One (Pilgrimage 3/3)

In response to Oakfern Mass Pilgrimage Part 3

Featuring Amadán and Amnah

Mentions of Lineera

Early Autumn, Year 769 of the New Age

Oakfern, the Sea

    The  usual chill of the caves was a far throw from the humid air of the  jungle, even after nightfall, when the sunlight couldn't burn through  the canopy and the moon could take its rightful place. Amnah had stuck  to the back of the group the past few nights. Conversation with most of  her herdmates had not come easy, as most seemed too afraid to raise  their voices or take their attention away from the shadows. 

    Amadán,  especially, had been growing irritable as the days went by. The stag  was impatient to see the sea, not for the length of the journey but for  his rising awareness of the dangers about. Discomforts, too. Amnah could  count the various bug bites on his hide and see just how caked his legs  were with mud, thick patches of which he’d often found himself stuck  in. To make matters worse, he had not been sleeping well; wild beasts  seemed to torment the stag both awake and at rest.

 

    He’d  had little patience for Amnah, too, for the forest life she attracted  if nothing else. Unlike Amadán, she’d found the local fauna vastly  intriguing, particularly the insects Amadán so readily squished or fled  from. Amnah was content to let most climb aboard to see them closer; and  while some were a bother, nipping at her skin or buzzing in her ears,  others were curious little wonders, crawling about harmlessly with  brilliant colors and bizarre bodies.

 

    A  shiny jewel beetle that must’ve been clinging to her mane came crawling  over her chest. Its bright green outsides were noticeable even in the  dim light. “Coming for a dip?” Amnah whispered. The herd’s energy had  turned electric and palpable as the forest opened. The ocean would soon  be upon them.

 

    The moment Lineera took off,  Amnah’s heart seemed to flip, as did her world. She looked up wildly to  see the shaman pelting away, a heartbeat before her eyes met the shimmer  of the water beyond, an expansive mirror to the great moon above.  Without thinking, Amnah kicked herself into a gallop after Lineera, a  pursuit several others joined her in. The sand below made her footfalls  awkward but it was far from enough to stop her. She couldn’t name what  had come over her, just that it was screaming for her to embrace the  tide before them, and without a breath of delay.

 

    They were there! They had made it! They were there! Vaguely she heard Lineera’s words echo in triumph, drowned out to Amnah’s ears as they dove into the water.

 

    Everything felt right in  her world when her body hit the sea. It was as though she could feel  everything, from the bodies dancing around her to the ever-watchful  light of the moon. A familiar tingling warmth was coursing through her  limbs. She knew this feeling, from long ago, she thought. It was feeling  of unbridled joy and peace, from when she was a mere child first  learning of Gealach’s light.

 

    This  was Gealach’s meaning, she thought. To be one with the water and her  kin. She could sense her herdmates move around her, young and old,  prancing and splashing and singing out in wonder of it all – and most of  all she could sense their magic, the water, that flew through the air  and churned around them. It was everywhere and yet here, binding them together as one force in the night, intertwined yet free.

 

    Was  this what it felt like to Amadán, what drove him to speak of it with  such reverence, like she’d once done effortlessly? She cast a glance  back towards the shore.

 

    Amadán had not run  with the rest. His legs felt weighted and foreign, like he needed to  teach himself to walk again, and he’d fall if he moved too quickly.  They’d felt increasingly disobedient as they followed the whispers of  water and the smell of salt, but had halted completely upon catching  sight of the horizon. It was right there, at last, and Amadán could hardly believe it.

 

    The  others were but blurs in his vision as they bolted past. His eyes fixed  on the white moon, staring down at him with such intensity that it set  his magic and his conscience on fire. The drums of his pulse and the  ocean were pounding into one and Amadán could barely keep his gaze held  high.

 

    He sank to his knees, half out of  devotion, half out of necessity. A mumbled prayer came tumbling from his  lips as he tried to find balance between praise and apology. To think  he could set his eyes on something so glorious, it brought forth more  fear and respect and awe than he could process.

 

    He  stayed that way for a long time, crouched in the sand. How long, he  couldn’t be sure, as he wrapped himself in the darkness of behind his  eyes and the rhythmic pulse of the sea. It was as though the waves  breathed with his own lungs; crashing over the shore as he inhaled,  retreating back to the depths as he exhaled. Hardly did he need to meet  its depths to feel its power. Part of him doubted he was even so worthy  to set foot in it.

 

    But in time, he did; he  raised himself up again, sand falling from his mane and face, and made  his careful way to the waves which came racing up to meet him. Its mists  had already wet his fur and salted his tongue when finally the water  touched his hooves. Amadán’s senses seemed to come alive. He was a fawn  again, tumbling into the tide and bucking for no reason other than to  move.

 

    He brought forth whirlpools and  flying spouts, swept them around him and cast them off again, letting  them burst and crash and wash over him as they so pleased. The water  stung his eyes but he let it – who could care, when Gealach’s gift was  incredible and endless and indomitable! How he wished this was where he could teach his children! A true glimpse into the impossibly infinite strength of Gealach’s gaze!

 

    When  his mind finally grew weary, and he joined those on the shore for  meditation, a veil of serenity fell over him, even as his heart kept  racing. He found himself with Amnah once more, and to his surprise she  openly discussed and praised and generally observed Gealach, as he might  expect any other shaman. It was unexpected, scarcely hearing her talk  of their deity as such – but then, how could it be? They had met the  grandeur of the ocean, he decided, of course it would stir her so.

 

    Their  herdmates gathered for celebrations amongst themselves as the days  passed. Amnah told him of the trances and herbs involved in her shamanic  rituals, and Amadán could not find the finest trace of bitterness in  his bones. He was content to listen and content to watch. The experience  of the shore was enough for him, even while lounging in the sand and  observing others play in the waves. Those with magic strong enough  walked on its surface or swam until they were but little specks in the  distance. At times, they went out so far it made his head spin. How far  did Her depths reach? Would they ever know? Would they ever need to  know, or was it just another wonder of Her waters?

 

    Water  had saved Amadán before. It had shown him a ray of light in the  darkness, and offered him a way to move in a way his body could not, at  ease and in control. Out in the open, Amadán danced with a partner that  let his spirit become greater, as if as large as the sea and just as  unchallenged. 

 

    How they would ever have to part, the thought not once crossed his mind.