Then I noticed that cut into the stone walls between the figures were doorways, windows and open arched pathways that weaved their way around the lake, connecting what looked like some sort of residences. Weathered and neglected, the stone had split and crumbled in areas, leaving collapsed piles of jagged rocks in the water below. It appeared as though this place had been vacant for some time. It was like we had come to the ruins of an ancient civilization, haunting and beautiful at the same time. It was an impressive vista that I wanted to etch permanently into my mind, but there was something in the middle of the lake that especially caught my eye. There, anchored on the sun speckled water was a large, magnificent wooden ship.
“What is that?”
“That,” he whispered tugging me close to him. “Is your surprise. Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I whispered back. “But,” I paused, looking over the edge. “How do we get down?”
His eyes followed mine over the edge and then turned back to me. “I think it’s about time you learned how to swim,” he said pulling his shirt up over his head.
“Wait, what?” I gasped.
“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you,” he said tossing his shirt over the edge. I watched it flutter down and land on the smooth surface of the water far below us. He playfully kicked off his shoes and hollered, “Last one in has to Captain the ship!” and without giving me a moment to contemplate, he dove off the cliff. My head leaned over the edge and I watched his body soar down and plunge into the water below.
I couldn’t believe that he had stranded me. I clung closely to the rock wall, feeling suddenly anxious at the height of it. Nudging up close to the edge, I peered down at Henry. He was climbing into a small rowboat that had been moored to the shore below.
“Okay!” he hollered up. “Your turn!”
“Are you crazy?” I yelled back. My voice bounced off the crater walls and echoed back to me.
“Some would likely say so,” he hollered. “But I assure you that my being crazy or not will have no relevance to your safety here today.”
“But I can’t swim!” I shouted.
“I won’t let any harm come to you, I promise,” he called up.
“I can’t believe he expects me to jump,” I mumbled to myself as I began unbuttoning my dress. I was thankful for the old-fashioned underwear that covered up most of my important parts, with its romper styled shorts and laced-up top.
I leaned over, saw him in the boat and I tossed my knapsack down to him. It landed smack in his lap and startled him. He glanced up and I leaned back out of sight, giggling.
“Am I going to have to scale this cliff to come and get you?” I heard him holler.
“I think you may have to if you want me down there!” I teased, kicking off my shoes and tossing one over at him.
“Ouch!” he grumbled, and looking back over the edge I saw that he was starting to climb back up the wall. I stepped back again, concerned with what he was going to do.
‘He wouldn’t throw me off, would he?’ I panicked and I leaned back over the edge to look again. He was nearly half-way up and seeming to do quite well at rock climbing. I tossed my other shoe at him and hit him square on the head.
“Ouch!” he looked up at me, but did not slow his climb. “You would be mistaken if think you can stop me that easily,” he said, squeezing his foot into a higher nook in the rock. He was only several feet away now.
I had no idea what to do, but as my mind raced for an answer I saw my dress - the only thing left to throw at him. I picked it up and tossed it over the cliff, watching as it fluttered down towards him. ‘Success!’ I smiled, as it landed, covering his head completely.
Grabbing the dress off his head with one hand, he looked at it and then up at me. A mischievous smile widened on his face. “Wait until I get ahold of you,” he scolded playfully, and tossed the dress down into the water below him. “I promise I’ll have you in the water before the day is through.”
He was on a relentless mission to get me, and I stepped back, alarmed. When his hand reached over the top edge I panicked and hollered for him to, “STOP!” He froze, peering over the cliff’s edge at me.
“You’re scaring me!” I exclaimed.
His green eyes widened and he looked confused by my extreme apprehension.
“Do you think I would hurt you?” he asked, slowly pulling himself up onto the rock shelf in front of me. “I told you I would never allow it.” He looked earnestly at me.
“I can’t swim!” I said, stepping back against the cliff wall.
“This is why you need to learn. Come on,” he urged softly with his hand out, advancing towards me. “I want to introduce you to someone.”
“Who?” I asked. “The Myth?”
He shook his head.
“Who then?”
“One who has been on many journeys with me.”
“Who?” I asked, standing firmly bedded on the solid ground.
“Narina Caravel,” he said.
“Huh? Who’s she?” I asked.
“Come and see for yourself,” he said. “Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.”
‘How many girls does this guy have?’ I thought. “Is she your girlfriend?” I spilled out.
“Girlfriend?” He stopped. His green eyes gazed into mine as though trying to see where my thoughts were leading me.
“Or maybe your girlfriend is the Myth?” I said dryly.
“Is that what you are upset about?” he asked.
“How could you think this wouldn’t upset me?”
“I... I didn’t think of it that way,” he stuttered as all the playfulness disappeared from his face. He seemed shocked that I would be upset.
“Guys are so thick sometimes!” I said. “Even the ones who apparently know it all.”
He frowned. “It’s not what you think,” he said reaching to take my hand.
“Oh no? And how do you know what I think?” I asked, pulling my hand away.
“Yes, I adore the Myth with all my heart,” he sighed. “And I love how Narina and I have gone through many storms together, but...”
It was too painful for me to hear him admit his love for these girls that would remain here with him when I was long gone. How could I have been so foolish to think that I was special to him?
“I promise, you will like them when you meet them,” he assured.
“Another one of your promises,” I sighed.
“Yes,” he said. “And if you’d have a little faith, a justified faith I might add, you would be understanding and patient to wait until you have met them before passing judgement so quickly.”
What was he thinking? That we’d all just be best of friends? ‘Guys just don’t get it,’ my jealous heart groaned. He didn’t understand that I wanted to be the special girl he adored, and I didn’t have the guts to tell him.
I watched his soggy, tousled hair play in the breeze while his shirtless body called for me to ignore my concerns. ‘What did it matter anyway?’ I thought, as the painful reality that I’d be leaving sooner rather than later set in, crushing all of my romantic hopes.
“Will I even remember this place when I go back?” I asked.
“Depends,” he said.
“On what?”
“On whether you want to,” he said. “The mind is pretty good at forgetting things it doesn’t want to remember.”
I looked at him. His familiar green eyes stared silently back as I studied them, every fleck of green. I promised myself that I would never forget him.
“Trust me,” he finally said, gently pulling me towards him. “The story ends well, I assure you,” he whispered, but I couldn’t imagine how. “Now about that promise of mine,” he smiled.
“Which one?” I asked dryly. “You’ve made so many of them.”
“The promise that I’
d have you in water by the end of the day.” He grinned with eyes full of mischief.
“WAIT!” I said shoving him back.
“However!” he said holding his hands up innocently. “In keeping with my promise not to harm you, I will further promise not to lay a single hand on you until this day is over and a new sun begins to rise. Unless of course you ask me too,” he vowed.
“So...” I pondered a reply. “You promise that you won’t push me off the edge?”
“Of course not!” he scolded.
“AND... you won’t force me into the water?”
“That’s correct.”
“Well,” I said folding my arms across my chest and leaning back against the rock wall. “Good luck if you think I’m just going to jump in.”
“Oh, that won’t stop me,” he smiled.
“But you can’t lay a hand on me!” I insisted and I felt a drop of water splat on my nose.
“I know,” he said confidently.
Another drop splatted against my shoulder. I looked up and there directly above me was a small dark cloud.
I looked back at him. “You do this?” I asked, pointing upwards.
“A promise is a promise, and I intend to keep all of them,” he grinned. The cloud opened and the rain began to pour down on me. The cloud seemed to focus all of its precipitation in a small area directly above my head. In fact, it was such a small area of rain that Henry, who stood only a few feet from me wasn’t getting wet at all. Within seconds I was completely drenched, as he had promised.
“You think this is funny, do you?” I asked with my hands on my hips, spitting out the shower of rain that continued to beat down on me.
“Well, shall I be honest?” he asked, stifling his laughter.
“Of course,” I huffed, blinking from the wet hair that hung limp over my eyes.
“I do find it funny that you could have prevented all this by just jumping in the water with me,” he laughed, stepping under the cloud to join me in the shower of rain. “BUT,” he grinned, as the water now ran down his face. “Then you wouldn’t be as irresistibly lovely.”
“Really?”
“Umhmm,” he sighed leaning in towards me with his hands faithfully remaining at his sides. I could swear I saw the hunger in his eyes as he stood so close to me. He wanted me, I was sure of it, but I was determined not to succumb and become just another one of his many girls. I wanted to know more about these two he was so fond of; Narina and the Myth.
“Well, I guess it’s too bad you have to keep your other promise then,” I teased, pulling away from him. Without putting any more thought into it, I ran towards the cliff and jumped.
I had jumped on my own, without his help and felt powerful and free as I fell, the cool air blowing past my wet body. I had my nose plugged and my arms wrapped tightly around me as I splashed through the surface of the water. As quickly as the alluring empowerment rose up in me, it dissipated as I found myself in another unwanted predicament: I was once again in the water and unable to swim.
Just as panic set in a burst of bubbles shot down towards me. Henry had dived in after me. Reaching his hand out towards me, he kept his promise and waited for me to grab on. Embarrassed, I willingly accepted his hand and he pulled me up towards the surface, just as he had done on the night I nearly drowned. That night that would soon be upon us.
I smiled, remembering that night I had first met him, and considered that Henry had kept his promise there too. He had not laid a hand on me until the morning sun broke through the surface of the water. It was not his first time meeting me, and I wondered if that was the reason he seemed so familiar. The way he looked at me with those knowing eyes; he already knew me and it was no wonder I fell for him at first sight.
“Kick your legs,” he said gently guiding me with his outstretched hand.
I moved my feet up and down awkwardly attempting to swim.
“That’s it!” he smiled, lightening his hold on me.
“Don’t let go!” I stammered, afraid I’d sink again.
“Just keep kicking,” he replied. “You’re doing great.” His hand released and I instinctively grabbed forward and kicked harder to take hold of him again, but he managed to stay just far enough in front of me that I couldn’t grab him.
“We’re almost there!” he said, looking back at the row boat.
He grabbed hold of the small vessel’s wooden edge, turned and held out his hand for me. “And she swims after all!” he smiled.
But I didn’t share his enthusiasm, and skirting his hand, I reached up for the side of the boat myself. He pulled himself up into the boat and turned, watching to see how I would fare. Clinging to the side of the boat, I tried to lift myself up, but it was harder than I thought without a support for my feet. As I swung one foot up and over the side of the boat my head ended up underwater and I panicked. I frantically tried to kick my leg off the side, stubbing my toe on the oar in the process. Ultimately I was successful and my head popped up as my foot splashed back into the water.
“Shall I lend you a hand?” Henry asked, now leaning over the side to help.
“No,” I said, determined to defeat this obstacle on my own. I kicked my legs and grabbed hold of the side of the boat again.
Then I had an idea. Holding my breath, I tightened my grip on the side of the boat and pushed my head down under the water by straightening my arms. Then, as though I were on the monkey bars back home, I flung myself up out of the water and fell forward, bending my top half into the boat. With my face now pushed against the floor, I awkwardly bent one leg up and over. My second leg followed and I tumbled into the boat like a sopping wet rag doll.
“Not bad for your first lesson,” he snickered, clearly fighting hard to contain his laughter.
“And I do hope it’s the last for today,” I panted.
“Now that’s a promise I cannot make.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Narina Caravel
With no towel to dry myself off, the breeze chilled me and goosebumps spread over my body.
“You’re cold,” said Henry. “Here, put on your dry clothes.” He tossed me my knapsack and turned away as he sat down on the wooden bench and began rummaging through his satchel.
I zipped open the knapsack and pulled out my familiar grey T-shirt and shorts. They had been laundered, ironed and folded, but their bland colours and lack of style reminded me of the life to which I would soon return. I glanced at Henry who still had his back to me. I wondered if I would ever see him again. It seemed unlikely, and I didn’t like the direction my mind was taking me; there was no good scenario it could settle on. I knew he couldn’t return home with me, and I knew I couldn’t stay. I slithered out of my wet undergarment and slipped on my shirt and shorts.
“Here’s a blanket to keep you warm,” Henry’s hand reached back blindly to pass it to me. “It’s expected to get a bit windy today.”
“Thanks,” I smiled, taking the thin, pale blue blanket from him. It was a soft knit cotton, and as I wrapped it around me, the delicious smell of lavender and pine wafted from it, making me think that it had been dried on a line outside.
“Ready to go?” he asked, as he stood up and turned around to face me. Then holding back laughter, he stood there with his green eyes smiling at me.
“What?” I finally asked.
“It’s not that cold is it?”
I must have looked like a big cocoon the way I had bundled myself in the blanket. “It smells good,” I smiled and reluctantly loosened it from around my face to let it fall down over my shoulders.
“You should be able to escape the breeze up in the bow,” he pointed towards the front of the vessel where a couple of thick life preservers sat on the floor.
The small boat swayed as I lifted the blanket enough to climb over the bench and nestled down into the bow with a life vest belo
w me and one propped up behind my back so I could face my companion. The empty, silent archways and tall, weathered monoliths that surrounded our small vessel appeared more ominous from this perspective, than they had when we were up on the cliff looking down on them.
“This place looks deserted,” I said.
“Yes,” sighed Henry, sitting down on the bench. “It has been this way for some time now.”
“Did the Syreni live here?”
“Ah, well that is a story worth telling,” he smiled, pulling back on the oars and moving the boat out.
“You’d never know it, but this was a lively place back in its day,” he began. “Home to the Syreni, who were hard working artisans and scribes.
“Aren’t they the ones who painted all the stories in the Temple?” I asked.
“Yes, and all the architecture you see here was accomplished by their hands as well. See the archways and carvings within the cliff walls up there? They were once meticulously kept with beautiful gardens, and walkways connecting their many homes. They lived here peacefully, and every summer one gifted Syreni was chosen to go and join a few select others in service at the temple for a period of twenty one seasons. During that time they improved their abilities, while also putting their talents to great use. They skillfully painted the colourful stories of the Troth as they filled the stone cathedral with song. Ingrained in the granite walls, their artwork has retained a life of its own, rich with colour, emotion and music. Some would even say that those who have ears to hear can still hear their songs in the temple today.”
My mind slipped back to the dream I’d had in the temple. The dream of the Syreni singing as she painted by candlelight.
“I was told they were cursed,” I said.
“Indeed,” he sighed.
“Why would someone do that?” I asked.
“Jealousy,” he said straightly, as he looked up at the cliff beside us. “Jealousy and fear crept into this world long ago, when Evoluii was in its youth and the Syreni lived in a bustling village. The Syreni had decided to put on an opera for the surrounding neighbours in an effort to share their music and the stories of the Troth, while establishing a friendship with the other communities. It was a beautiful gesture and many who had heard of their exceptional talents were excited to come and hear them. Everyone had been invited, and anyone who had a boat and was willing to make the trip was here for the three-day event. Imagine...” He stopped rowing and glanced at me with eyes full of wonder. “This lake was crowded with an eclectic regatta of tall ships, rowing vessels and even one steamboat that journeyed fourteen days to get here. By the time all the ships had set anchor the sun was already fading. A hush fell over the crowd, and as the sun dipped down into the gate,” he pointed to the distant vertical opening in the crater wall, “Melodic voices began to swell up within the surrounding walls. High up on the cliffs, the tall, graceful Syreni stepped into view, singing a wondrous musical overture as the sun’s brilliant afterglow crescendoed into fiery colours of passion. It was an incredible show,” he sighed.
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