The First Glowtide
This is a story of the first time Glowtide was celebrated by the Neptunian otter-folk, upon their emigration to Halcyon. It was told by Elluim during the 2024 Glowtide celebration.
Long ago, our ancestors came to the great ocean of Halcyon, aboard a ship crossing the great sea of stars. The why isn’t important, or the when, really. It was a long, quiet voyage, remembered only as a soft, deep slumber; and those who were part of it share the same dream: a radiant star, streaking a trail across the expanse.
Those first cycles were rough, hard work. Though they felt themselves prepared- after all, an ocean is an ocean, right?- it still required relying on older traditions: some chose to be hunters, catching schools of fish as colorful as they were; others sought to understand the native species of plants. There was enough to go around for a while, yes, but it took steady work to secure it. Everyone was happy to help, and before long, it almost began to feel familiar. As the days turned, though, they realized how much longer the nights were getting, and some started to grow worried. There was less time to fish, and what fish there were began schooling less and less. The kelp they cultivated, normally adorned with glowing, colorful nodules, began to falter, glowing less and less bright. Even the sea itself seemed to slow, its currents growing languid; the moon as well seemed to dim in the sky.
Tensions grew fraught through the mindlink. What once would be a call to action was a blind flailing and mounting panic. Too many ideas were suggested, and just as many chirps rejecting them. An undercurrent, fretful and dread-filled, grew of some who believed that abandoning their ways was the right way– to isolate away from the tumult and despair; to hibernate, to sleep undreaming. More and more this worry gripped the mindlink. During one meeting where they all struggled to figure out a plan, panic creeping at the edges of thought, it was a youngling who spoke. None had asked the children any heed, and yet dream came to them as inspiration: Another vision- of a shooting star, that same one that guided them to Halcyon, crashing into the seas. It plunged deep, deep, deep, until it seemed to fade from view…and then, even further below, came a flash of a pinkish light, sudden and strong, seemingly beckoning to them.
The dream was shared, finally, and though the younglings wanted to venture out themselves (as those young and hopeful are wont to do), a few felt called enough to try to pursue the dream’s call. It was a small team: a 'Seeker', strong-tailed from having spent their time there 'looking' to the horizon and learning the tides; a Weaver, resourceful and kind, who 'listened' to and tended the threads of their community as much as their cloth; a Builder, whose strong paws had 'felt' the rocky shoals they built their home into, and A Youth who 'knew' the dream, as if engraved on their heart.
The four of them struggled to figure out what to bring, and the Youth broke the tension, voice gentle yet seemingly deep and soft: ‘Trust yourself, pack light. You will know what you need.’ There was something in that voice that rang through the mindlink like a taut string plucked; it resonated through their bodies. They agreed, and packing what they felt most important, they set off.
Past the edges of the shoals they called home, past reef and crag, downwards and downwards they descended. It was slow, but determined swimming– the currents were sparse above, but here they twisted in confusing whorls and patterns, buffeting them from side to side. The Adventurer needed only to offer his paws and tail- together they made a chain, and by his lead, they found a twisting path spiralling deeper. Their guidance was felt through that mindlink as something deep and primal, coming from their own bodies and seemingly somewhere else, echoing through them.
At the edge of the great darkness of the aphotic zone- the depth of the ocean where the surface’s light could not touch- they stopped to rest for a moment. “How did you know where to go?” The Weaver asked the Adventurer. “I don’t know, but I felt it, like a magnet tugging at me. Instinct- the knowing without knowing.”
“And that knowing will be your greatest guide,” echoed a voice, a distinct -voice-, through their mindlink. The Weaver knew without knowing where it was originating from; when she turned to greet it, there was but a small sea slug on an outcropping. “Hullo there, little Aeo,” the Weaver crooned, offering a small bit of seaweed for it to nibble on from their pack. The others drifted over to greet it, seeing what the Weaver saw: Aeo is the deity of the sun, and here ve was, contently nibbling. As if validating that belief, it began to gently glow, a warm beckoning light that slowly pulsed…and farther below- deep, deep, deep below- a new light radiated, a mote of rose-colored glow, pulsing like a heartbeat. “There! There! This must mean we’re on the right trail!” The Weaver chirped excitedly, almost springing forward to plunge into the dark…only for the Builder to hold a hand on their shoulder, drawing them back close.. “Below is darkness, and it grows hard to find your way…In case we cannot tell which way is down, let me anchor us here.” They reached into their bag, pulling out a simple rope, tying it secure and steady next to that sea-slug.
“Be well, little light,” they all said to the sea-slug, tying that string off and descending.
Deeper still was the ocean depths, inky blackness seeming to extend in all directions. The beacon they spotted pulsed but for another minute, giving them a heading…until it faded into the dark as well. Down they swam, the string growing longer and longer, until they couldn’t see the end back behind them. Deeper and deeper, their motions cautious, until-
“Look! There!”
A new glow greeted them: a light from below, soft magenta light pulsing like a slow, steady heartbeat, invitingly. Its shape came into focus: A net of coral, almost sculpted into a sphere, surrounding some light, and…a figure below, within, waving in beckoning greeting.
“Who are you?” The Seeker asked.
“I am you, and you are me,” the figure said in a soft, dreamy voice- sounding just like the Seeker, as if mirroring them, chuckling. “You may know me also as the Swimmer-Within, though.”
“It was you who gave me that dream! It’s nice to meet you,” said the Youth, swimming closer. Their shape, lit by that magenta light, was halfway enshrouded in shadow; yet their embrace was gentle, and the two hugged. “Have you been waiting here for us?”
“Not at all; why, I’ve always been here.” said the reflection, in a voice that sounded like Aeo’s.
“Will you please help us? Our world grows dark and dim; have we wronged this world somehow?” came forth the Builder, their voice tired and weary.
“You have done nothing wrong beyond doubting yourself. After all, you are Neptunians. What axiom embodies that most truly?” came the voice again, a bowstring rippling through their shared link.
All of them thought it at the same time, and the way forward was so very simple-
Love, flow, and glow.
All of them embraced there, the Swimmer’s arms wide enough to embrace them all, curtains draping from those limbs, as if resembling a manta ray.. For a moment, there was quiet, nothing but the gentle heartbeat of their ocean, of themselves, of the Swimmer, magenta pulses surrounding them.
The Youth trembled a little, and a hand stroked their head soothingly. And then came words, seemingly spoken in unison from all of them:
“Breathe in; feel that light inside, that gentle spark swirling; Breathe out, send it passing by, to mix with hearts whirling; Look up then; see the stars above, all shining ever-bright; Look down then; see your Light Below, shining through deepest night.
Through ebb and flow, through love and glow, shall you know your truest path.”
These words were all theirs, and the Swimmer’s as well, and there was knowing beyond knowledge in them, something that stoked their own glow…as they turned and began to swim back. That rope that had been an anchor carried many new things: a tiny sea slug crawling along it at the end, greeting them, and a myriad of hanging baubles, jewel-like spheres that glimmered faintly. As they swam upwards, clutching the rope for a guide-line, each sphere they passed flickered and blinked to life, a warm, inviting glow. As they reached the edge of the aphotic zone, they realized as well that the rope itself had extended, somehow! There was so much more of it now, and so they simply knew to stretch it out the other way, carrying it towards their home.
As they came closer to their home, they let more and more slack out, the rope spreading and curling, draping across the kelp forests. To the otters at home, it looked as if the forest was blinking awake with colors anew…and where it flickered, the stagnant dark seemed to subside: The currents grew a little more lively, and fish seemed to greet them.
Before long, four otters emerged, arms laden with glow-rope, eyes bright, and hearts filled with the joy of love shared. When they explained themselves, they spoke in unison:
“The answer was here the whole time: Love, flow, and glow. Trust in our truest selves, and in the light that rests within us all.”
And that’s what they did: Together, through sharing their kindness and compassion; through sharing what glow they had; and through trusting in the currents, they held on through the cold season, and slowly the light returned.
Now, every year, we perform this tradition of bringing light to our surroundings during this darkest time, in hopes that we can remember what light shines in our truest self.
