Immediately, I was sucked down into that cold, violent underworld. Smokey torrents of black water and white foam carried me deep, tumbled me over, tore me in two directions, until I knew neither destination, nor origin. There was no fighting those waters; no reasoning. The current alone was enough to overpower any living creature.

In that moment, I may not have been alive. I had given up all desire, and accepted the currents wholeheartedly; their will be done. And it was. I was carried endlessly. Drowned. Dragged. Starved of air. Force-fed water. Battered. Reshaped. Reborn.

For a time, I was simply carried in the flow. Water streamed through my fingers, through my hair, teased my senses, tempting me to interact. I learned, slowly. Move too fast, too willfully, and the current would correct me harshly. Instead, I learned to play a note in the streams rushing between my fingers; a slight suggestion to the river; a request.

And then, I swam. I tumbled, waited, spun, leapt; I played. I surfaced to a new world.