A Sign From The Depths-A sign from the heights
Chapter 3/3
Eluah kept walking briskly forward, otherwise, the hot sand would burn his soles. He followed a narrow sandy path between two narrow cliffs. There was a small stream running by his side which gave him the confidence to go forward. As long as there was water, he could withstand the heat. The forest distracted him with chaotic sounds, poisonous pollen and constant danger. Now only the desert sun blurred his mind. Finally, he had time to think and make a clear goal.
He escaped the village because he had to leave the others. He would not be accepted if he shared his story and he could not live peacefully hiding his secret. Entering the forest was a desperate escape, and maybe a desperate attempt to prove something to himself.
Now he was in the Dry Lands and right in from of him were the High Hills. The home of the Eagles. Everything was clear now. Where else would he go? This year, the Eagles did not come to the Sea Village so he would come to them.
From time to time the winds still brought the mist from the forest. It was a refreshing distraction from the sand, dry rocks, thorny bushes and spiky cacti. He had an uneasy feeling walking in the valley and he could not get rid of a weird feeling of being watched from the above. The cliffs were ominously surrounding him on both sides. The silence was only occasionally disturbed by small critters running from shadow to shadow to escape the scorching sun. Sometimes he could hear a lonely hawk from the distance.
Have you seen the Eagles? Eluah thought when he saw the hawk passing between cliffs. I believe you did.
At a few places, the cliffs reflected and magnified all the sounds and then even the flapping of his bare feet against the hot stones made a mighty echo. The sounds were scarce, the life was scarce. But the sandy path meant that someone or something had to be walking there from time to time.
After hours of walking, he came across a thorny bush with orange berries. He gathered a lot of them into his bag but only ate one. Somehow it was both sour and bitter. After an hour, he ate another five. And when even that did not make him feel weird, he ate the rest of them.
The valley slowly got wider and the small sandy path disappeared. He had to jump from stone to stone. He nearly stepped on a fish skull once.
In the evening, the wind got stronger and it picked up sand from the ground and as it travelled between the cliffs it made an ominous howl. Death — that was the word that kept coming up as Eluah listened to the wind. Nothing lives here. The wind was dry and cruel and every breath increased his thirst. He shuddered. Going to the hills would mean leaving the water stream. The only thing he felt a certain connection to.
But it had to be done.
The path outside the valley into the hills was very subtle and easy to miss. Eluah had to crouch and crawl under a few boulders and at one point he had to climb a steep stone wall to proceed. A blurry air above black stones was a clear warning he must not step on those. Eventually, he found his rhythm. His bare feet avoided the hot black stones and sharp beige crystals.
He stood on white round stones with the top of his feet when he could, but sometimes he had to stand on the whole foot to distribute his weight so that the sharp stones would not pierce his skin. He had to use the strength in his fingers and ankles. A mistake could mean he’d end up with a bleeding foot.
At least, this effort made him focus and sharpen his mind and it pushed away the negative thoughts — that he only had a small water flask in his bag or that there were many miles of climbing ahead of him. And also that he would be doomed if he would not find a water source.
With so much effort of putting his feet at right places, the walking became a dance. He had to relax his body so that it could balance out all the little mistakes. His hands had to be free and ready and his knees and hips had to be flexible. It worked, but it cost a lot of energy.
Once again, the time flew by. The scorching sun started to settle and the cold winds from the south arrived. Small clouds formed somewhere far away on the horizon. Eluah did not think about the views. Those vast deserts and forests were all blurry in his mind — unimportant and distant. The stones and the path were so sharp that it made his eyes hurt. Yet again, he found his rhythm — put the foot on the right place, feel the pressure and pain of sharp stones and lift the body. Over and over again. Find a spot, feel pain and step up. Yet the pain kept increasing. His skin on his feet kept getting more tired and soft. His mind got tired and made mistakes more often. Later, it was painful to step even on perfectly flat stone.
Pain occupied his mind — a self-inflicted pain. One way to escape from it was to start thinking about it. Why did he do this to himself? Pain existed to be avoided, not to be sought. Maybe. But he had to know where were the Eagles. He felt he needed that answer to ease that confusion and uncertainty deep within.
A hawk flew out of the valley. She looked down. She sought. The world was sharp because her mind was blank. And because she was hungry. A brown lizard ran around a stone. The ground was moving under a cliff. A thorny bush shook. A small strange man was walking uphill — upright, yet burdened.
Eluah ascended to a large cliff. He looked around into the distance. He tried to think but his mind was slow. The horizon was blurry and shaky. He breathed deeply. It helped only a little. He watched a drop of sweat being picked up by the dry wind. Losing water meant losing himself.
“I’m Eluah”, he whispered into the wind.
“Eluah”
He turned around, sipped last drops of water and marched on. The dryness in the mouth and eyes disappeared for a while. He looked into the ground, he looked where to step, he lifted himself.
The sun disappeared after the horizon and a second wave of energy hit him. It arrived out of nowhere and the feeling of despair was replaced by acceptance and determination. He observed his legs moving up and down. He only observed the pain, he only observed the exhaustion. He felt sympathy and compassion with his own self but he was not trapped in it. He was aware that the suffering was limited to a certain point in time and space.
He watched his mind getting clearer and lighter. Random thoughts started pouring in but they were not chaotic like in the forest. There was purity in them. They were light like the wind.
Going up was in a way like diving down. Except it was the opposite. In the depths, his mind turned more and more simple, primal, as he descended. In the heights, his mind was more and more active and buzzed as he went up. As if the wind carried thoughts and ideas to him. He felt elevated.
When he ascended the top, the sun was already set and the horizon and the lands around were bathing in a purple haze. The hilltop was scattered with sharp grey boulders and covered with dry, yellow grass. Beside one of the boulders was a large nest built from thorny sticks. It was empty and seemed old. It was, without a doubt, a nest of a large Eagle. Empty and abandoned. Eluah observed it with sadness.
He looked around in all directions but he could see no Eagles in the sky. Wherever the Eagles were, they were far away. Eluah’s legs felt weak and he felt his face turning pale as he realized that. That hopeful vision in his mind, that he would ascend to the top and see the Eagles flying somewhere far away completely disappeared and left his mind strangely blank.
He sat for a long time, and he observed the tension and fear to slowly fade away. The transition was so slow that it was hardly noticeable. Each Moment was by a tiny bit better than the previous one, but he had a lot of time.
Sometimes the fear started creeping back. His mind raced towards thoughts that he was out of the water, in the middle of nowhere, alone and there would be no one to help him. But he knew these thoughts from the depths. In the depths, your time was also limited and you were also all alone. He looked around into the distance. It was so easy to feel detached. He peacefully sat on one of the big boulders.
After a long, unmeasurable amount of time, his mind was almost as peaceful as in the depths. His muscles, even those of vital organs, relaxed. Gravity pulled him down and only his spine resisted, just enough to sustain an upright position. His blood balanced in its composition and he felt it slowly and consistently flowing in his veins. His fingers on arms and legs were tingling with energy. He felt the wind caressing his skin and all the tiny hairs on his arms, legs, and neck. His eyes and eyelids relaxed and he only looked in front of himself. Something deep inside him finally relaxed. Something that was raging and panicking finally gave up. He felt the subtle, dark and cooling energy of the night. He felt the warmth of the hill from beneath, still radiating the wild energy of the day. The boulders sinked tiny bit deeper into the eroding ground. There were small stones and dried yellow grasses, with their roots deep in the sandy and stony ground. And small little insect creatures, living in tiny hospitable places, beneath stones, deep underground, behind and inside roots, in small capsules of air, in shells of other creatures that were long gone. The night brought balance and activity and the wind was the catalyst.
The hill stood calmly, beneath the stars, resisting the night wind.
The hawk has left the sky and sought refuge and rest.
A small sensation brought Eluah back to himself. The corners of his mouth lifted up. He welcomed the wave of gratitude. The warmth has returned. But self-awareness brought back thinking. The short feeling of grace has passed. Why, in order to find balance, he had to leave the others? Many times in his life, he felt Nothing. Often in the depths, he felt Nothing. There, on the hill, he felt Empty. Feeling empty might be terrifying, but in the end, it meant there was space for change.
It was time.
He reached for his bag and put out the last Saiari. The round yellow fruit fit nicely into his palm. Its skin, wrinkled after all the dry days, revealed a distinct brown hexagonal pattern. But that could not stop how this small miracle irradiated freshness and life. He felt happy just by looking at it.
He took a bite and felt a wave of rejuvenation travelling throughout his body. He took another and he was totally overwhelmed with the satisfying sensations. Dryness in his mouth, nose and eyes disappeared. His skin tightened and smoothened and the pores opened up. There was tingling in his neck and goosebump on his arms. And then there was this strange, everpresent, high-pitch buzzing sound.
Eluah forced his awareness to move from his body to the surrounding landscapes. And the world lit up. The purple haze, now darker, was even more prominent. The land was still covered in the night, yet he could figure out the details. His vision was like a magnifying glass. The longer he looked at a certain spot, the sharper it became while the surroundings turned blurry.
He looked towards the ocean. Small waves travelled slowly to the shore.
He looked towards the forest. Translucent clouds were forming up in the valleys.
He looked towards the Dry Lands. There was a hawk resting on an old, almost dead tree.
He looked at the boulders and the cliffs, bush and grass lands. He had no intention, no expectation what to see. And then he realized.
That dry valley — the path between cliffs — used to be a river! A river that flowed through the forest into the ocean. But it changed its course. His eyes followed the path of the valley. There was a large stone structure somewhere up. Perhaps the earth shook and crumbling mountains fell into the gorge? Or perhaps it was built somehow. Who could have the skill to do that? The sea people only worked with wood, he could not imagine putting this structure up.
As the river disappeared, the Eagles must have left the land.
He closed his eyes and remembered the sensations from the ocean. He remembered how the currents changed throughout the years. And then he realized the change — the lack of fresh water and earthness inside the ocean. Of course the lack of river water has changed the ocean. And that triggered the cascade. The fish changed — their behavior has changed. Everything was adapting. Nakurus changed.
He was not chosen by Nakuru. He was not chosen by the depths, to stay in the depths. He was merely a victim of the change. He was not different from others, he was not marked by the depths. He did not have to change the world or save it. He was merely a butterfly flapping its wings very hard, wishfully thinking that something would change for the better. Maybe he was part of a bigger scene, but he was not a key figure. His task, was merely to play his task well. To live his life well.
As he scouted across the land, he saw the memories. The wild eyes of Janisse, the caring eyes of Jarre. Everything was changing and the Sea Village had to follow the pattern. His role was not a saviour, but a messenger.
But first, he had to find water and survive.
Originally published at www.inkitt.com on September 4, 2018.
