalent they are compared to other miasmic life forms. We do know they are vulnerable to piercing weapons.
They are nocturnal, or at least light averse, and they grow larger over time.
Little is known about them, but the Ascendancy’s policy is the same for them as it is for Leviathans–if large, steer clear.
Krakens devastate human life when encountered. ”
Henrik noticed my discomfort, and capitalized on it by wiggling his fingers like tentacles. Sarina elbowed him in the ribs.
The picture of the Kraken I copied down looked nothing like the creative conjurings of my imagination at night.
“What about the Devourer?” Talissa asked when Instructor Garcien paused for a few moments too long.
A few chuckles rippled out from the rows ahead of us.
“The Devourer is unconfirmed,” Instructor Garcien explained with diplomatic readiness. “There have been no survived sightings of it, and thus there is no way to confirm it exists.”
“But the teachings sa–” Instructor Garcien interrupted Talissa.
“The teachings say many things, but that does not make them inherently true. They talk about the Devourer feasting on the nightmares of children, virgins being given to the Kraken as sacrifices, the sparkling once-sea. We have no way of confirming any of those tales as truth.”
“The teachings are sacred,” Talissa argued, aghast. “They’re what guides us to stay true to our Tide!”
“The teachings are yet unproven,” Instructor Garcien said.
“The Ascendancy mandates the teachings to keep civilians safe, but as Voyagers it is our responsibility to recognize the difference between known and unknown dangers. Part of that is to question and try to understand the unknown, to prioritize keeping ourselves and our crewmates safe. You will experience things while aboard Arcs no other citizens ever will. This concludes today’s lessons on the creatures that live in the miasma. ”
She set down her book with a loud thud. Many trainees looked ill after hearing her explanation, including Talissa.
How many teachings were true, and how many had been twisted by time? They went back a thousand years, and that was a long time to keep anything accurate.
Voyagers had to try to understand the unknown, which sounded like a verbose way to rebrand curiosity.
Instructor Garcien’s warning from the bamboo grove came back to me.
Curiosity by itself wasn’t destructive, but Talissa’s comments made something else occur to me. Most of the class had reacted like Talissa.
Being different was dangerous. And being right when everyone around you was wrong was doubly dangerous.