Exodus and Eggs
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During the Atumenate Epoch, it was said that Sihnsakisili, lord of the waves and the endless Thalassic Domain whereupon all the fishes and fowls and fuminophores reside, became envious of the land-dwellers and their superior knowledge.

While his children were more plentiful, the children of Gullikgirin, the Earth Maker, were more favored by the Gods and infinitely smarter, basking in the Great Glows and feeding on the Gods' wastes whenever they pleased. As they writhed and wriggled through the soupy union of Maririshal1 and Ilsiganuta2, warmed by the Gods' care, Sihnsakisili's cold creations had only the empty depths of the Ocean to wander in, wading and wagging their tails and fins to distract themselves from their loveless life.

For 500 000 CCE (Kamandoyuan constellatory-apex), the denizens of the Thalassic Domain wept and wallowed in the Water Around All Land, wishing to their creator for blessings like those given to the Gullikin. They wailed in deafening sadness for so long that imprints were forever left in the oromelodic resonances of Thalassian seawater: indeed, as one may hold a conch shell up against their ear, the gnawing, hollow sound of air within the conch will perfectly mimic the Sihnsakin's sorrow and despair.

The god of the sea, wearied of seeing his children being cast low and denied godly favor, abandoned his children to the care of Murga, the Great Steward, and emerged onto the Sea-Surface as a giant jellybeast. By then, there were still parts in the outskirts of Thalassia that were uninhabited, and Sihnsakisili was despondent as he floated toward land. To disguise himself from Atum and the other gods, he wrangled volcanic rock into his mouth-hole, reconstituting his body to appear as an island.

His journey lasted twelve years, and at that time the Gullikin had grown into larger and larger forms, while the Thalassians, ever-increasing in number, wailed even louder.

When dry soil was at last within the sea god's sight, Sihnsakisili was appalled to see the Gullikin completely cover the land in a slimy, steaming, meaty mass of their countless young and family, initially even mistaking the landmass as the viscera of a dead god. Because the Gods had been so coddling with the land creatures, they had lived in abundance without any deity's supervision for centuries, forming a mountain with their own bodies. As the Sea God floated nearer into view, he saw that the "mound" was in fact the corpse of the Earth-Maker himself, and that the Gullikin were indeed feeding off of it, absorbing their creator's essence in the process.

In a horrified rage, Sihnsakisili summoned Wulukquk3 and sent a massive tidal wave to drown the Gullikin. Barbed tentacles erupted from the deep and dragged clusters of Gullikin to a watery doom. The land-dwellers could not breathe underwater, and heaps of them sank to the bottom of the ocean. However, with the consumption of the Earth-Maker's power, many wise Gullikin adapted and learned to survive, growing thick carapaces and sharp claws. As the Thalassic God laid waste to land, the adapted land-dwellers, thenceforth refugees in the sea, began their new life in the most cavernous depths.

The loss of so much life was felt by the rest of the Gods, and many flocked to the Living-World to investigate. Malninagu, one of the Life-Spirits, was the first to speak against Sihnsakisili, but Sihnsakisili argued that the Gullikin, having killed their creator, were no longer children of Creation. Many of the Gullikin in the center of the continent remained untouched by the tidal waves, and continued to multiply as the Pantheon of Atum decided on their fate.

Meanwhile, in the Thalassic Domain, the myriad multitudes of sea creatures under Murga's watch had grown embittered with envy over their Gullikin cousins. They did not know what it was like to eat (consumption of "food' was originally a gift given exclusively to land-dwellers.) They could not breathe anything other than cold, black water. Driven furious by their sordid conditions, they started to go astray from the Great Steward's care. This marked the first time that children of Sihnsakisili swam against the currents created by the Mother Shark, the sheer difficulty of the task alone killing scores of Thalassians. Yet, in turn, this left the strongest to breed among themselves.

It was agreed that the land-dwellers, having abandoned their birthright with the death of Gullikgirin, were to be punished. However, there were stipulations made by Atum in adherence to his deitic laws: that the Gods could not eradicate the land-dwellers outright, must ensure that every life lost would serve another being, and that their capital punishment of the mortal land-dwellers must be done through other mortals.

All of the Gods and Spirits struggled on a solution, when a large fin, as tall as the mountain made from Gullikgirin's body, arose from the sea. Murga, being unable to fully surface, jabbed her snout at Sihnsakisili's leg. Sihnsakisili, aware that the Great Steward wished to commune with them, called to Kanuenon and asked him to mold a clay bowl big enough to hold her.

Atum, seeing the effort, told Kanuenon to stop, and took Murga from the sea, and with a rub of the Great Shark's topside, gave the Steward a nose-hole on the top of her head. As was ordained in the Covenant of Breathers, an air spirit was sanctified and entered Murga upon her first inhalation.

Murga then recounted to the Pantheon the tragic state of the Thalassic Domain and the plight of the Sihnsakin that swam without purpose. She then discovered the fate of Gullikgirin and cried in anguish, for it was the Earth Maker who forged her skin from hard metals to be stronger than any other fish.

As she cried, Sihnsakisili was said to have seen a sparkling teardrop fall from Murga's eye and hit a stray Gullikin afloat in the water, forcing the creature to sink down the ocean, at which point, he received an epiphany.

The Earth-Made, having lived in gluttonous squallor, were fat, plump and shell-less, and were no match to the blades and fins and innumerable teeth of the Sihnsakin. With the gods' blessings, they could be led to Gullikgirin's domain and exact slaughter, all the while roaming across the dirt and mud like they so wished. Sihnsakisili called upon the Pantheon and proposed his plan, which was agreed to by Atum.

And so, Sihnsakisili delivered Murga back to the Domain. The Great Steward moved her tail and fins with such force that all of the Thalassic dwellers were swept away by the currents, carrying them towards land. Atum, sitting atop the cliff formed from Gullikgirin's tall nose, then commanded the Younger Twin to exert a vast tidal influence upon the seas. The Younger Twin obeyed, and with her pull over the seas
trillions of Sihnsakin were brought onto the Ur-Continent at once.

The Gullikin were no match for the Sihnsakin, and were devoured whole, aside from the wise ones which burrowed into the soil and hide there to this day. As they hunted across the corpse of the Earth-Maker, the glowing gift of Atum allowed them to grow legs and feet to better traverse their new domain.

The Thalassians eventually cleaned up large areas of the land, exposing the earth god's rotting flesh. When they had eaten through the mass of Gullikin above Gullikgirin's head, the Sihnsakin and everyone else present fell silent at the sight of the Earth-Maker's grinning face. The reason behind this expression at the time of his death, or why the peninsula of Gul, Mt. Ilki, and Lake Quartal come together to resemble a smiling face of a (^>) being, remains unknown.

Once the Gullikin above land were completely eradicated, Atum created a great, bright glow from his chest that touched each Sihnsakin in its warmth, separating the Domain's destiny into two, depending on their true desires: those who explored and trekked the Surface to their heart's content, risking their lives leaping across cliffs, valleys, and canyons because they may not return to land again; and those who would miss the flow of cold water on their scales and fins, and Murga's currents and Sihnsakin's guidance.

Then Atum made the Younger Twin deliver the waveborn Sihnsakin back to their Domain. The two new races of Sihnsakisili's children then bade goodbye to each other as the tides crept gently over the continent.

Half a waveborn generation later, as the youngest Thalassian children were born in the seas, many of Sihnsakisili's estranged children on land became confused with a basic, yet integral ordeal in their new life: birth. Their children up until then were born in the water, and now they couldn't go back to their old domain.

To address this, Atum gave off another great glow that touched only the land-dwellers this time. He then told the Gul-Sakin to commence reproduction. As the first of the young finally emerged, the land-dwellers were surprised to see their children enclosed in tiny white coffins, and cried as they gave birth to more. Atum glowed with pleasure, shining his light upon the eggs, which hatched to reveal healthy young Gul-Sakin, and explained that if the land-dwellers could not go to water to bear young, the water shall come to the young instead.

The Gul-Sakin, relieved, thanked Atum immensely, and soon spread to all over the Ur-Continent in mutual abundance with their waveborn kin.

And that is how Sihnsakisili, lord of the waves, helped set the events in motion which led to the conception of the humble egg and the exodus of half of his own creations into new territory.

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