Lizardmen and the Sea (1)
A thunderous prayer boomed right in my ear. I'd just settled in for a long-overdue nap, and now this—some bolt from the blue. I scowled and cracked open my eyes.
Hmm. The voice slammed straight into my ear, praying away. Calling me the Genesis Divine Dragon... so, one of the lizardmen? They seemed to be living quietly enough without any fuss... Why the sudden call?
I scanned for the source of the voice.
"Genesis Divine Draaaagon!!!"
There, amid a raging storm on the open sea—where massive waves crashed relentlessly—a lone lizardman clung desperately to a tiny boat.
Hmm... Why was this lizardman out here all by himself on such a flimsy little craft? In this brutal, storm-tossed ocean, no less.
I set aside my rising questions for the moment and began gently calming the weather around him. I didn't know the full story, but if someone needed help badly enough for their prayers to reach me directly, it was only right to lend a hand!
As the storm gradually subsided and the house-sized waves settled into gentler swells, the lizardman collapsed onto the deck, utterly spent.
Why had this lizardman ventured out into the endless ocean? And more to the point—could a freshwater lizardman even survive at sea?
To get some answers, I extended my hand toward his tiny, prone boat. Leaving him adrift in the middle of nowhere felt a bit too harsh... Ah, there's a small island nearby. Might as well send him there.
It was just a little skiff without proper sails. No idea how he'd even made it out here on something like that... I nudged the currents to push the boat toward the island and beached it gently on the sandbar. Then I touched the head of the unconscious lizardman.
In a situation like this, reading his memories seemed like the best first step.
This lizardman's name was Queo-Tlan. Nothing particularly extraordinary about him—just your average lizardman, by their standards. Compared to regular humans, though, he was a warrior with a far sturdier physique.
His specialty was swimming and diving. He made his living catching fish with those skills and selling them. Apparently, his prowess outshone other lizardmen in the nearby tribes; he was famous as the best swimmer around.
What had drawn this particular lizardman into the savage open sea? A single bet.
"They say there's a colossal lake at the end of the world—so vast you can't see its shores! A lake like that would teem with enough fish to feed every lizardman tribe to bursting!"
"What? Spreading such nonsense! Where's a lake that huge supposed to be?"
"Hey now! Do I look like the type to peddle rumors? This is solid info I gathered from merchants who've wandered the world! And deep in that lake dwells the Master of All Currents, or so the tales go!"
The Master of All Currents...? Ah, they must mean Tethys. Lizardmen have this quirky way of naming things differently from other races. Maybe because they're one of the oldest species, predating humans by eons?
"The King of Water Spirits, you say? Now that's intriguing."
King of Spirits...? So lizardmen don't see the kids as gods? Well, considering when they first appeared... it might make sense. Back in their era, folks probably viewed the kids more like the dragons' progenitors than deities. And after the dragons became spirits, they'd seem like kings ruling over spiritkind. Calling them spirit kings might actually be more accurate than gods.
Hold on—does that mean lizardmen worship only me, the Genesis Divine Dragon, as their god? No other deities, just me alone?
Wait, what? Didn't I once name one of my soul shards Quetzalcoatl or something, and they believed in that?
Hmm... Maybe because lizardman faith got mixed with human beliefs, treating it as separate from the Genesis Divine Dragon? Who knows. Faith comes in all shapes—some worship one way, some another. Whatever.
I tucked those stray thoughts away in a corner of my mind as the two lizardmen's argument heated up.
"But there's no proof that story's true! No way to verify it, even!"
"Knew you'd say that! So here's my proposal: a bet."
"A bet?"
Queo-Tlan's face lit up at the word. Bets were always a thrill, after all.
"Word is, if you follow the endless river downstream, you'll reach that massive lake at the world's edge. Among the lizardmen I know, you're the finest swimmer—so I figure you could make it. What do you say?"
"Why should I?"
The other lizardman paused thoughtfully before replying.
"Call it a hunch. Verifying that lake's existence could mean big money. A giant lake unknown to lizardkind? Doesn't that pique your interest?"
Queo-Tlan had no ready comeback. Huh. So lizardmen didn't know about the sea? How? They interacted with other races...
Why were they clueless about the ocean? Inland living? But they dwell in swamps and rivers. Follow a river long enough, and you'd hit the sea... Hmm... Oh. Could it be...
The saltwater? Yeah... Given their lifestyle, they're like freshwater lizards. Without a salt-adapted mutant strain, coastal life would be suicide for them...
So how did this Queo-Tlan make it to sea?
"Big money sounds good. But I don't fancy risking my neck on some wild rumor."
"How about this, then?"
As if anticipating the objection, the betting lizardman pulled something from a bag under the table and set it down. A small wooden box—heavy enough to make the table wobble.
"What's that...?"
"Something I commissioned at great expense from dwarf artisans."
He cracked open the lid just a sliver. Inside gleamed...
"Th-this is...?"
Delicately carved scales. Majestic wings. An elegantly sweeping tail. A head crowned with ornate, dignified horns. A silver statue filling the box—a dragon, forged from pure silver.
"A holy idol modeled after the Genesis Divine Dragon. A masterpiece crafted by a dwarf master smith from the finest silver."
A statue in my likeness...? What the—?
"Ooo... Ooooo..."
"I hear you and your kin are devout followers of the Genesis Divine Dragon. Figured nothing less would sway you. I prepared it specially."
"Such a sacred form of the Genesis Divine Dragon... O Genesis Divine Dragon..."
Queo-Tlan reached out, but the lid snapped shut just before his fingers touched it.
"No rushing now. It isn't yours yet."
"Th-then...?"
"Find that distant colossal lake, confirm the Master of All Currents dwells there, and return. Then it's yours. Deal?"
Queo-Tlan pondered. It was far away—not a day trip. But his grown children handled their duties as proper lizardmen, and his wife thrived producing papyrus. A short journey wouldn't hurt.
And a lake was just a lake, right? With his swimming skills, it'd be a breeze.
"You're on!"
And so, for the sake of a statue, Queo-Tlan set off downriver in his little boat. Sometimes swimming with a rope tied to the craft, other times drifting lazily with the current, he journeyed on.
After days of confident travel, he finally faced the boundless "lake." Curiosity got the better of him—he took a sip of the water, hacked it up immediately, and spat.
An unnatural saltiness. His thirst worsened despite drinking. His hand dried out fast from the brine.
Only then did Queo-Tlan realize: this vast "lake"—the sea—was no ordinary river or pond.
Hmm... Are lizardmen a bit dim? Is it because their bodies are so tough that their brains didn't need to evolve? Brawn over brains—no need for smarts when you're that strong?
Eh, whatever. They knew nothing about the sea, so fair enough.
Seawater's salt draws out your moisture... For lizardmen who need constant hydration, the ocean's a poison pit.
So... what to do with this one? Queo-Tlan. Send him home quietly? Offer some aid? Or...
Turn him into a sea-adapted lizardman? Some fish thrive in both fresh and salt water. No reason lizardmen couldn't!