There is a myth in our tiny village. One that stretches back generations about the nearby cliffs. Their sheer heights were a constant, ominous reminder.
The myth spoke of a young man that climbed to the cliffs’ precipice and stood upon the edge of oblivion. There, he heard the ancient gods calling out to him, while the waves crashed and churned far below. Their call was clear against the howling gales that threatened to tear him from his fragile perch, casting him down to his doom. He felt a powerful yearning and leapt. The gods caught him in a warm embrace. Nobody saw him again. Over the years, some tried to reenact the myth. They never made it far. Their deaths only deepened the dark myth.
To me, and others my age, the myth was a deterrent our parents used to chastise us. And so, children being children, we often tested our resolve against the heights, despite the scoldings and beatings we received each week.
As we grew older, we finally saw the dangers of our little trials of courage. We drifted away from the enticing cliffs one by one, choosing instead to focus on the paths laid out for us by the village. I was the last to turn away, yet each night I stared at the night-shrouded cliffs and wondered whether there ever was any truth to the myth.
It was on such a night, as I stared into the darkness, that I met her. She approached from behind, her footsteps light and muffled by the soft sand and gentle lapping tide. I did not know she was there until her voice called my name. Startled, I spun around, the cliffs’ mesmerising spell broken momentarily. I felt a new spell cast upon me as I stared into her dazzling, star-lit eyes. Our meeting that night had kindled a flame within us, and we were inseparable. But even with her beside me, thoughts of the cliffs still wormed their way into my mind and there they festered like an infected wound. I felt torn; stay with her or attempt the climb. My soul was in endless turmoil. Even as my love for her grew, so did the ravenous hunger to uncover the truth of the myth.
One night, I awoke in a cold sweat. My skin was clammy, and I shuddered at the slightest breeze. I detached myself from the bedding and I crept out of the room. The cool night air smelt of salt drifting off the surf. I inhaled deeply and glanced up at the cliffs that bathed in the pale wash of moonlight. An abrupt urge overwhelmed me, stripping my mind of all thoughts but one.
I need to know.
I walked until the cliffs rose before me, eclipsing the night sky. I placed my hand upon an all-too-familiar section of the cliff face. It felt warm to my touch, and a sense of nostalgia rolled over me. My grip on the jutting piece tightened. My free hand took its place beside its partner. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, and on the exhale, began my ascent.
The climb was tedious and my limbs pleaded and yearned for rest, but I endured and kept my course. I found precarious holds only revealed to me by the moon’s light. It was as if even the moon urged me on.
Crack.
The rock beneath me gave way, and I lost my footing. My arms screamed in protest as my body dangled at a dizzying height while my feet scrambled for new footing. Blood pounded in my ears, and my vision blurred. I could feel my fingers slipping. My feet found traction. I sighed in relief and resumed my journey.
I do not remember how much time passed by as I clawed my way up those deadly cliffs. It felt like an eternity. And then I saw it. The summit.
Suddenly, a howling gale swelled and buffeted me, threatening to tear me from the cliff. I hunkered against the torrent, digging my nails into the rough stone. The howling ceased, and I scrambled up over the cliff’s edge, rolling over onto its flat surface.
I remained there for a time, gulping for air like a beached fish. My limbs felt like lead and my head rang with the pounding of my heart. Staring up at the dazzling stars high above me, a single thought came to mind.
I’ve done it.
As my racing heart slowed and the pounding in my ears subsided, I caught the faintest voice on the wind. I calmed my ragged breath and cocked my head, trying to make sense of the voice. It grew louder, clearer. I propped up onto my elbows and glanced toward its source. I could only describe what I heard as a melody befitting the heavens, calling for me to join it. The tune caressed my mind, and I could feel the tormented years of ignorance slipping away. Peace descended upon me, blanketing me in the soft embrace of a lover.
I rose to greet it.
The wind roared as I strode to the precipice and stared out across the horizon. The melody intensified, tugging at my soul. I desperately wished to join it. It was the only thing that made sense in my mind. The only thought that was permitted as the melody reached its crescendo. I looked down at the tumultuous sea, and at its centre I saw a fleck of light glinting in the darkness. It was there that the voice emanated.
Ah, such warmth hummed from there. Who could refuse this sweet call?
I stepped off the edge.
As I plummeted down towards those inky depths, the sweet voice changed its tune. In its place, a horror emerged. A hideous creature given shape. It reached up to me with writhing tentacles. Its gaze enthralled me, and I realised I was just a mere speck in its existence. I fell to my doom.
I am a fool.
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