11/16/10
...
The cold, iron wheel slides beneath his rough palms, causing his blisters to tear open. His hands numb, he tightens his grip on the wheel, his eyes locked ahead forever: Forever on the sea.
The weather is calm, warm; welcoming after endless nights of freezing temperaters. But at the same time, his body is sickened: A warm brush of the wind upsets his system, causing his body to shudder.
Behind him, the wind picks up more violently, as if a giant goddess had open her mouth and shrieked silently in her time of suffering- as if begging for someone to answer her cry.
His hair- like orange snakes- beautiful, dancing to an unknown music- rise up from behind his head and fly ahead of him, twisting in the force of the wind. Shuddering once more, his eyes closing, he waits for the wind to die down before turning his head towards the mourning sea, his bruised eyes appearing more shallow than ever.
But he sees nothing.
The sea is empty, as it always has been.
No...
He spots something floating in the water.
...Something is there. But what ...?
Leaving his stern position at the wheel, he inches across the sail boat to the opposite side. His hands clasp the railing as he bend down, peering over.
...It is a doll.
A doll which once had light blue hair, now turned into a blackish red from oil spills and the blood of whales; a doll whose gown was once more white than a penguin's belly, now a white so sadly stained, it looks more like a wedding gown of a woman who killed herself before her wedding day.
A deep feeling of anguish overtakes him, and he reaches over the edge, his entire arm straining, reaching- his nails just barely touch its blackish hair, and that small added pressure causes it to sink into the depths.
He withdraws his damp fingers from the surface of the sea, staring into the button eyes of the doll until they are lost to him forever. He brings his hand to his side, curling it into a fist.
As suddenly as a beastly roar of thunder, a warm feeling glowers against his back, and he turns, the wind picking up simotaniously, drops of tainted water spattering across his face.
"By the gods..." he whispers. "What has happened?"
Miles off, yet inching closer due to the waves, is a small bronze ship, fire swirlling into the sky from every window and crack, smoke cupping around the flames like a protective goose around its chicks.
The ship, half-sunk, sending heated gusts of death his way, and the smell of burning leather, oil, and flesh fill his nose. His eyes wide with fright, he recalls the doll, and wonders how many people lost their lives...
He turns away with a sullen expression.
There is nothing he can do.
He takes one step towards the deck, towards the wheel.
Then he hears her.
A long, high-pitched cry of a little girl- of a girl on fire, trapped in a corner, hugging her dead mother and screaming in the horror of her situation- overpowers the low, mellow sounds of the fire as it eats away the world.
"Someone's still inside!" he says loudly, finding himself back at the railing, pressing his chest against the ledge to get as close as he can, his eyes searching.
The burning ship sinks deeper into the cold sea, and he cries out in alarm.
He must help her...
He thinks of the doll.
It must have belonged to her...
His lips twitch as he decides what to do.
The screams sound once more.
"I'm coming!" he shouts. "Stay calm!" He runs to the wheel and jerks it in the direction of the ship. Slowly, slowly...the ship turns. "Cant you go any faster!" he pleads at the sail boat.
His orange hair soars like flaming birds around his face, he strains his hearing for the girl, but silence says a quiet "hello."
Dismissing his post, he runs to the ship and jumps over board. The water swims happily into his nostril and his eyes, burning his every sense. He curses the gods around him for the trail he is facing; he curses the humans of the world for acid-taste in his mouth; and he curses himself for not taking his shoes off before going into the water.
The ship burns brightly like a sunflower meeting the first rays of the sun.
Around him the waves rise and fall, like a giant heart beat made of death. Choking, he shouts, "I'm coming!" then again more urgently, "I'm coming!"
But he never makes it.
He reaches the ship, yes, but by then, the ship has sunk completely, and the smoke rises above the area, where floating bits of precious things- pages of books, a popped balloon, wooden toys, a candle- turn into trash.
With only slight hesitation, he duck-dives, following the murdered ship.
A deep chill shoots through his veins, knocking his sight out for a split-second. His lungs enclose dangerously, and he sucks in water like air; but his body turns cold inside, and a deep pain jolts through his system.
Yet he swims. Down.
The ship slowly vanishes from his sight; how deep is this sea?
He pictures the little girl once more; is she still alive? Maybe she found an air-pocket? Or maybe she's...waiting for him...
Another jolt causes his body to thrash, and his body begins to sink, doubling over itself like a folded blanket.
He cant leave her like this.
Pain bites into his heart. His eyes open abnormally wide, and he sucks in more water.
His body thrashes more violently than ever; like a worm drying up in the sunlight.
No... He cant die like this...!
He looks up, his open mouth trembling. The sunlight wiggles in the sky, made in motion by the dancing of the waves.
He begins to kick upwards, but he is sinking faster than he can swim.
He looks down with a feeling of dread; he is going to die with that little girl...
A feverish warmth burns through his face.
...with that little doll.
Giving up, he stops swimming and closes his eyes; he couldn't save that girl, so does he really deserve saving himself?
No.
He doesn't.
His legs and chest heave painfully- the very last breath of air in his body is replaced by water.
His face trembling, eyes so tightly shut, he cries invisable tears.
...
Seeing him there, laying dead on the bottom of the sea, she approaches him out of mercy. This human, unlike all others- who would risk his life to save a stranger- he deserves to live.
In his last moments, he left go. He felt no worth.
But she sees him as a body of mercy and loyalty; passion. He will be perfect for her; this man is worthy of her heart. First he must pass the test.
If the passes her test of love, of passion...if he learns to love the sea- the very thing that took his life... Then she will bless him with a new body, a pure rebirthing with the task of renewing the world.
However... If he fails... then he shall be returned to the bottom of the sea, to die.
But she smiles her secret smile, her large hands cupping over his child-like form, lifting him from the sands, bringing him up, up towards the surface. She smiles because she knows he will love him- do death would they part.
Her hands break the surface- his body fills with a deep, awakening energy, and- with a sharp gasp- his eyes snap open.
"Be still, human." she whispers in her powerful voice.
With a hesitant, jerk-motion of his head, he looks up into her large, beautiful face, his eyes wide.
"I have saved you." says the Goddess. "No harm shall come to you, if you pass my test of love."
Trembling in her hand, from fear, from cold, his eyes fill up with tears, and in her hands he begins to weep.
...