Willow of Endless Waters the Journey Begins Page 6

knees and wept. She knew she had lost her daughter to the endless waters.

  9

  The Story of Willow's Great-Great-Grandmother, Morven

  Days had gone by as Willow's mother paced the shore, looking for some sign that would give her hope that her dear, sweet Willow would be coming back to her. With fear in her heart, she knew her daughter had been reclaimed by Ellura of the endless waters. This was not the first time someone from her family had been lost there.

  When Audra was a small child, she had heard whispers from her grandmother about how one of the women in the village from long ago had yearned for a child. But after one of the storms, her husband had not returned from fishing in the endless waters. She paced the shore day after day, waiting for the return of her beloved husband. Many in the village began whispering that she had lost her mind.

  The poor woman sat at the water's edge and stared out at the waters for what seemed to be months, not tending to her daily chores, not even taking care of her personal needs. Some of the women of the village helped when they could. They brought her food and set it beside her without saying much of anything. When they did, the poor woman just sat, staring at the water. She refused much of the food, but did drink some of the teas left for her, which is the only thing that kept her going.

  One evening, the winds came, and the waves crashed against the shore, burning her face and body, yet she did not waver. She remained steadfast on the shore. Suddenly, the wave caught her and dragged her into the endless waters. She could not see anything, but she felt something or someone holding onto her as she was tossed about, and then everything went calm. She could not see, for the water was black, but she knew she was being pulled. She surrendered to the current, believing this must be the end and she would soon be reunited with her beloved. As she sunk further and further into unconsciousness, she thought she saw someone with a bundle in her arms drawing near. Then everything went blank.

  When she awoke, she was lying on the shore next to the bundle. She heard a small cooing sound coming from the bundle. As she reached down and pulled away the silver threads it was wrapped in, she saw the soft smile of a small child. But where did it come from? she wondered. Has someone from the village lost this child? Surely it could not have come from the endless waters. But the child was unlike any she had ever seen. She had golden hair and skin as soft as silk, with a hint of rose in her cheeks, and her eyes were as blue as the water. The woman wrapped her back up in the silver threads and held her close to her breast.

  Just as she was about to return to the village, she looked up to see the village women rushing toward her. As they drew near, the women feared they would find their friend a victim of the storm. Instead, there she stood, holding the precious child. The women said nothing; they simply stared. They asked her where she had gotten this child, and she only said it was lying next to her when she came to after the storm. They suggested that maybe a passing boat from across the endless water had been claimed by the storm and this small child somehow was spared and washed ashore. But she knew the child was a gift from the endless waters and did not mention what happened during the storm, for she feared they would think her mad and take the child from her.

  She returned to her home and set up to raise the child as her own. That evening, she drifted off to sleep with the tiny bundle in her arms. As she slept, she had a dream that a beautiful woman with long, silver hair and eyes as blue as the water came to her and told her the child's name was Morven, "gift of the sea."

  The next day, the woman took the child to the center of the village to introduce her to the other families and told them Morven would be her daughter from that day forward. Later, they returned to their home to prepare for the day. There was much to do, as the house was not prepared to have a small child, nor were there any clothes or a place for Morven to sleep. Morven's new mother unwrapped the silver threads that had cradled her baby and placed them where she held her treasures.

  Just as she had finished putting the treasure box away, many of the women in the village came to her home with gifts of clothing and items that were often presented to new mothers and their babies. Much fuss was made over the new child, yet it could not go unnoticed how different she was from the other babies in the village. Her skin was fair, while the skin of others was the color of amber; her hair shimmered with golden lights, while others had hair black as night. Yet she was so beautiful, the women could not take their eyes off of her.

  There was something special about this child, and anyone that saw her felt it. Though she had one new mother, every woman in the village wanted to hold her and be near her. A feeling of peace and serenity resonated when one held her. It was difficult to pull away from this tiny bundle. Just one look into her blue eyes, and she captured your heart and soul!

  She also was a very quiet baby, and when she and her new mother sat in the old rocking chair, close to the flickering fire, looking into each other's eyes, there was an understanding. It appeared they could read each other's minds. Morven and her mother had an instant bond that grew stronger and stronger.

  Growing Up in the Village

  At the age most children would be talking, few words were spoken between Morven and her mother, but that was never a problem for either of them, for they seemed to speak on a level beyond the spoken word. Of course, this caused much talk in the village. They never admitted to conversing this way, but how else would some of their behavior be explained? Morven would be playing quietly out on the knoll as the other children romped and chased each other, then suddenly get up and say to the others, "I have to go home now. My mother needs me." The children thought her strange but enjoyed being around her anyway. Some just sat around her quietly, just to be in her presence.

  One young boy in the village especially took to her. They would often sit together near the shore. Conversation was minimal as they sat on boulders, looking out at the endless waters. He was the only son of one of the fisherman on the other side of the village, and his parents felt a bit uneasy about their closeness, but he was a good child, and he seemed drawn to Morven, so they continued to permit his visits with her. Orin was a very gentle boy, often stopping in the meadow to pick Morven flowers to put in her hair. They stayed close all through their young years. It would not be long before the two of them would be joining in the festival. Everyone in the village knew Morven would pick Orin as her mate. They became inseparable, spending most of their time near the water's edge.

  Orin grew to be a strong lad, able to handle his father's fishing boat on the open waters while the other crew pulled in the nets. Everyone knew he would become one of the best boatmen in the village, and every time he went out to fish, they came back with the most and biggest fish of the day. Good fortune seemed to follow him on the water, no matter where they sailed. He would make a fine husband for any young woman in the village, but his heart was with Morven. When he was ashore, others always knew that where one was, the other would also be. And so it was.

  The time had almost come for Morven to enter the circle at the festival and choose her mate. Her mother prepared her dress with ribbons from her dress and her mother's dress. When she was finished, she had Morven try it on one last time before adding the final touches. Everything fit perfectly. The night before the festival, after Morven went to sleep, her mother took the dress out to the kitchen to add just one more thing to it. She tiptoed to her box, where she kept her treasured things, and removed a few of the silver threads that had been wrapped around Morven on that day on the shore.

  The moon was nearly full and shone brightly through the open window onto the dress. Morven's mother wove the silver threads through much of the fabric and then held it up in the moonlight. The dress itself began to illuminate the room. Tears began to flow down her cheeks, burning her soft skin. She knew then that someday she would lose Morven too.

  The sun rose in the village, and many were already preparing the site for the festival. One would think an event like this had never happened before, but the
event had been going on for as long as anyone could remember. Tables were set with flowers, and dishes of family specialties were placed around the center. The center was always prepared by the most successful family in the village, which meant the best fishermen. This festival's center dish was brought by Orin's family. It was from a great catch from the nets on their last trip to the endless waters.

  Excitement spread in the village as the festival started. First was the great feast, but of course what everyone was waiting for was the gathering of the young men and women on the knoll. As it had always been, the young men and their families took their places first. Then, when the moon was high in the night sky, the young girls began to enter the circle one by one. As each one entered, she chose her mate, and then she stood in front of the young man and his family.

  Morven was the oldest and thus entered the circle first. The moon appeared to be shining a ring of silver around her every move. No one could take their eyes off her beauty and the way her dress captured the moonlight. Only Morven and her mother knew the secret of the silver threads in her dress, and they never told a single person, for fear their own