Work Text:
Water isn’t a living thing.
It can’t have memories or emotions or anything that humans can. It can’t feel angry about how it's treated. But water holds the past. That counts, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t know, I'm just the water that has been used by all living things throughout history. Something you rely on to live is telling you its story. Right now. The name is…well let's just call me by the name you humans so fondly call me; Water.
My story is a long one. I've seen empires fall and I've caused ships to sink. I've held dinosaurs that were bigger than the blue whale. I'm in every part of the world. I am essential. But I didn’t always know that. Earth, someone I could call my mother as I have no mother, taught me this. She was patient, but as patient as Earth was, she was full of fire.
Literally.
You see, Earth was in every way as wild as the wind. She was always shifting, creating, teaching. She made lands rise above me, so vast I couldn’t see the other side without evaporating and rising into a cloud.
“Earth, I can’t see my other side!” I whined, slapping the rock that just seemed to form out of nowhere before me.
"That's not the point, child. I made these lands so life could grow on it.” Earth sighed and rumbled slightly, shaking the ground.
I stopped my tantrum. I was hardly a child, being over 1.5 billion years old. "What's the point of that?”
Earth's surface rumbled as she laughed. Ripples and my usually small waves rose high and slammed back down, so tall I could see the stretch of land just from that height. I slapped the rock in front of me again. Earth stopped her chuckles.
“The point is that my surface isn’t just a liquid mass. It's so life can grow and thrive off of free air. And,” Earth gave me a look. So you can learn responsibility.”
I didn’t know what she meant. I felt I was responsible then. How hard was it to keep things alive? Can’t be that bad.
I was so wrong. Vwet, very wrong. Life popped up everywhere. And they all needed me to even start. I had to learn a way to forge a path through the rock by crashing into the rock and forcing my way through. It was a good idea. Sometimes rocks would cut off the flow and form small masses of me in different areas. Around there, animals and plants seemed to flourish better. Whenever I fell from the sky in dryer areas, the very ground seemed to eagerly soak me up.
I guess that is what Earth meant by ‘responsibility.’ And it didn't help that the continent that had been one before split up to make seven. It was maddening and overwhelming. I would neglect one area for another and that area would dry up and water would be scarce. Then I'd have to ride the wind, literally, and rain down on it. It was like this for years. I watched the dinosaurs storm the surface of the world and then get shocked out of existence by a chunk of rock from space. Earth is still angry about that. And the fact that you humans, the very creatures on Earth now, are hurting her, and she’s letting you stay is kind of bizarre.
But I know one thing from all the civilizations I've seen; you humans just keep taking. You want fire, you take wood without planting new trees to replace the old. If you want food from another place, that animal or plant gets overhunted and is now on the brink of extinction. Look at mammoths, dodos, and the Carolina Parakeet! All gone because of what you humans want. I used to think that history can’t repeat itself but it can! Over and over again Earth gets ruined and my waters are polluted. You pour your trash and oil into my vast space and now creatures like sharks and turtles are dying.
I had a point in telling you this. What was it? Ah yes, I remember. Humans tend to think they are super intelligent. More intelligent than every creature on the planet. On an intellectual level, when it comes to technology and adapting to society or the environment quickly? Yeah, I'll give you that. But humans don’t think to look into what I've seen. If they looked deep enough and saw what the Earth could hold without all their stupid machines that rip up life, they would see something beautiful.
I'm not just talking about taking care of Earth, even though it has been a couple of eons. I'm important too, you know! I rely on Earth to keep going (don’t tell her I said that) and as much as you humans annoy me, I like to see how you guys evolve again. It was interesting to see you pop up in the first place. I guess that's why I'll sometimes attack coasts with storms, to remind humans that they aren’t the most powerful thing on the planet.
"I would prefer you didn’t do that again, little one."
Earth's familiar yet not rumble nearly made me cause a second tsunami on the coast of Japan. I glared at Earth.
"Hello to you too, Earth,” I mumbled.
Earth didn’t scold me on my attitude as she used to. Instead, she shook a nearby mountain as a warning. It was fast and almost unnoticeable by the surrounding area. I could feel it though.
“Water, you can not just attack humans like this-“
"They attack you twice as bad!"
Earth sighed, sounding like a tired mother. No kidding she was exhausted, another forest was
on fire.
”Water, I'm fine. You should be worried about the growing amount of plastic in you.” Earth was serious. More serious than she was when I asked her to send that piece of rock that killed the dinosaurs back to Jupiter.
“But-"
"No buts. It's our job to protect those on my surface, even if they hurt us." Earth leveled another warning glare.
It has been decades since then. Yes, I sometimes whip up a storm to keep humans on their toes, but she doesn’t seem to disprove. I remain hopeful, though. Maybe you guys will get the memo and stop hurting us. Probably not, but who knows?