Run on the Water

I watched as they raised their hands to their face. It could not stifle the agonized scream of horror and grief but it sheltered their eyes from the unfolding events. As ash sifted down around us, I could hear others giving similar cries. I turned my face towards the east. The journey called out to me. As I began to take my first steps, I felt the weight of the shield upon my left arm. I set the helm upon my head, ignoring how the shield made movement awkward in doing so.

The baldric sang its song as I walked, a soft jangling like that of a woman's ring of keys held in her right hand ready for a fight. A person stepped in my path and I continued forward. Sensing death attendant upon me, they fled my shadow's passage. The sun was moving lower into the west behind me as I continued on my road. The screaming and weeping of the civilians no longer filled the air around me but it echoed in my ears. Hidden within the folds of my cloak was a parchment inscribed with holy words. They were supposed to be my guide through the dark land before me. The cries of my country illuminated the shadows the grew deeper around me more than the scroll I carried.

Night rose up like startled birds when I reached the ocean. No bark awaited me there. I stooped and fixed the lacing of my sandals and pulled my cloak tighter about me as fog rose. One against untold numbers was terrible odds. No one said that I had to go. No holy person told me that I was chosen. They simply gave me a scroll to bear to the Queen. When I came to the village of my birth and I found it burning, I knew that my road was far longer and different from the royal road that wound its way to the north.

I stood at the ocean's edge and waited for the first moon to rise. The great Mother would be full as would be her Children. If the horologists calculations were correct, tonight would have all three rise in order of size. If the scroll was correct, a path upon the waters would be revealed with their rising. So, I waited. The first shimmer of light broke the horizon and sparkled over the tops of the waves. I was unsure if there were stones in the water that would be revealed or if some wonder was to unfold. I stood at the shore as the tide rose higher and the waters moved towards my feet.

The Mother had cleared the horizon and the sea turned smooth as glass. The air turned curiously still and my heart hammered. Something was about to happen, my body screamed at me. I couldn't pull my eyes away from the ocean and the light shimmering on it. As the Son rose and the Daughter peeked over the horizon, my feet moved of their own will. My foot settled upon a beam of light and the water beneath my foot was firm. I took another step and found it to be the same. I began to run, my shield slapping against my back in its harness.

My gaze remained focused upon the moon and I felt as though I was rising into the air as I ran. I began to feel chilled despite my great effort. Knowing that countless lives depended upon me, I continued running. I fell into the rhythm that carried me from the temple of the oracle to my village and time blurred. In the darkness of night, I felt like I was running for eternity upon some strange narrow bridge. I stumbled when my feet were upon land again. I looked around in amazement. I stood upon some foreign shore where green trees swayed in a warm breeze. The sky was growing light.

A man walked forward from a thicket of poplar trees. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Greetings and well met, fair traveler,” he said in a thickly accented voice that sounded like gravel tumbling from a barrel. His broad brimmed hat fell over his right eye and shaded his face from the gloaming's light. His cloak was as gray as the clouds scudding overhead and yet as pale as the sea bird's feathers. “You have come from a distant world of my lost children,” he said as he motioned for me to follow him, “Their dreams and hopes lay in you and what you carry.” I walked after him noting he seemed to be an older man though he moved as though he was in the prime of life. I wondered for a moment if the was truly the god of my ancestors' ancestors. Old stories spoke of the wandering god of the famous spear and storm voice. “I shall bring you to my storyteller. She shall reveal what you must tell your queen.”

We walked together to a hut. It looked as though trees had been woven together to make a weather tight building twice as tall as the man at my side and just as wide. A leather flap was pegged down across the entrance. The old man rapped on the hardened leather three times. A shuffling on the other side happened and then the flap was lifted. A ruddy light like firelight came from within. “Go in, speak with the seer and the truth speaker. They've been waiting for you.” I ducked my head and stepped into the hut. As I did so, the parchment tumbled from the folds of my cloak and fluttered to the ground. I didn't need it anymore. Daylight had come and insight awaited me.