Still Light
12-06-2014, 01:14 PM
The Sea was singing, its notes were traveling across the waves that crashed on the rocky cliffs, the white beaches, the rugged crags. Dark blue arms reached up to the uneven cliffs, with foamy fingers, trying desperately to climb the jagged walls. Then they fell back into the Sea, repeating the hopeless cycle again and again.
A child stood atop of the highly coveted cliffs, her dark curls wrapping around her neck, her white dress blowing and billowing like a sail. A sail that she wished would carry her over the Sea and into the horizon. She watched as a flock of clouds floated over and believed they were ships traveling on an ocean above her.
She turned and ran away from the cliffs, through the sage fields of tall grass, till she reached her small cottage. Her mother was already waiting for her, her long dark hair waving in the wind as if she were under water.
Inside her father sat at their little table, awaiting for his wife to lay out their dinner of oysters, bread and fish, and for his daughter to sit by his side to hear another tale.
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Father was a fisherman with, like all those whose lively surrounded the ocean, a deep reverence for the Sea and all things in it. He would sail out from the little port in the nearby town and into open waters, to harvest fish from deep and trade them in lands beyond his child's imagination.
She had only known her secluded world of grassy fields and sandy beaches, jagged and unforgiving cliffs, and the untamable Sea. Yet her father's mind was vast. He had seen lands covered in forests, mountains and rolling moors, and at his daughter's protests and to his delight he would tell her about all the lands beyond.
"Out there", he said. "The Sea does not meet with the land like it does in the North and the East, nor does it stretch on forever like it does in the South. For towards the West the Sea cascades into lands below."
"Have you seen it?", she asked him eagerly.
"No", he told her. "But I have heard tales of it and one day I hope to see it for myself."
Father would always smile at the widened eyes of his child and glance towards his wife with a knowing look. He would then plant a kiss on his daughter's head and stand to embrace his wife, before setting out on another journey. His daughter would look up at him, the fire from the hearth engulfing him in a warm glow, lighting his eyes with a flame she was sure even the Sea could not quench. As he walked away towards the town, she would stand outside the door and wave goodbye, until he was a mere speck in the distance.
Yet there was a summer when her father had left and the blue sky began to vanish under encroaching grey clouds. A storm raged that day, that shook the hearts of the child and her mother with fear with every roll of thunder.
The dark Sea churned, its cold hands climbing higher up the ragged cliffs, hungering for the cottage that sat in the field, the wind shrieking and raking its claws at the shutters and doors.
The child thought she heard voices, cries mingled with the clash of thunder and shrill sounds of the wind and she hid under the safety of her covers.
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Days passed and father did not return. Weeks, Months passed and no boat appeared on the horizon for them. A year had gone by, and people had already left gifts and food at their door. Mother could be heard some nights, sobbing painfully in her bedroom.
But her daughter never cried. She stood under the night sky on her lofty cliffs above the Sea, staring out past the whispering water and into the Western horizon.
She closed her eyes and saw her father's face, worn from the caress the rough winds and the salty spray of the ocean, his dark hair and beard already showing streaks of grey. However, his eyes were still youthful, always changing from the deepest blue to the stormiest grey. Those eyes belonged to the Sea, not to a man, and the child remembered when they were lit with the light of the fire, burning with some hidden force to tamper with the waters.
She opened her eyes and looked out at the horizon with a different gaze. She knew where her father was, and she knew how to get there.
With the full moon lighting her way, she walked away from the cliffs and down towards the shore. She looked out over the waters. They seemed much more vast to her now, yet so inviting. The waves calmly rose and fell in the distance, sparkling in the light of the moon as if little jewels had been sown into the waters. The tide slowly crept up to the shore and retreated into the Sea, like hands beckoning her forward. The sound of the waves were calling to her, encouraging her, filling her with determination and assurance. The Sea wanted her to come, wanted to lead her to father, out towards the West where the Sea cascaded into the lands below.
She walked to the edge of the shore, the cool water swirling around her bare feet and ankles, soaking the edges of her gown. She took a deep breath and continued on, the water swallowing more and more of her until only her head was visible, her feet no longer touching the bottom. She began to swim out, her little arms and legs persistently treading the water. The shore was stretching further back with each stroke, but her eyes were focused on the horizon. She was doing it. She was going to find her father and bring him home.
However, her movements became slow and her breathing laborious. The water no longer uplifted her, but began to tug and push her around, carrying her higher the further she swam. The waves slapped and crashed into her face and she clinched her eyes against the briny water. She was no longer swimming, she was struggling, desperately trying to keep herself afloat. She could feel herself submerging under the waves time and time again, only to be pushed back to the surface, the cycle repeating itself again. The Sea was toying with her, dragging her down and lifting her up regardless of how hard she struggled.
"Stop!", she manged to gasp out, her mind muddled, swallowing a mouthful of salty water in the process.
As if to obey her strangled command, the Sea did indeed stop. It decided then to simply drag her down in one mighty push of its waves.
The child felt herself being submerged, no longer hearing the crashing of the waves, but the turbulent swirling of the water. She felt herself being pushed around, felt the constricting feeling in her chest, felt the waters rushing into her mouth, her nose...until she felt nothing; nothing but the secure feeling of the warm water surrounding her. She was no longer struggling for breath, for she felt as though there was plenty of air stored in her lungs. She opened her eyes.
She could see the ocean floor and it was beautiful. Fish of silver, ebony, gold and emerald danced around corals that shimmered in the moonlight. The girl looked above her and she could see the sky and the moon through the rippling surface, for it was clear as crystal.
The fish swam up to her and began to heard her forward through the water, towards the Western horizon. The Sea had kept its promise.
She swam onward eventually reaching a deep underwater valley covered in fields of seaweed, that waved in the current. The child swam right above them with ease, until she felt a tug on her left ankle and looked down to see that a long tentacle of seaweed had rapped itself around her ankle, as more began to reach for her.
She struggled and scratched at her assailant, the fiery lights in her father's eyes pictured clearly in her memory. She grabbed the tentacle with both hands and pulled until the seaweed snapped and fell lifeless to the seabed. Vaguely, she thought of her mother alone in her dark bedroom, sobbing into the night, but she swam ahead, willing herself to move faster.
She felt she was nearing some end and knew that she was reaching her destination. She felt the water pulling her forward with a new force and she knew what was ahead. She was nearing the cascade.
Suddenly she dropped, feeling the break of the water, the rushing of the cold wind, sailing through the air, until she crashed into a body of water below.
The child resurfaced and saw that it was dusk, the sky painted in lovely hues of purple, pink and gold. The sun was a crimson orb, partially hiding behind a stretch of mountains, that lay beyond a vast expanse of rolling green moors. She looked back at the roaring, cascading Sea, which rose so high that it seemed to vanish into the sky.
She swam towards the land and climbed onto the grassy shore, her wide eyes taking everything in. It was just as she imagined it to be. Slowly, she walked towards the mountains to continue her search, and thought that the sunset seemed to glow like the light in her father's eyes.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Under a full moon, the mother stood upon the shore. She looked out at the Sea with a still expression, yet upon looking closely the glittering of tears could be seen on her check. She was so motionless that she seemed made of stone. She wished she were stone.
The Sea continued to try to claw its way up the cliff's face, hungrily eating away at the rocks, oblivious to her pain.
To the mother that's all it ever did: engulf anything that touched its surface. All it did was take. It took her husband and yet that still wasn't enough. It had to have her daughter too. It had been a month since she lost her child and a year since she lost her husband, and she still could not understand what he saw in those treacherous waves, the angry churning of the water. He had to idealize, give life, looking out at it with those untamed, beautiful, blue-grey eyes.
He had told her once, that he wouldn't mind if the Sea were to take him someday, after she had begged him to leave off fishing and trading, to work in the town.
"It would be the best way for a fisherman to go, I think", he had said. He didn't realize how those words had bothered her. She thought about leaving him, but he would take her in his arms and dance with her and they would stay up late and talk and laugh and he would play his lute and sing, his voice rolling deep and strong. She would remember the day when she first saw him stepping off a boat, his hair glistening with water, his eyes a stormy grey and she knew that she couldn't leave him. Especially with a child on the way.
She blinked and another tear streamed down her cheek. She thought about her daughter, how she was so much like her father. She stood and thought, listening to the melodic crashing of the waves and, of all things, smiled. She imagined that her child was out beyond the Sea, searching for her lost husband. Out in the Western lands, where the Sea cascaded to.
A child stood atop of the highly coveted cliffs, her dark curls wrapping around her neck, her white dress blowing and billowing like a sail. A sail that she wished would carry her over the Sea and into the horizon. She watched as a flock of clouds floated over and believed they were ships traveling on an ocean above her.
She turned and ran away from the cliffs, through the sage fields of tall grass, till she reached her small cottage. Her mother was already waiting for her, her long dark hair waving in the wind as if she were under water.
Inside her father sat at their little table, awaiting for his wife to lay out their dinner of oysters, bread and fish, and for his daughter to sit by his side to hear another tale.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Father was a fisherman with, like all those whose lively surrounded the ocean, a deep reverence for the Sea and all things in it. He would sail out from the little port in the nearby town and into open waters, to harvest fish from deep and trade them in lands beyond his child's imagination.
She had only known her secluded world of grassy fields and sandy beaches, jagged and unforgiving cliffs, and the untamable Sea. Yet her father's mind was vast. He had seen lands covered in forests, mountains and rolling moors, and at his daughter's protests and to his delight he would tell her about all the lands beyond.
"Out there", he said. "The Sea does not meet with the land like it does in the North and the East, nor does it stretch on forever like it does in the South. For towards the West the Sea cascades into lands below."
"Have you seen it?", she asked him eagerly.
"No", he told her. "But I have heard tales of it and one day I hope to see it for myself."
Father would always smile at the widened eyes of his child and glance towards his wife with a knowing look. He would then plant a kiss on his daughter's head and stand to embrace his wife, before setting out on another journey. His daughter would look up at him, the fire from the hearth engulfing him in a warm glow, lighting his eyes with a flame she was sure even the Sea could not quench. As he walked away towards the town, she would stand outside the door and wave goodbye, until he was a mere speck in the distance.
Yet there was a summer when her father had left and the blue sky began to vanish under encroaching grey clouds. A storm raged that day, that shook the hearts of the child and her mother with fear with every roll of thunder.
The dark Sea churned, its cold hands climbing higher up the ragged cliffs, hungering for the cottage that sat in the field, the wind shrieking and raking its claws at the shutters and doors.
The child thought she heard voices, cries mingled with the clash of thunder and shrill sounds of the wind and she hid under the safety of her covers.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Days passed and father did not return. Weeks, Months passed and no boat appeared on the horizon for them. A year had gone by, and people had already left gifts and food at their door. Mother could be heard some nights, sobbing painfully in her bedroom.
But her daughter never cried. She stood under the night sky on her lofty cliffs above the Sea, staring out past the whispering water and into the Western horizon.
She closed her eyes and saw her father's face, worn from the caress the rough winds and the salty spray of the ocean, his dark hair and beard already showing streaks of grey. However, his eyes were still youthful, always changing from the deepest blue to the stormiest grey. Those eyes belonged to the Sea, not to a man, and the child remembered when they were lit with the light of the fire, burning with some hidden force to tamper with the waters.
She opened her eyes and looked out at the horizon with a different gaze. She knew where her father was, and she knew how to get there.
With the full moon lighting her way, she walked away from the cliffs and down towards the shore. She looked out over the waters. They seemed much more vast to her now, yet so inviting. The waves calmly rose and fell in the distance, sparkling in the light of the moon as if little jewels had been sown into the waters. The tide slowly crept up to the shore and retreated into the Sea, like hands beckoning her forward. The sound of the waves were calling to her, encouraging her, filling her with determination and assurance. The Sea wanted her to come, wanted to lead her to father, out towards the West where the Sea cascaded into the lands below.
She walked to the edge of the shore, the cool water swirling around her bare feet and ankles, soaking the edges of her gown. She took a deep breath and continued on, the water swallowing more and more of her until only her head was visible, her feet no longer touching the bottom. She began to swim out, her little arms and legs persistently treading the water. The shore was stretching further back with each stroke, but her eyes were focused on the horizon. She was doing it. She was going to find her father and bring him home.
However, her movements became slow and her breathing laborious. The water no longer uplifted her, but began to tug and push her around, carrying her higher the further she swam. The waves slapped and crashed into her face and she clinched her eyes against the briny water. She was no longer swimming, she was struggling, desperately trying to keep herself afloat. She could feel herself submerging under the waves time and time again, only to be pushed back to the surface, the cycle repeating itself again. The Sea was toying with her, dragging her down and lifting her up regardless of how hard she struggled.
"Stop!", she manged to gasp out, her mind muddled, swallowing a mouthful of salty water in the process.
As if to obey her strangled command, the Sea did indeed stop. It decided then to simply drag her down in one mighty push of its waves.
The child felt herself being submerged, no longer hearing the crashing of the waves, but the turbulent swirling of the water. She felt herself being pushed around, felt the constricting feeling in her chest, felt the waters rushing into her mouth, her nose...until she felt nothing; nothing but the secure feeling of the warm water surrounding her. She was no longer struggling for breath, for she felt as though there was plenty of air stored in her lungs. She opened her eyes.
She could see the ocean floor and it was beautiful. Fish of silver, ebony, gold and emerald danced around corals that shimmered in the moonlight. The girl looked above her and she could see the sky and the moon through the rippling surface, for it was clear as crystal.
The fish swam up to her and began to heard her forward through the water, towards the Western horizon. The Sea had kept its promise.
She swam onward eventually reaching a deep underwater valley covered in fields of seaweed, that waved in the current. The child swam right above them with ease, until she felt a tug on her left ankle and looked down to see that a long tentacle of seaweed had rapped itself around her ankle, as more began to reach for her.
She struggled and scratched at her assailant, the fiery lights in her father's eyes pictured clearly in her memory. She grabbed the tentacle with both hands and pulled until the seaweed snapped and fell lifeless to the seabed. Vaguely, she thought of her mother alone in her dark bedroom, sobbing into the night, but she swam ahead, willing herself to move faster.
She felt she was nearing some end and knew that she was reaching her destination. She felt the water pulling her forward with a new force and she knew what was ahead. She was nearing the cascade.
Suddenly she dropped, feeling the break of the water, the rushing of the cold wind, sailing through the air, until she crashed into a body of water below.
The child resurfaced and saw that it was dusk, the sky painted in lovely hues of purple, pink and gold. The sun was a crimson orb, partially hiding behind a stretch of mountains, that lay beyond a vast expanse of rolling green moors. She looked back at the roaring, cascading Sea, which rose so high that it seemed to vanish into the sky.
She swam towards the land and climbed onto the grassy shore, her wide eyes taking everything in. It was just as she imagined it to be. Slowly, she walked towards the mountains to continue her search, and thought that the sunset seemed to glow like the light in her father's eyes.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Under a full moon, the mother stood upon the shore. She looked out at the Sea with a still expression, yet upon looking closely the glittering of tears could be seen on her check. She was so motionless that she seemed made of stone. She wished she were stone.
The Sea continued to try to claw its way up the cliff's face, hungrily eating away at the rocks, oblivious to her pain.
To the mother that's all it ever did: engulf anything that touched its surface. All it did was take. It took her husband and yet that still wasn't enough. It had to have her daughter too. It had been a month since she lost her child and a year since she lost her husband, and she still could not understand what he saw in those treacherous waves, the angry churning of the water. He had to idealize, give life, looking out at it with those untamed, beautiful, blue-grey eyes.
He had told her once, that he wouldn't mind if the Sea were to take him someday, after she had begged him to leave off fishing and trading, to work in the town.
"It would be the best way for a fisherman to go, I think", he had said. He didn't realize how those words had bothered her. She thought about leaving him, but he would take her in his arms and dance with her and they would stay up late and talk and laugh and he would play his lute and sing, his voice rolling deep and strong. She would remember the day when she first saw him stepping off a boat, his hair glistening with water, his eyes a stormy grey and she knew that she couldn't leave him. Especially with a child on the way.
She blinked and another tear streamed down her cheek. She thought about her daughter, how she was so much like her father. She stood and thought, listening to the melodic crashing of the waves and, of all things, smiled. She imagined that her child was out beyond the Sea, searching for her lost husband. Out in the Western lands, where the Sea cascaded to.