My mother's voice cut through the void, and in an instant, I was back in the ocean, drowning. Something was dragging me down into the depths, while something else was pulling me back to the surface. My hands and legs arched and strained, my upper and lower half threatening to separate. I was helpless in a tug of war with my body as the rope.
"Unhand my son, you ugly beast," my mother cried out. Her hands gripped my wrist tightly, pulling up.
You must understand, dear reader, the level of feat my mother pulled off here. In our world, there are men, most weak and some of average strength. There are some that possess inhumane strength; I'd once seen a man decimate ten at once. I'd seen another create cracks in the earth with his bare knuckles.
Then there are monsters, I suppose you could still call them men. But they possess strength far beyond what a man should.
Then there are Gods; they exist in a different realm from us. Their presence alone can shatter our reality or cause it to collapse in on itself.
Then there are the horrors of the deep. They exist in the minds of all things that are self-aware. They possess unfathomable strength. They are not all of equal strength, of course. Some are stronger than the gods, others are not. As a matter of fact, the gods are those who have conquered the guardian horror of their own mind. I will explain it all better when it is time for that.
And then there are the beings beyond the deep, ancient beings that have existed before time itself. They slumber quietly and undisturbed. Even the horrors of the deep tread carefully not to awaken them. It's good for anyone—man, gods, or the horrors of the deep—if they awaken.
My mother was no god, at least not that I knew of, and yet she tussled with a horror of the deep. It should not be possible. It is akin to an ant tussling with an elephant. It was impossible, and yet she did it. My mother tussled with a supreme being, for me.
Even the horror was shaken. I had a feeling it wasn't giving everything it had in the tug of war.
"Interesting," it bellowed, its voice loud and thunderous. "I do not know which to find more amusing: that you dare tussle with me, or that you can."
"Give me back my son," my mother commanded.
The being let out a shrill laugh. "No."
My mother gritted her teeth, her grip on my wrist waning, her strength slowly giving out.
I realized it then. The being wasn't really dragging me; it simply held me in place. It was my mother who was mostly doing the dragging.
"Please."
"No."
"I'm begging you."
"No."
The being wouldn't loosen its grip on me no matter what. For what seemed like an eternity, my mother kept pulling me. My waist had reached its limit. I felt that at any moment now, I'd be ripped in half.
The being spoke again in an amused tone, "Why do you fight so much for the child?"
"You know. You know most things," my mother forced out through her gritted teeth.
I could feel her arms trembling; she was clearly exhausted. How she kept a hold of me was beyond my understanding.
"Most things," the being corrected.
"Does the child know?" he asked wryly. "Does he know why you fight so hard for him to levels that defy comprehension? Does he know that it is not simply maternal love?"
My mother said nothing, perhaps because she focused all her energy on pulling me, or simply because she had no retort.
"Do you even love the child, woman? I do not think so. If you did, knowing his path, you would let me have him. That is mercy."
Again, my mother kept silent.
"His path is dark and complex. Even I can only see glimpses of it. No human child should walk that path. Give him to me. He would feel no pain, I promise. Only bliss, till the end of time."
My mother said nothing.
The being sighed. "Enough of this. I will..."
My mother cut it off. "In that, you are right. Enough of this."
And then she began to hum. And the being shivered. The space around us grew as cold as a blizzard, yet as hot as the insides of a volcano. It compressed and stretched, bent and twisted. It was as if the very fabric of existence itself was being ripped apart, as if existence itself was afraid.
"Have you gone mad?" The being screamed, its voice palpable with fear. "Stop this. Stop this right this instant."
But my mother continued to hum.
Then my stomach dropped with a sense of wrongness. The essence of my being quaked, and slowly began to split apart—my body, my mind, my soul. It was as if the very force that held me in place no longer existed. I looked down at the being; it was the same for it. I looked up at my mother; it was the same. And yet she continued to hum.
"Stop this madness," the being begged. "It is not too late. You have only stirred them. They have yet to awaken."
My mother continued to hum.
"Fine, I'll give him back to you, you crazy woman." The being freed me.
Immediately, I was in my mother's embrace; she stopped humming, and everything stilled.
The being let out a loud sigh. "For [...] sake, woman. You almost brought about the end of all things. They are asleep for a reason. And you almost woke them up for the child?"
"Yes," my mother replied. "I would burn all the worlds for him."
The being went quiet, as if contemplating. Finally, it spoke again, "Interesting. When I try to look beyond, mist surrounds you and your path. Are you one of them?"
My mother gave no answer; instead, we swam away, towards the island of Lothario's mask.
As we swam, the being let out a chilling laugh. "Interesting. Truly interesting."
My mother pushed me to dry land while she remained adrift. It is necessary to let the mask wearer touch the mask first.
The shift was subtle at first as I touched the ground. Then, in an instant, I felt my mind split. I cannot explain fully how the pain felt; to try and quantify it into something you can relate to would imply it is a feeling you can understand. Reader, you have not.
I did not even remember when I passed out. I came to, laying on my mother's lap. When I stirred, my mother noticed I was awake and smiled at me.
"Today was dangerous, Lothario. It made me realize how much you are unequipped in mind matters. I thought we had more time. But we do not. I'm sorry, but you cannot be a child any longer."
Her face was stricken with grief.
"I understand, mother."
She smiled at me, her face filled with pride.
"Let's go back."
Just before we left, I felt something on the island. It hid amongst the trees. But I knew it was there.
I called my mother's attention to it. She frowned for a moment and said, "Let it be for now. You might have a need for it later. It can't hurt you here."
She was wrong. We should have done something there and then. But we didn't, and I would come to suffer for it.
I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, we were back in our room on the ship. We lay still for a long stretch of time, spent with exhaustion.
When we finally caught our breath, my mother said, "Let's go see the commander."