Whenever there is an oil spill in the world’s oceans, a sea slick is “born”. Countless animals lose their lives to the thick, clinging clutches of oil, dying miserable, wretchedly drawn-out deaths. Sea slicks are born of the lost souls of those animals and the sludge that bound and choked the life from them. As such, sea slicks are always referred to as “they” and “them” rather than “it”, and it’s said that if you chance upon a sea slick near the surface, their soft, melancholy vocalisations carry the haunting remnants of sea birds and the whispers of shoals of fish.
Despite their fearsome appearances, they are very much docile creatures, preferring to near-constantly swim through the depths and the quiet of the sea they were robbed from. Sea slicks are amortal, being unable to die, as they were never truly what we would call “alive” to begin with. Over time, however, sea slicks do disintegrate, usually over the span of several years, losing pieces of semi-sentient oil to the surface waters.
Ambitious wixes track sea slicks to gather these pieces, as they make especially valuable, durable invisibility cloaks capable of protecting wearers from even the deadliest of spells.
2087
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