The Rain and the Drop

Every day, as the sun hid behind the mountains to the west, Tropf would once again flow around their ocean. The last traces of light in the sky were reflected in the undisturbed surface of the water. After wandering in the depths and tracing the edges of the coast, Tropf would flow out, into the land. Every day the routine was the same, and so Tropf watched over their ocean. Some days rain would fall for days and the ocean would rise, others would be dry and warm, threatening the body of water and its many residents. During storms and droughts, they remained ever watchful and never lost sight of their domain.

During an otherwise unremarkable summer storm, a creek began to flow down the nearby mountains. It made its way through the forest and the small cities until it finally reached Tropf’s ocean, which rose with the falling rain. When the storm was over, Tropf made their way to the edge of the water and rested on the side of a tall stone pillar.

“Hello there.”

Tropf was startled. No one had been to their ocean in a long time. They searched the edge of the forest looking for the sound of the voice. It had not been human, at least. They were never comfortable talking to humans. Such dry and rigid people. No, it had been a natural voice and had spoken in nature’s language.

Then they turned back towards their ocean. There was another elemental flowing out of the water. The dark blue liquid dripped up from the surface as small, intertwining spirals rose and shaped the outline of their fluid body.

The newcomer spoke again.

“Hello. I apologize for startling you. I did not know you were here,” they said.

“Oh, well yes. I am here. In fact, I have been here for a long time. Who are you?” replied Tropf.

“I am Regen. I was carried away by the storm.”

Tropf rose from their resting spot and moved forward to be next to Regen. Besides them, Tropf’s color was clearer and brighter. Their size was also smaller, their spirals thinner and simpler. Regen’s shape formed and changed every few seconds. The spirals shifted, switching places, dripping apart and back together. For both of them, these strange structures converged at the top of their liquid bodies on a perfect, pulsing sphere.

“I am Tropf,” they said. The sudden arrival of another had been very unexpected, almost threatening. “I am a Guardian,” they explained, “I am the keeper of this ocean.”

Regen remained still for a moment. The flow in them slowed down and the sphere at the top of their changing body turned around itself.

“Oh, that is… good to know. I would very much like to see it. It has been too long since I left mine.”

“What do you mean?” Tropf asked. Silence fell between both elementals. They could each sense the confusion in the other, and in turn, they pushed their awareness further around them. After some hesitation, Tropf moved forward, towards the water’s surface. They reached out to their domain, their home. “We are here.”

Regen moved towards the ocean.

“Oh… is this it, then?” The words felt flat and dry.

“Of course,” responded Tropf, with a hint of pride in their voice. “It is not the largest ocean, of course. Nor is it the deepest. But it is nevertheless under my care. I was created here, and here I will remain until the end. You know how it is.”

“That is indeed how it usually goes. I am intrigued…” Regen made a pause, pondering their words. “Were you really created here?”

“Yes.”

“You did not arrive with the rain?”

“No.”

“Or with a flood? Maybe you flowed in from the glaciers up on that mountain. Oh, or was it a typhoon? Those are quite something to be-”

“No. I was created here. Why do you ask such strange questions?”

“Tropf, this is not an ocean,” said Regen. “This is just a pond.”

Tropf moved instinctively back. They flowed away, spirals and pillars skating through the waters’ surface. He stopped on the other side of their ocean.

“What are saying? Of course, it is. Have you never seen a real ocean before?”

“I have. Which is how I know this is not one,” replied Regen. “Are you-”

“I am the Guardian of this sacred recipient of life,” interrupted Tropf, and their voice rippled through water and air. The tension between them was almost palpable. Small water droplets floated weightlessly near the surface. “This is my charge. You will not challenge me.”

Tropf’s ocean lied between the two beings. Heavy, dark clouds still covered the sky, flashes of light occasionally jumping between them. Thunder roared in the distance.

“I don’t want to challenge you,” responded Regen defensively. They moved out of the body of water and let their flowing structure reach into the grass. “I was just passing by and was surprised to find one of us… well, this far from…” His voice wandered for a moment. “Anyway, I should be going now. I have been sent to find a lost waterling, who was caught in a storm long ago. Goodbye.”

Regen turned away from Tropf and started moving towards a small creek that ran up the side of the nearest mountain. There they flowed into the water, and after a few moments, the dark blue sphere disappeared beneath the surface.

Tropf remained still for some minutes. Who the hell was that? Talk about crazy, they thought. The tension slowly faded from the air. The shadows around them were growing rapidly, some already reaching the ocean’s edge.

Tropf relaxed their body and started their normal routine. They entered the water and flowed around their ocean, all the way to its depths. A sense of normality washed over them. Soon they would forget this unusual event on an otherwise peaceful day.

It was already dark when they reached the surface. They prepared for the night, as a small frog appeared from the nearby grass. After a glance to the elemental, to the Guardian, it jumped into their ocean.