The Fifth Tide

At the end of the Fourth Tide, all grew quiet. Life seemed to hold its breath, and all rested. Food was scarce, nothing grew as it had before. The magic, for a time, seemed weak and distant. Even the gods were silent, despite the calls of their peoples. The Peoples of the deep drew to their own kind, hid and hoped and prayed. 

But it was not prayer that saved them. 

The first gathering was small. A desperate trade for resources. A call for help from any who would listen. Only a few came, at first. But the gathering grew. 

The first Concordant met in the Ethereal Reef. And the soft sounds that came from the glass-like corals and translucent and luminescent plants grew as did the number who came. It was as if what was needed for Wiksah to stir and to burgeon to life again was for harmony to come. Brotherhood and blessings, hand in hand. The more who came, the more the Peoples prospered, until finally the ocean teemed with life as it once had. 

The Locathah, long since freed from their oppressors, were the only ones to hold themselves almost entirely distant. And, well, who could blame them? They keep their sacred trust with the sharkfolk, the selkie and the were-beasts, but it is rare for another to earn their trust and far easier for them to take offense. 

It is a time of peace and prosperity unheard of before. Dangers still lurk, Wiksah gives and takes in an equal measure and there are many place untouched and untamed within the deep. But the Tide rises for all, and all prosper as most work in cooperation towards the best for everyone. Magic is abundant, and though that of the academic sort is distrusted... that of nature, gods and patrons is widely known and accepted by all. There are mechanical marvels and growing cities and new discoveries and great deeds to be done and good for all who wish to take part in it!

Or, at least, that's the way it's supposed to be.