The Waters Hunger

My lungs heaved as they drew in breaths of air gravid with droplets of warm morning mist. The fading sun bled through the haze as though through a thick sheet of gauze, casting a bleary light on the moorland below. My toes curled around the spongy peat as my bare feet sunk into it with every step. My eyes were set ahead on the moorland before me. There was no turning back now.

"Do you know where you're going?" my traveling companion asked with incredulous horror.

She stepped in front of me, interrupting my stupor. Her long dark hair billowed freely in the breeze along with the hem of her white dress.

"Yes, of course I know," I replied.

"Then turn around," she urged, "you know what awaits you there."

I smiled, my eyes tired and worn. "That is precisely why I am going."

She laid her tender hand upon my chest. For a moment, my heart fluttered. I had forgotten how much I had missed her touch.

She spoke softly, her eyes never wavering from mine, "The waters of the Pool, an ancient power holds sway over them. Bathe yourself in them and you loose all that you were, all that you are, and all that will be of you. You will cease to exist, my love. Whatever remains after you emerge will be a blank slate. You will be gone."

A single tear welled in the corner of my eye as I clasped her hand in mind. "Then it is true-"

"Oblivion," she reminded me.

"Absolution," I corrected.

She opened her mouth as if to speak but then swallowed the words as they came to her. With a deep relenting breath, she slipped her hand from mine and a sudden coldness overtook me. She stood hardly a pace away, trying to reach me with that deep reproving yet loving stare, a gaze that she had used thousands of times when she was clearly right. Something in me craved to reach for her, to hold her as I had done an untold number of times, but I did not. I did not deserve that warmth. I deserved only the Pool. With no other recourse, I resumed my march.

She walked close behind me as I continued down the path. The mists slowly burned in the rising languid sun. The hours stretched impassively as my legs ached. Each step felt like a letter carved into stone, like a natural conclusion resolved in a simple unavoidable act. My destination felt as if there were no other possibility, as if this desolate stretch of moorland were destined for me and me alone. The day's light waned as I followed the path to the crest of a hill. My hairs stood on end as I beheld a the true expanse of the moorland nestled within this valley. My companion and I were truly alone here.

Then her voice rang again in my ear as she clasped her hand in mine. "What you seek cannot be found here, my love. The waters only take, they do not give."

"That is precisely what I need them to do. Let them erase the gouging scars left upon my heart so I can start anew. Please, my love."

She shook her head. "Time is the healer of all things. Your wounds will fade."

I hung my head as I choked upon the words. "It has been a year and more. My wounds are as fresh as the day they were made. If the hours will not cleanse me of this pain, I must resort to the water."

"Your soul is already clean, my love. You have no need of the Pool."

The tears welled in my eyes, threatening to burst forth. "Then why do I feel I must go?"

She made a long solemn sigh before answering. "What you feel is the siren song of the Moor. The Waters hunger. They sense your despair. They taste your guilt... your false guilt..."

A low grumble escaped my throat, and the words that spewed forth felt like acid on my tongue. "What I feel is not false. You know that as well as I."

She regarded me with that same look once more, this time with a gentle nod of her head. A bittersweet feeling overtook me, one that quickly drowned within me amidst a bitter flood. I cast my eyes away to avoid the torrent and instead set my feet to the path once more.

Dusk was fast approaching as the Pool came in sight. For the first moment in my journey, I felt myself exhale and accept some measure of relief. The stars and moon shone brightly overhead, each of them watching closely as I removed my jacket and shirt. The air was cool and crisp, welcoming, inviting. The waters swallowed the heat of the summer and promised me their cold embrace.

It was then that my love clasped her hand in mine with a reassuring squeeze as I approached the bank. She turned me towards her but I refused to meet her eyes.

"It's never too late," she urged, "never."

I looked up to meet her face, only to find the empty path from which I had come. She was gone, just like she had been for a year. I raised my right hand and inspected the silver band that still hung around my ring finger. It was then that I realized what I refused to acknowledge: that I was completely and utterly alone.

Then, with that surge of pain, my eyes were drawn once more to the Pool, the cold embrace of its Waters. I pressed my hand to my aching chest and felt the rhythm of my lungs and heart. It was time. I slid the ring from my finger and dropped it in the peat. With a silent prayer, I fell forward and let go.

Water rushed past my ears and stung my eyes. By instinct I held some of the air in my lungs and closed my mouth. Bubbles formed in my nose as my body drifted slowly down. In short order, I was embraced. The Water clung to my garments like a thousand invisible hands dragging me further within. My torso spun upward and my eyes opened, welcoming the acidic sting of the Pool. What they beheld was like something from a dream. Black and violet strands of midnight held stars in their orbits, both above and below me. As I sank ever deeper it looked as though I drifted amidst a sea of void and starlight. Nebulous clouds of cerulean and incarnadine enveloped me and held me in their phantasmic clutch. Wisps of light gathered and danced at my fingertips. With their frolicking they carried away all worry and doubt. High above the moon shone bright, the monarch of this celestial ball in the halcyon court of Night. It was peaceful, enrapturing, a waking dream to every sense. With the eclipsing of this eldritch bliss, I nearly ignored the burning of my lungs and the lingering temptation that gnawed at the furthest reaches of my mind: to let the Waters in.

"It is never too late," the memory of her voice rang.

A blackness crept in from the fringes of my vision. Wisps of shadow pulled against the colors of the stars and the moon, dragging them ever deeper along with me. The wisps of light too fled at their arrival, their purpose now complete. I felt its tendrils caress and prod and tug at my legs and waist as I struggled to swim in any direction but down. The Waters had their quarry.

"Forgive."

My lungs rioted inside my chest, begging for the sweet release of air that did not exist. I swam and clawed at what I hoped was upward. Every care that led me here, every worry, every regret, faded into singular oblivion. Nothing mattered but the Waters. It was true, and there was no escape from their maw.

"It is never too late."

My lips quivered as every inch of my body begged for release. She had been right, she had been right all along. I must live, I must live for her.

In the moment before surrender, the moment before release, I felt a gentle hand grab mine and pull.

My chest heaved as my lungs drew forth a desperate breath. They were met with the sweetest air. In moments, the black receded from my eyes. I was sat in a pool of water that could not have been more than two inches deep. The sun beat down onto the Moor, with no other souls in sight.

The only thing of note was the glint of a small silver wedding band in the peat at the edge of the Pool. I picked it up and put it on my finger and held it up to admire it in the sun. All was finally right,

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This story is loosely inspired by the song 'Redemption' by Cellar Darling and the River Lethe from Greek mythology.

Never drown, ask for help. It is never too late.

This story has been submitted to the "You Were Never Really Here" Challenge.