Chương 52: 2
You smile deliciously and explain the history to Flynn: "Our immortality is a gift bestowed by the whales. We actually built our city straddling the drifting continents, both as an homage to change and also because it protects the crystal structures against quakes."
"Nobody wants to talk about the fact that none of the merfolk actually remember having made the deal," Tamru says. "And the whales they dealt with originally are all dead."
You shift uneasily. There may be some gaps in the story, but investigating your obligation to them too much could insult the demanding whales enough that they might revoke their gift. And you can't argue the fact that you all have indeed lived for a very, very long time. That immortality has to have come from somewhere.
Flynn's legs do their best to keep pace as you swim along, but you can feel them starting to deaden. He's not used to using them this way. And even when he gets used to swimming all the time, he'll still never have your strength. He gives up and lets his legs drag behind him. "Well, true or not, I think it's a fascinating story," he says. "It gives me…hope, I guess."
You glide over the seafloor, lashing your tail languidly along. The pillowy volcanic rocks of the rift long ago gave way to sandy, featureless flats. It's too deep for sunlight—for plants—and so nothing grows. There are occasional small fish: filter feeders, often phosphorescent themselves. But for the most part, the depths are empty save for the constantly falling snow: white particles of dead matter falling from the giant bulk of the ocean above. It might feel daunting, coming out into this emptiness, if you couldn't navigate back by your sense of magnetism.
A fish darts by, and Tamru starts as it enters his field of vision. Even though he enjoys the wreck, he's always hated the dark open sea that leads to it. Even still, he usually tries to put on a brave face for your benefit.
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