Prologue
The mornings had not been the same ever since a white-sea mist enshrouded the bay. The sky was dark and the stars shadowed by the clouds. Rain water filled craters in the sand. The moat around the ruins of a sand castle was overflowing as it streamed through the cannels and into the sea. It was only drizzling, but before it had been heavy.
In the horizon, towering waves surged for the coastline. Great bodies of water slammed onto the rocks, spray flying in all directions.
“But does she feel close to me?” I thought to myself as I stood in silent dismay at the top of the cliff. In my right hand, I clutched the mirror even tighter. The wind grew exceedingly strong and sent the droplets of rain my way.
The villagers may find me strange standing in the torrent with only my nightwear on while they lie in their cosy warm beds, sleeping under the spell of the storm. I guess those that understood the whispering of the ocean would be standing next to me now, but as anyone would see, I’m alone.
It’s ironic, really. They, as living beings rely on water for cleansing, for drinking and for recreational activities. If it weren't for water, our world would be nothing but volcanic valleys and mountains.
And yet, water was their natural enemy. The wave struck the village two years ago, decimating the buildings and tearing away the vegetation from the coastline. It came suddenly and purged the village. The waters soon receded, along with piles of bricks and the weak. Those that lived on the higher parts of the plateau were lucky, for they were safe from the wave. Then, the outbreak of diseases came.
The rocky walls won’t last long. One day they too will be washed away with one mighty charge. Bit by bit they are being eroded. Look at them now, crashing for the main lands.
Was it an act of nature that the waves near the bottom of the world were that aggressive? Or were they after me? What is this...force that is behind the action of the waves?
I, myself, felt the concerns of the villagers, the fear of the waves finally breaking the defenses and wiping out the last of their civilization. But it was much more than that. They have lost many loved ones, friends and family alike, just like I did.
It was physically impossible to reach the lands at the bottom of the world. Any forms of transport were no match to the mighty elements that linger there, or so the villagers say. And yet, how did I end up here?
I remember being on a cruise liner returning to the main lands. My family and some of my friends and their families were on summer vacation on an island famous for its iconic scenery and as a popular tourist attraction.
It was very nice there, yet so hot. I was wearing a sun hat made of straw with an excessively large down turned brim, shades, a blue bikini top, walking shorts, and flip flops for my feet. My parents and friends worried that I would sunburn my back, but I did not, for my flowing hair was so long it shielded it completely. Many in my guild would say my hair was like a waterfall, because it was silky blue and shimmered in the sun.
The rooms in our hotel were so comfortable. The walls were made of brick which was a nice change to the boring wallpaper in my room. Pictures of various fish and of the island were pinned on the walls of our room. There was a balcony facing the beach. During the night, the breeze of the ocean would sweep into our rooms so the room was cool when we slept. I could hear the waves gently riveting the sands, influenced by the moon shining high in the jeweled sky.
We spent the days there going on the island tours, meeting and making new friends with the islanders there, getting to play in the fresh waters of the beach with my friends as we splash each other back and forth, but the best of all, shopping!
"Hey Waverly, check these out."
"Wait up guys; let me finish my ice cream."
They have such a great sense of fashion and their accessories were so exotic, so natural, unlike the artificial ones in the city's mall.
I was thankful to my family for organizing the trip and for inviting my friends. I was never alone and it was refreshing to experience another island's culture and lifestyle, which I may never see again. I loved them, but they were just plain, ordinary people really.
Anyways, we were returning to the main lands when slowly, storm clouds started forming in the distant. It was unusual, for the forecast magicians did not foretell the coming of a storm in the tropics.
And the next thing I knew, we were caught in the storm. I could hear screams erupting around me as the passengers crammed the main deck and I was squashed. I tried desperately to seek my family and friends within the crowd, but there were too many. I started getting seasick, due to the rocking of the boat caused by wave after wave striking the sides of the ship.
Then…I remember nothing, other than seeing darkness. And when I woke up…I was lying on some beach. I did not remember myself ending up in the ocean and struggling against the might of the waves, not even the slightest memory of it.
In fact, when I woke up, I was completely dry, which was strange. But that was the least of my worries. I soon realized that there was no way back to my home lands.
It has been three years, and I have been separated from my family and friends. Life was hard, for I have no one to express my feelings to, not in this world anyways. It pains me to think that I have no idea on what happened to them. Did they survive and make it to the main land, or were they sent to their watery graves?
I have nothing to hope that they were alive, except this feeling. Voices from the sea’s great beyond told me they were in a better place. They were right…to an extent. In our world, it was a popular belief that there were two realms, Life and Death. If you did not exist in Life, you existed in Death and vice versa. Those chosen could sense the presence of one’s Life force. However, there was a problem. I felt as though my family and friends existed in neither death nor Life, but somewhere in between. It cannot be. It was impossible in either magic or science that someone could exist in the Threshold that divides the two realms. It is like looking at a mirror. I am an entity existing in Life. My image may look like me, but it is an entity existing in Death. Then there was the mirror, acting as a Threshold. But you cannot exist inside the mirror, it was impossible. You were either staring at it, or as an image portrayed.
But really, Life was filled with hurt. Manipulated and controlled in every aspect. We were all born. We were raised by our parents, which were raised beforehand by theirs, being taught that growing up, being successful, getting a partner, having children and dying was the way to live.
But why must we have to do anything? It's just a means of control by some unknown force which we have yet to discover. We were trapped. No one can comprehend anything but the society we have been born into.
I can see that the waves at this moment were being controlled by this very force, doomed to sweep the beaches throughout the world until this force decides to set us free.
Waverly
)
No doubt about it.
