The Shore

Inspiration: Artist - A Winged Victory for the Sullen; Album - A Winged Victory for the Sullen; Track - Steep Hills of Vicodin Tears

The water lapped at his knees. The old man was standing in shallow saltwater, a long trudge offshore with the setting sun before him. He stood staring at a massive boulder, submerged in the sea. The rock cast a long shadow over him, foreboding in its massiveness. It stank of sorcery. The elder took a step toward the monolith, at the same time pulling the rope he had tied to the wrists of the young man who stood shivering behind him, head hanging. The elder bared his teeth at the rock as his rage filled him.

“This is the last…“ He gritted his teeth. He would end this.

The youth groaned. Turning back, the elder pulled his captive toward the stone, pushing the boy face first against the rock. Quickly he bent down while drawing a curved dagger, cutting through both tendons at the back of the boy’s feet. He screamed wordlessly, crumpling into the salty water. The old man blinked back hot tears as the boy continued to scream, burning hot iron into his soul. Dropping the blade into the water, the elder turned back toward the shore, away from the boy as he bled into the rising tide. He knew what he would have to endure.

“Kalay!”

He kept walking, forcing his legs to push through the water. For little Shuru and the other children, who lie in fever.

“Kalay!”

“Kalay!!”

For the village, for the Enkhal. The old man wept openly now, clawing at his beard and hair. Blood streamed down his face. He kept walking, the sun slipping behind the horizon.

“Kalay!!!...”

Grandfather.

He reached the shore.