Knowledge is power, they say. But too much of it could easily turn into a curse. A prison of sorts. Agonising even, at times.

This seemed to be the case in the story of the two powerful seas.

Both, unending and earnest, met at a point, running along the centre of the sun. Here, light cuts into half, melting into seven colours, washing over the world below. It is where one is able to walk on water, the auspicious elements bending at the seas’ command.

A higher station, the foundation stone, as the elders called it. The beginning and the end. Releasing mercy and wrath for those that dare disturb universal order. These two seas hold it all together; keeping the waters at bay, calming the air, sustaining the earth and forging from the core of it, fire.

Great power stems from this rare point where these seas run along, closely knit together yet, flowing into their respective alternate discourses. Together, but apart. Why? One may ask.

There is a wall between them. An unseen one.

The seas mightily run, placing reliance on the other, but often find themselves wondering, “What would happen to the wall if we were to merge?”

“Smash it down for good!” the instinct says.

“The fallout … will be massive,” they say.

“Smash it,” instinct reiterates. “Smash it so hard that the wall crumbles. Disintegrates. Comes down as if it never existed. As if it never should have existed. The water will wash it all away,” it says again.

“There is great fear of pain. This breaking of the wall might end the course of things as they are. What then?” the seas asked instinct.

“Why wonder about fear of pain? Has this long endurance not been painful?” it asked the seas.

“More than ever. This pain is unbearable, but it stems from nobility. The pain of fear may be the opposite. It will stem from the hurt caused by selfishness,” they confessed to instinct.

“What good is nobility if you have been unkind to your own selves? Are your generational sacrifices upon sacrifices not enough, for you to claim some compensation?” it said.

“The thought carries weight. We would never be able to exist with the thought of causing havoc for each other. We intend for the other, only peace and infinite love. Our sorrows and joy, despite the wall, are mutually felt. If one side faces a storm, the other equally suffers. There is no escape. But with that, the core wonders, how beautiful it would be, it could be, if these waters could travel far and wide, above and beyond. How merciful we have been yet left yearning for it. Isn’t that ironic? Does it even make sense? Is there anyone who would understand this?” they told instinct.

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“Then let things be. Let yourselves flow. Wait for divine command and graciously merge. You cannot escape that which was always destined to be and that which was not, cannot be saved no matter how much mercy you pull out from yourselves. You shall be granted all that you ask for, only if you ask for it. Seek it out! Do not give up. As long as you live,” it responded.

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“You consume me. All that is and has been leads to you, even when I exhaustively attempt to stay away. Even if I may travel far in this attempt, I know I would fail to part from you. I shall seek you in every corner of all that I may come across. If that is my fate, I humbly accept but if any hope, even a glimmer of it lies around here, I must hold on to it. So be it,” the seas said to one another.

“Ready, when you are. When you are really there. Come to me then.”