Basch and Odine became lovers, they allowed each other's arms in the warm evenings in the most hidden corner of the garden, hidden from the sight of everyone they possessed intertwining their bodies.
Basch was not a loved lover of novels nor was he capable of writing any if he ever wanted to. He was not a good writer but he could tell with such passion that he told his young Ondine stories of what he called "Love", he sang to her legends of his land of those spirits, of which Ondine bore the names.
Day after day their souls intertwined, Ondine loved all that Basch represented.
"Once upon a time ..." I tell her the handsome knight continuing his story ...
Once upon a time, there was the story of a wave, a very beautiful and immortal water goddess like all gods. However, according to the divine law, if the goddess ever fell in love with a mortal and gave birth to a child, she would have lost her immortality.
The wave eventually fell in love with a handsome knight, the two married. When the knight exchanged vows, he swore to her that he would always love her and would be faithful to her.
The wave had made a choice ... giving up everything for the love of a mortal soul.
Ondine saw herself in that goddess, while sadly watching the handsome knight's eyes wondering if he would ever love her as the knight of that story.
That goddess was she who, on full moon nights, escaped from the palace by entering the silvery desert dunes, while the moonlight silvered the sand behind her figure wrapped in the pale glow of the moon.
Ondine every time he avoided the oasis where he used to sing in an ancient language that strangely no mortal could hear. Ondine it was not known to explain the origin of that song to her strangely familiar.
The girl in junctures like those promised herself that no one would ever take anything from her.
Years passed before Ondine decided to write, some pages of his life that he would never let anyone read, on a diary that returned every year the same and that would never change.
Basch would only see later, to come out of the hand and pen of Ondine, words and thoughts that he could only share with him.
And only by rereading the contents of those letters, they would have brought him back there, where indelible images resurfaced.
The handsome knight would have liked to be part of her, of his world, to understand if what he was doing was enough to give at least the idea of the immensity that Ondine had made his own.
More than once he had surprised her at the oasis, silently watching Ondine sing stanzas in memory of songs that even he did not know and that he never knew she liked so much that she involved her.
Basch didn't see how differently the girl was in those situations, she knew he would never share those moments with her.
Unbeknownst to Ondine, Basch had also begun to write about that story and that strange princess, alone in the soft light of his house he wrote pages on pages telling the most beautiful of stories.
Whatever the occasion, party or event in which one of the two was present, each of these two souls stood watching the other. Basch in his armor and Ondine in his precious robes.
They could hear their names, titles, and even the sound of their footsteps being heard throughout the room. They saw their own figure parading in front of their eyes, crossing and bowing in a hint of greeting and respect.
The glimpses of dreams and legends, of skies and stars lost in the immensity of the sky. The rare escapes in the desert and the dances between the two silent and silvery of these two lost souls, figures wrapped in darkness.