It
begins with the forest, and the river, as it always does. Those origin places. Those quiet places that speak of home. Birdsong, the notes of water over rocks. Rustle of leaves and breaking of twigs. Melody of the green place. Around me the cathedral of trees feels older
than time. Gnarled roots. Moss beneath, canopies above. I'm lifted and calmed all at once. The peace here is unlike anything else. As I approach the river I see her,
luminescent. Standing waist-high in the
waters as if lit from within. I think of
the first time I saw her. More dream
than memory. She is tracing patterns in
the water with her hands; dancing with the river. A harmony I can almost hear. She turns at my approach, and smiles.
"Paul," she says, full of affection
yet slightly distracted. "Won't you
join me?"
I wade into the river until I find myself
beside her. We talk of other times,
previous meetings. She asks me about
Kiskuh, and riots, and my sister Rachel. I tell her I don't want to speak of the terrifying
demoness or any worldly concerns. Today
I just want to be a boy. Just a sixteen
year old boy standing in the waters with his friend. She takes my hand, knowing full well how
exhausting these years have been for me.
Her touch gives me strength, as though the
faint glow beneath her skin shares itself with me. She tells me the river is singing to us. Things of now, and things to come. This place of story where insights can be seen
and known. She asks me again if I'm
truly well, if I would speak my heart with her. I glance away, slightly ashamed, and tell her
I'm fine.
"Submerge with me," she asks, trying
to hide her sorrow. I’m hesitant. I know how powerful she is, how much she
carries. But it’s hard to resist this
girl who shines.
Embracing beneath the waters, our arms
around each other. Our flesh is held by
the flesh of the river.
In sweetness, in vigil and depth, we drift.
Glimmers, voices, stories. Pieces of light like the many faces of a
diamond. Past, present, future. Until death or parting. Too brief for context or clarity, but I notice
red. There is red in the water around
us.
Suspended in a single breath, it seems, or
perhaps a thousand breaths. This girl I
love; she feels utterly ancient in my arms. We float, and I wish I was kissing her.
I wish she was kissing me.
At last we part from our embrace, breaking
the river's surface, emerging once again into the cold light of day. I realise the river has carried us deeper into
the forest. Dusk is perhaps only a few
hours away now.
As we wade towards the river's edge and onto
dry land she asks me what I saw in our embrace.
Just dreams, I tell her. The
silly dreams of a teenaged boy. She
looks, smiles, but there is such sadness in it.
"That's upsetting, because you know I still
want to give you that gift. From my
heart to yours. At least think on it, Paul.
For me."
With equal sadness I shrug, looking away
too. "I have all the gifts I
need."
We sit on grass near the river's edge,
pondering our delicate friendship, letting the air dry our clothes and our
skin. She takes my hand, like she wants
to tell me something, and for some reason it makes me angry. I just want to enjoy the quiet with her. She knows the chaos of my life. I gently pull my hand away. She shakes her head and tells me the crows are
calling me. I tell her I hear nothing of
crows. She jabs a thumb over her
shoulder at the treeline at our backs.
"Love endures, Paul," she tells me
quietly. "That's what it does. It endures."
I force a smile full of hidden bitterness
and swirl my fingers in the mud, pretending to dance with the river's edge. Suddenly I'm pulled away. Then waking, walking, shifting, until I can
return.
When
I find the forest again the skies have grey in them. The trees and leaves and river are just as
reassuring, yet there is an anxiety in the air now. I’m not at rest, and the forest knows it. In the woods I notice light. I notice her. I follow the glow until I’m deep in the
cathedral of trees, surrounded by life. The
green everywhere is a comfort but I know the day will be fading soon.
I feel the first few drops of rain on my
face. I touch my cheek and see red on my
hands. A light spatter of blood from
above.
I’m worried now.
Ahead of me the shining girl is sitting amid
the undergrowth, eyes closed. There are
insects crawling across her shoulders, but she is unconcerned.
"I know how Kiskuh hurt you," she
tells me. "I know how much they all
hurt you. Then, and now, and to
come."
I sit down beside her, trying to ignore the
light spatter of red rain falling.
"I don't think you do know, to be frank. But I'm very grateful you're here."
She seems hurt by my words and I regret them
immediately, but not enough. For some
reason I’m angry with her. I don't want
to be angry with the most beautiful thing I have ever felt or seen. In an attempt at tenderness I mutter,
"It hurts me, this dreaming. This
broken selfhood. I haven't story enough to tell any of this."
She frowns, almost a scowl, and looks away. "It hurts me too, you know."
I wish I was kissing her, this shining
thing. I put my hand in hers and I feel
her light. I've saddened her, and I feel
awful. I tell her she was the only one
there for me when the demoness tried to steal my sister away. She was the only one when the streets were on
fire and wraiths ruled the rooftops.
That darkest of days.
She peers at me and tells me that despite all
this I’m still choosing to turn away from the gift she wants to give me.
But I already know what her gift will be. It will be a kiss that I should treasure. A beautiful kiss of such unimaginable sorrow
and pain. And, as always, I will be
expected to endure. I look away and tell
her I simply cannot carry anything more. I have enough gifts. I have her friendship. The greatest gift of all.
She swallows, nods, and we say no more about
it.
As friends we climb to our feet and journey
deeper into the trees. The sound of the
river grows distant. The melody of the
forest becomes quieter, heavier.
We come upon the broken crow in the
undergrowth. Its wings tremble, its neck
is twisted. The bird is close to death. Around us we hear other crows cawing, unseen. They have gathered for one of their own. My friend frowns and mutters of how familiar
this is, and how sad. An ancient
future. I ask her what she means but she
brushes my concerns away and tells me to focus on the blackbird.
I have never sung a dreaming thing to life
again. It seems impossible to me, even
here, despite my fondness for stories.
"You must be brave, Paul, and sing within
your heart. In rhythm with its
pulse."
I laugh, raising an eyebrow. "This is a thing of dreams, this bird."
"Still it lives. Still it is flesh. You know that."
I sigh and nod and take the crow into my
arms. I fold its wings back into place
and hold it to my chest.
But, in truth, I have no song in there but
her. A song so heavy in my heart that I
doubt it could ever quicken the pulse of this dying thing.
I sing of crosses, kingdoms, stolen children
and burning cities. I sing of age beyond
my years. Radiant, eternal dreaming, and
angels in the woods. I cry a little, then
a lot. Until I'm sobbing, doubled over
with the dying crow held against my breast.
The shining girl has tears in her eyes as
she witnesses me.
And then the wings of the crow suddenly
burst to life again, fanning and flapping in my arms. It breaks free of my hold, somehow healed, and
launches into the sky. It glides and
circles above us as the cawing of its brethren fills our ears.
Waking,
walking, shifting, until I can return. A
new kind of delight fills our steps among the trees. I feel lighter on my feet. My friend seems giddy with happiness for me,
her glow even brighter than usual in the gathering dusk. It is shining through her skin, her eyes and
even her hair. We hold hands. We act silly and dance around to amuse each
other. We play hide and seek among the
trees. Now I'm able to lift the lilting
leaves, and heal the broken stems of plants we come across. I feel our joy side by side, and I think about
kissing her. I think about the depth and
sadness of that kiss, feeling her heart as I do. Her heart is vast. Breath-taking and mysterious. I know her kiss might destroy me, in the end.
She senses my thoughts and pulls away a
little, dampening her frivolity in act of mercy that makes me ache.
I’m still a boy. Only sixteen.
But here among the trees I’m also much more. In a moment of uncharacteristic disregard I decide
to share my broken heart with her.
"I was raped once, you know."
She peers into the undergrowth, head
lowered. "I know."
"More than once, really. Not by Kiskuh. By wraith and shadow, and greed. It wasn’t entirely physical, but it was very,
very real."
I can see that she is trying to hold back
tears. "I know, my love."
"Your gift. It's a kiss, isn't it?"
The tears roll down her face now. "Yes, it is. But a kiss of true love. A kiss that has another gift hidden inside it.
A secret within a secret."
I ask her what hides within the kiss she
wants to give me.
"A name."
Horror, sorrow and beauty. I already know I would find all these things
upon her lips and within this secret name she speaks of. Truth enough to end a world, or birth one. I know how much she carries. More than me. So much more. I can see it in her eyes and feel it in her
light. So sweet, despite the burden. I've known it since the first sight and song. The first time her skin was with my skin, in
dreams.
Twilight deepens into darkness as we are
swallowed by the forest. Its melody
changes as the night creatures join the chorus.
The cabin is framed against a hillside of
exposed rock at the edge of a little clearing. Only the dreaming light of the moon illuminates
the cabin in the darkness. My friend
knows I'm terrified. Wordless, she urges
me on. I feel her heart and intention
like a wave pushing me towards the cabin.
I know she can't join me in there.
"Beloved," she mutters, and I look
back. "Love endures. Remember that."
I swallow, turn away from her empathic gaze,
and walk towards the cabin.
There is no song in my heart now. No ancient futures or newborn pasts. Only fear. And I think about what I’m unable to tell my
friend, though I'm sure she knows already. Part of me wishes to be annihilated in that
cabin. Not just death, but a final
death. Because I cannot share my truth
with her. That I’m tired of waking, walking,
shifting and returning. I’m tired of forests
and offered kisses and light that shines.
I’m the boy who saw the whole world die, but
I was left alive. I was there when the
first stone of hell was laid, and set. I
recall how heaven bled.
Inside the cabin, in the darkness, my breath
is stolen from my lungs. A talon fist
closes around my heart.
There, above the fireplace, my eight year
old sister is nailed to the wall in a hideous parody of crucifixion. Nails driven through her palms and feet. And worse, her throat has been slashed open. Rachel's entire form is soaked in her own blood.
"Holy
Mother of God..."
I press a fist to my lips in devastation. My little sister's eyes suddenly snap open and
she lifts her head. "Brother Bear..."
"Oh, Christ in Heaven help me..."
But I fear there is nothing divine in this
cabin with me.
"Help
me, Paul..."
I hurry to her, a hand at her cheek, my gaze
in hers, yet all too aware of the bloodied, gaping wound in her throat. My mind is a ruin. "Oh, God, Rach..."
"Paul..."
"Rach, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive
me..."
Suddenly she spits in my face and begins to
laugh. A hideous laugh, deep and
deranged. She hisses and snaps her teeth
at me like an animal.
"Kiss
me," she demands. "Look
upon your Christos, and love him."
Nausea and madness skitter through me like insects in my gut. "Am
I not beautiful, Paul? Don’t you want me?"
"What…what the fuck are you?"
"You
know exactly what I am. I am the God of
All Worlds. The God of Sacrifice. Love me. Endure me."
This sickening thing imitating my sister
begins to laugh again. I clamp both
hands to the wound in her throat, and I imagine the shining girl. I imagine kissing her, in light. In peace.
Under my breath I speak my heart, as best I can. "I love you, I love you, I love
you..."
Rachel peers at me with wild eyes and a
blood-smeared grin. "God, you're a
fucking idiot..."
"I love you, I love you, I love
you..."
"I
shall send my angels for you, Paul. All
of them. I'll slaughter every single child
upon this earth, eventually. I will eat
all of you. Tell that to your loving
God. Because in the face of a thing like
me, love is just a lie..."
I press my eyes shut and tell it the only
truth I know. "I'll be waiting, you
sick fuck, because I'm a lie that lives forever."
A surge of power passes from its wounded
throat into my palms, like black lightning. I collapse onto the cabin floor, spiralling
into deeper darkness.
I
awake outside, among the trees. I’m
covered in vines, lying in the undergrowth whilst being cradled by my shining
friend. Her beautiful blue eyes peer
down at me, full of love and sorrow and relief. I try to ask what happened but she shushes me.
She tells me to reserve my
strength. I can feel the vines twisted
around me, feeding me life, calming my psyche and strengthening my dreamflesh.
"I thought I was going to die in
there," I murmur weakly.
"I know."
"Part...part of me wanted to."
"I know, Paul. Please be quiet. I'm trying to heal you."
I look down at my own hands. The centre of my palms are faintly aglow
beneath my flesh, from where they had touched Rachel's wounded throat. Or, rather, the throat of the thing that took her
form. I ask the shining girl what it
means but she tells me again to be quiet. So I listen to the melody of the forest. Rustling leaves, cracking twigs, unseen things
moving in the undergrowth. Twilight is
taking the sky now. Dawn must be approaching,
and I wonder how long I remained in the darkness with that thing.
"I want it."
"Hush, beloved. Let me work."
"Listen to me. I want your kiss. I need it."
She peers down at me. I can feel both her desire and her
hesitation. "Paul...it's...it's not
a thing to be given or taken lightly. I
commend your bravery, but you are so exhausted. A broken boy. Soon to be a broken man. I've seen it. I've seen how it hurts you."
"Let me be broken with you then. Forget caution. Let me die carrying something of yours. I know
how much you carry. Let me ease your
sorrow."
"You're crazy, Paul. I truly love you, but please give this decision
the care it deserves."
"You know I love you too, and I don't
even know your name."
"Suddenly you want my kiss, and the secret
name hiding within it? Just like
that?"
"Please, just kiss me. Before I lose my courage."
She does as I ask, quickly pressing her lips
to mine. As desperate as I am. The kiss is warm and sweet and lingers just
long enough. Just a kiss, kind and true,
but I know I'm changed inside. When she
pulls away I lick my lower lip and smile up at her. She smiles back, almost bashful now.
"Tell me my name," I ask quietly.
She gazes at me for a moment before
responding. "Kasi."
Waking,
walking, shifting and returning. I have
been away, in the world of Man. I can
still feel her kiss upon my lips, but I’m sober now. I'm no longer drunk with lost love and
dreaming. The joy of her kiss feels
oddly distant, despite how I adore her. I'm
afraid to look into her eyes again. Afraid she'll see a rash, impulsive boy
unworthy of her depth.
When I find her, morning light is slicing
through the canopies. Fallen leaves are
swirling in patterns around her skirts as he commands them with her dancing
hands. She senses me and turns. The leaves lose their enchantment and flutter
to the ground. She seems happy to see
me, but cautious. Nervous, as I
expected.
I ask her what this secret name within her
kiss actually means. This new name of
mine. She tells me it means Beloved,
Shining One, and Mirror. She mutters something
under her breath. I ask her what she
said but she tries to brush away my curiosity. I ask again.
She peers at me, frowning. "It means all those things. Shining, Mirror, Beloved. But it can also mean reckless. Rash. Dangerous.
Frightening."
I can feel that we both already miss the
open sweetness of our friendship, before kisses and names were given. I know both of us are hurting, unsure of what
we did. A commitment that perhaps
neither of us is prepared for. To be so reckless,
and to love something so reckless. I
watch her turn away with sorrow in her heart, as though she has read enough of
my thoughts already.
We wander, we sit, we hold hands, but things
feel strange now.
"Is Rachel going to die one day?” I ask
her quietly. “Is that why it took her
form? Is that why Kiskuh tried to take
her from me that night?"
"I don't know. I can't know any of that, Paul. Too many futures. Too many choices. All I can do is love you, and sing with the
river. All you can do is love me, and
endure."
I take a deep, careful breath, nodding as I
peer at the sheer beauty of the trees all around us. The forest is magnificent. In silence it seems to connect us a little
better. She offers a sad smile, telling
me that she can't take it back. The kiss
and the secret name within it. A choice
that must be honoured.
"But I don’t want you to take it back,”
I tell her. “I know you’re in pain, just
like me. I will not be a coward, my
love. I’m terrified, but I will not let
you carry this alone. Not after what I
saw in there. What I felt. If that’s reckless I don’t care.”
“You’re incredibly romantic, Paul. But it comes with a price.”
I lie down beside her while she sits, and
place my head in her lap. “I think you
mean Kasi. ‘You’re incredibly romantic,
Kasi.’ ”
She laughs, a genuine laugh. My heart sings at the sound of it but still
I’m afraid, and confused. I feel so
young beside her, so mortal, so hardened and dark. Inexperienced in these ways of dreaming and
light.
"Tell me something, my love. Isn't this just one version of our
story? Just one version of our lives? This realm of dreams where humans and spirits
imagine each other into rapture, or devastation? Isn't that why the nameless thing came to the
earth, dressed as my sister? So that
humanity has something to vanquish one day?
To indirectly deepen our passion, so we can all know each other in new
ways? Didn't you and I call each other
here because we both so love the forest, and Mankind?"
She smiles down at me as tears well in her
eyes. "Paul, that’s beautiful. I think so, my love. I truly hope so."
“Then maybe there’s no real reason to be
afraid.”
“Maybe, sweetheart. But suffering is all too real, and I hate to
see things suffer. It kills me inside.”
“Me too,” I tell her. “That’s why I had to accept your gift,
reckless or not. If you suffer, my love,
I want to suffer with you. Even if it really
scares me.”
She kisses me again as I rest my head in her
lap. She is touched by my words. She knows I mean them. “Thank you, Kasi. You’re my sweetheart. You always have been.”
"I wish I could be with you, you know. Deeper than this. Realer than this."
"I know. But I haven’t even been born yet. We’re both children of war. You have work to do, Paul. We both do. For the soil and the stars."
I frown at her, perplexed, in love. "I'm still not sure how you know all
this."
"My Father told me."
I sigh, confused. "Angels?” She nods.
“Please tell your name at last. I
ache to know."
She looks away. "I have no name. None I can speak to you here, at least."
"But your father..."
"My Father is dead. For now." I can feel the torment in her voice, the
heaviness in her breast. I want to reach out to her but I can feel her bristle
at the thought of it.
Quietly I tell her, "I still don't
understand."
"Better that you don't."
A rustling slither suddenly
fills the air. The two of us share an
unsure glance at the source of the sound.
Vines seem to emerge from the undergrowth, snaking towards us. At first I think it's one of her own
enchantments, but then I sense her fear. I lift my head from her lap and sit up, as the
vines suddenly burst from the ground. They
coil themselves around her with terrifying speed.
She cries, "Paul…!"
I grab her arm but she is immediately torn
from my grasp. She screams again but
moments later her mouth is covered. The
vines are dragging her into a cavity in the forest floor. Suddenly everything is a nightmare. I watch as my nameless love is bound and
pulled mercilessly into the earth. Her
eyes are wide and terrified, and then she's gone.
The melody of the forest quickly resumes, sounding
now like a horrifying parody of peace.
I'm alone in the woods and clawing desperately at the earth. Sobbing, in vain. I can barely comprehend what has just occurred
and I think of Kiskuh, and wraiths, and the crucified mockery that took my
sister's form.
It seems that hell has indeed found our
quiet place.
The forest melody is growing faint now. The skies above the treeline are darkening to
a midwinter grey. The air is suddenly
colder and the breeze gathers into a wind blowing through clearing. I climb to my feet again, standing for a
moment in the unsettling grey.
"Well, look at you. Fucking hypocrite."
I spin round and see a tall man leaning
casually against a tree. Blue jeans,
black jacket. For a moment I can't
process what I'm looking at, until I realise I'm peering at an older version of
myself. Late thirties. The older Paul has a knife in his left hand. He smiles, and I’m shaken at seeing such
intensity in what appear to be my own eyes.
"Ain't love grand?” he says almost
jokingly, but his words are full of fury.
“Genocide, the death of innocents, rape, murder, assault. And war, let's not forget war. Especially holy war. And all wars are holy,
aren't they, tearful one?"
I back away, as angry as I am afraid now. "Leave me alone, you freak. I know what you are."
"Oh, do you? Pray tell."
"You're fucking evil incarnate."
"Am I? I'm you,
idiot."
"I don't think so."
The rage in his voice is terrifying. "You're a fool. I don't give a fuck what you think. You're
nothing but an ignorant child, bloated on the spoils of war and slavery. Too unwittingly devoted to your wraith-priests
to know anything about real freedom, beyond your vague posturing. Freedom hurts, kid. Love hurts. Cherishing someone hurts. And freeing an entire race from slavery? That takes teamwork, and sacrifice. Something you know nothing about."
"Leave me alone."
"Better that the self-proclaimed God of
All Worlds devours you right here, right now. Better that than to offer false hope to the
hopeless. A hope you don't really want to
fight for, right?"
"Fuck you."
He laughs at me, tilting his head. "Oh, they fucked me many times. They fucked both of us, didn’t they? And the lost ones. The grieving ones. The tormented ones. Who're you fighting for, kid? For her?
Bitch, you don't even know her name.”
Tears are rolling down my cheeks now, but he won’t stop. "You think I give a fuck about some
little nature sprite when the entire world is in peril? Do you?
ANSWER ME."
I feel pinned by the wildness in his eyes. "I don't...I don't know."
"Well, I do give a fuck about her, and all of them. But do you?
"Yes..."
"Don't fucking lie to me, kid. Don't you recognise me?"
"You're...you're me."
"Oh, I'm more than just you. I'm something terrifying. But I'm trying to help you. I just can't stand cowards and posers."
"Please leave me alone."
He takes a few steps towards me, knife in
hand. "I need you to have depth,
Paul. Real depth. Not perfection, not poise, but depth. And strength."
"I don't understand..."
"I need you to endure."
There among the trees I shake my head and
begin to cry. "I can't..."
"Why not?"
"I'm so tired."
"I don't care if you’re tired. Abuse victims are tired. Grieving parents of murdered children are
tired. Families broken and displaced by endless
wars are tired. You have no fucking idea
what tired is yet. Believe me."
"Then just kill me,” I tell him. “Because this endless hall of mirrors is just
horrifying."
"She won't let you die yet, and neither
will I." He moves closer, knife in
hand. "Listen to me. I've seen everything you've seen, and more. Much more. I've seen angels fall from heaven and hit the
ground like gutted stars. Wailing,
shrieking, because they betrayed their Father. Because they can't even remember their Mother.
So, who the fuck are you, kid? Are you loved, are you shining? Are you a mirror when it's needed? Tell me your name."
"I can't take this,” I confess to the
older Paul. “I'm just a boy. I don't even know who the fuck I am, really. All I know is poetry and stories. That’s it.
All I have is dreams."
He is peering at me, but his expression
softens slightly. "Me too, kid. Me too. Your mother, and Rachel, and the shining girl.
If you care about them, show me. If you love her, prove it. Honour the kiss
she gave you, angel."
We are face to face now. I gaze at this man, this thing that appears to
be an older version of myself. I really
do want kindness to be real. I want true
love to actually mean something. In my
heart I give in completely to her gift, her kiss, and the name hidden within it. I feel my defences crumble as I glance down
at the knife in the hand of the older Paul.
"Ok. Do it."
In an almost graceful motion he whips at me
with the knife, slitting open my throat.
I
am slumped in a sitting position against the base of a tree, the cathedral of life
all around me. I recognise I'm bleeding
to death but I'm struck by the magnificence of the trees. Leaves like a sea of green held in the
branches. I can feel my own blood spilling
across my chest as my heart-rate quickly slows. I have only minutes left, maybe less. At first it’s agonising and strange, then only
strange. I can't really feel any pain
now, nor barely move. My throat is too
ruined to speak even if I wanted to.
Before me, the older Paul squats in the
undergrowth. Bloodied knife still in
hand.
"You're going to die here, Paul. Alone in these woods. But it's going to be ok. I'm sorry we had to do it this way, my boy. But Love is the most important thing in
Creation. All else must serve,
consciously or otherwise. So, let's see
what kind of wolf is left in these bones. Are you ready to tell me your name?”
There is warmth in his eyes now, and I
manage to smile as my consciousness begins to slip away.
My
Name is Kasi.
"Then perhaps love might actually have
a shot at conquering all of this, one day."
The knife in his hand dissolves. The skin of the older Paul begins to split and
bleed and blacken. He begins to give off
smoke, as through igniting from within. Then
his hands and face suddenly burst into flame. His entire form begins to glow and crumble
into dust, revealing the shining girl beneath.
She is peering at me with eyes of such
tenderness and gratitude. A love in her
expression unlike anything I've ever known.
Asha?
She
nods, her heart in mine. I smile at her
as I bleed to death against the tree, as my life is finally extinguished.
Embracing
beneath the waters, our arms around each other. Our flesh is held by the flesh of the river.
In sweetness, in vigil and depth, we drift. Glimmers, voices, stories. Pieces of light like the many faces of a
diamond. Past, present, future. Until death or parting. I notice red. There is red in the water around us.
Suspended in a final breath, or perhaps a
first breath. This girl I love; she
feels utterly ancient in my arms. We
float, and I’m kissing her.
She is kissing me in return.
At last we part from our embrace, breaking
the river's surface, emerging into the warmth of day. We wade towards the river's edge and collapse
on the shore, smiling and peering at each other, our feet still in the water.
She nuzzles close to me now, her face
against my neck. "Are you ok, my
love?"
"I'm ok. I was very afraid. I was literally dying. But I'm ok now."
"Dying?
Kasi, are you serious?" She peers at me questioningly. She looks horrified but I say nothing. I continue to hold her. She nuzzles me again. Quietly she says, "The river runs with
truth, my love. And spiritual
light. Those visions it offers are very
real. I drowned there once, until I
found you. Please tell me you’re
joking. Please tell me the waters
touched you with kindness."
"They did."
"Then tell me what you saw, my love. Tell me what you lived."
"There was a gift. You gave me a gift. It was my name."
"I don’t understand. I’ve already given you your name. I’m the one who’s waiting now."
"You've been nameless for too long, I
think."
She nudges me playfully. "Kasi, I've been waiting with bated
breath for your answer since we first met!"
"I know."
I can hear the genuine delight in her voice.
"And she gave it to you? The river gave your heart my secret name at
last?"
"She did, actually. A name that's threaded through many stories
and legends, I suspect. Just like my magnificent
girl. Of dawning light, and life. And power.”
She looks at me again, grinning now. "Kasi, just tell me! Don't keep me in suspense any longer..."
I smile, pressing my lips to her ear as I
whisper her name.
* * *