Glacial Whisper
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The increased speed of the water created foam which built a low glacial whisper that somehow filled the air. The journeyman felt how the fog was suddenly combined with droplets, like those of spring dew, which soaked his face.
Nobody ever returned to land after riding this river’s stream. For this reason, even without having heard one legend about it, Θ knew what to expect. The only question was how. He imagined monsters and terrible evils, but also paradises locked behind virgin coastlines in his most optimistic times. But the reality said that while the end of the stretch was near, the river was going to persist in keeping its secrets to the last moment. The zeal of the nebula prison did not come down, and there was no distinguishable aroma other than those of water and sky.
Yet clearly something was changing, and this led him to remember every moment that had brought him here. All the blame, all the insults, dirty looks and abandonment which he had suffered came back now in memories so vivid he could almost touch the face of those who offended him. But such visions, that once would have prompted his fury, now only triggered a smile. Even with nostalgia towards the banality of his previous incarnation.
His situation made him see all of men as mere children. Immature spirits willing to hurt each other in order to obtain a minimum joy. Ready to crush their brothers like no other species or natural element is. He mocked them, their inability to recognize the nuance of silence or to be astonished staring at the sky. Same sky where great things may wait ahead if we can believe in our souls, and that suddenly, in an explosion of undecipherable beauty, decided to open its doors to our navigator.
The fog stopped as suddenly as it had once begun, and the quiet murmur became a roar. His elaborate fantasies took the form of a waterfall. Such simple and beautiful transition he could not help but blame himself for not having imagined it. The fall that was to swallow him approached stealthy while even more memories flickered on his mind. But never powerful enough to persuade him of his trail.
He knew what he had left behind. He knew them all by heart even if he hadn’t seen them in his whole life, and was aware that a return would only bring pain, one that this time he would no longer bear. He did this to avoid hurting anyone. He realized that now the mere sound of a human voice would annoy him to grandiose extremes for carelessly breaking the harmony of the world that was handed to us. If he saw one of these creatures again he might end up chasing it to its death. The foam hitting the rocks with fury never seen before seemed like the most sublime music to ever grace his ears. A symphony for freedom. He closed his eyes to hear it.
The paddle sank for the last time in the white foam of the cataract. And then, in a second that, although Θ could have sworn otherwise, took exactly the same as all of the previous ones, the boat glided down a predestined diagonal. The cold he had always felt was immediately replaced by the warm welcoming destined to whom having always dreamt with an unreachable star, now finally recognizes it in the glare of the pure liquid that devoured him.
Is it that he who lives under a halo of black smoke, must irredeemably die likewise? We hope not for you, sad traveler, you fall down perhaps lifeless already, between blazing lights of aquiferous salvation. You who took the world given to you for living and threw it overboard of a flimsy boat, we salute you with amazement, with repulsion nevermore. Get lost in the roar of the crystal clear waters and leave this place which you refused to embrace, disappear listening to the only sounds that you deigned to take for good, and grab the hand that perpetual life has offered.
Leave us behind so hopeless. Enjoy your eternal breeze.
Nobody ever returned to land after riding this river’s stream. For this reason, even without having heard one legend about it, Θ knew what to expect. The only question was how. He imagined monsters and terrible evils, but also paradises locked behind virgin coastlines in his most optimistic times. But the reality said that while the end of the stretch was near, the river was going to persist in keeping its secrets to the last moment. The zeal of the nebula prison did not come down, and there was no distinguishable aroma other than those of water and sky.
Yet clearly something was changing, and this led him to remember every moment that had brought him here. All the blame, all the insults, dirty looks and abandonment which he had suffered came back now in memories so vivid he could almost touch the face of those who offended him. But such visions, that once would have prompted his fury, now only triggered a smile. Even with nostalgia towards the banality of his previous incarnation.
His situation made him see all of men as mere children. Immature spirits willing to hurt each other in order to obtain a minimum joy. Ready to crush their brothers like no other species or natural element is. He mocked them, their inability to recognize the nuance of silence or to be astonished staring at the sky. Same sky where great things may wait ahead if we can believe in our souls, and that suddenly, in an explosion of undecipherable beauty, decided to open its doors to our navigator.
The fog stopped as suddenly as it had once begun, and the quiet murmur became a roar. His elaborate fantasies took the form of a waterfall. Such simple and beautiful transition he could not help but blame himself for not having imagined it. The fall that was to swallow him approached stealthy while even more memories flickered on his mind. But never powerful enough to persuade him of his trail.
He knew what he had left behind. He knew them all by heart even if he hadn’t seen them in his whole life, and was aware that a return would only bring pain, one that this time he would no longer bear. He did this to avoid hurting anyone. He realized that now the mere sound of a human voice would annoy him to grandiose extremes for carelessly breaking the harmony of the world that was handed to us. If he saw one of these creatures again he might end up chasing it to its death. The foam hitting the rocks with fury never seen before seemed like the most sublime music to ever grace his ears. A symphony for freedom. He closed his eyes to hear it.
The paddle sank for the last time in the white foam of the cataract. And then, in a second that, although Θ could have sworn otherwise, took exactly the same as all of the previous ones, the boat glided down a predestined diagonal. The cold he had always felt was immediately replaced by the warm welcoming destined to whom having always dreamt with an unreachable star, now finally recognizes it in the glare of the pure liquid that devoured him.
Is it that he who lives under a halo of black smoke, must irredeemably die likewise? We hope not for you, sad traveler, you fall down perhaps lifeless already, between blazing lights of aquiferous salvation. You who took the world given to you for living and threw it overboard of a flimsy boat, we salute you with amazement, with repulsion nevermore. Get lost in the roar of the crystal clear waters and leave this place which you refused to embrace, disappear listening to the only sounds that you deigned to take for good, and grab the hand that perpetual life has offered.
Leave us behind so hopeless. Enjoy your eternal breeze.