UWW `05

The Legend.

The waves slowly retreated from the shore, leaving rivulets of water trapped between slight undulations in the sand caused by their rhythmic movement.

Scrambling hurriedly down the narrow path towards the beach Gideon stumbled over an exposed root, plunging a myriad of loose stones to the abyss below. Pausing momentarily to regain his balance, he pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Though still early in the day, heat from the rising sun sweltered in front of his eyes, and a bead of sweat rolled down his upper lip. As the salty tang entered his mouth Gideon shivered involuntarily: his quarry lay below, and he was resolute in his task.

Quartz embedded in the rocks around him caught the sun's rays as he entered the cave, as if to light his way. From a small, well concealed opening, the cave took on the proportions of a concert hall, complete with domed ceiling; and the sand under his feet gave way to rock as he made his way deeper into the chamber. Straight ahead an archway of granite loomed ominously, casting dark shadows all around it. Surprisingly, Gideon realised that he wasn't afraid. The hairs prickled at the back of his neack, and his palms felt moist, but he wasn't afraid. He sensed in himself a heightened awareness, an acuity of perception hitherto unknown.

Inside the archway was a pool of silvery liquid the consistency of mercury. As he peered into the pool Gideon saw first his reflection, unnaturally pale in the greenish blue light; then, as vapour rose from the pool, the liquid cleared, and he saw another chamber at the end of an underwater tunnel. "The Inner Sanctum, or at least a way of getting into it perhaps." Gideon spoke almost inaudibly, as if scared of breaking a spell with the sound of his voice. Answers to questions he had yet to ask suddenly flooded his head. Since the summer solstice Gideon had been at a variance, both with those around him, and with himself: it was as though the person he had been all his life had disappeared, and a complete stranger had taken his place. He understood only too well the confusion his family and friend felt, for he too was mystified by the changes in his behaviour. Today it all started to make sense; the legend had begun to unfold.

Gideon couldn't remember a time when he didn't know about the legend, he had absorbed it's essence since the womb, as they all had since time immemorial. It was as much a part of them as they were of it, and yet it remained elusive. Ever changing, it was a tale of battles fought and won; of mythical monsters and magical beings; of fame, fortune and great wealth; of fear and despair; of loss. The legend was revered above all other gods: it alone was omnipotent. It came to few, but was felt by all; it arrived unannounced, but departed headline news. It came with a life and mind of it's own, and none could divert it from it's course. And it was back. This time the legend was Gideon's, and for him alone were there choices to be made, though the consequences would be far reaching.

Gazing into the pool again, Gideon realised that he had already started to make his choices: he would not be here otherwise, for the cave was forbidden to all but the elders in his village. He knew that the cave had strange powers that were reputedly linked to the legend, but only the elders were party to the nature of these powers. Had he not disobeyed the rules, it would be at least another thirty years before he learned the truth, and even that rested on the supposition that he would be deemed worthy of the rank, which, given his present location, was unlikely! Choices already made had set him on a path from which he could no longer turn back. Grateful now for his recent and inexplicable devotion to the art of swimming underwater, Gideon put his glasses in the pocket of his shirt and dived into the pool, seeking the tunnel and chamber he had seen.

The tunnel was formed out of rock, yet miraculously was very bright. Gideon sensed that as long as he headed towards the light, he would surface in the chamber he had seen. Kicking out vigorously, he could feel the pressure in his lungs increasing, and he started to exhale slowly as instructed by his brother Josh, who had helped him with his swimming that summer. At last he emerged from the tunnel and thrust upwards towards the light, gasping for air. The second chamber seemed even larger than the first, and unbelievably bright. Blinking, Gideon swam to the side of the pool and scrambled on to the rock floor. Putting his glasses back on he looked around him. That the chamber was indeed larger paled into insignificance in comparison with the irradiance of the light. Again the walls of the chamber were embedded with some kind of gem, and although he didn't think he'd seen anything quite like it before, Gideon knew for certain that the stones weren't quartz.

The light continued to puzzle him: he understood that the gems, whatever they were, were reflecting the light, but where on earth was the source of the light; he was both underground and underwater after all? About thirty feet to his left was a large slab of slate which was beginning to flake in places. On top of this was a creamy, opaque obelisk, possibly twelve inches in height. His curiosity distracted him momentarily from the puzzle of the light, and he walked towards the obelisk. Heat enveloped him as he stretched out his hand to grasp it, and the faint shimmer that had surrounded it moments earlier now seemed to shake the chamber around him. Incessant drumming in his ears intensified until he could stand it no longer, and in desperation clasped his hands over them. Sweat poured down his face as he fought to quell the nausea that had overwhelmed him. Too late he realised he was falling through the air, where previously there had been rock. How strange, it was just like the sensation of having a wave break over you, sending you blindly spinning in all directions.

Gideon awoke feeling sluggish: every bit of him ached, and his mouth felt as though he'd swallowed an ocean, he was so thirsty. Opening his eyes slightly he was greeted by a blur; his glasses must have come off during the fall, if that was what you could call it. Closing his eyes again, Gideon knew that he would have to search for his glasses soon, but for now he was incapable of thought, let alone movement.

Again he was falling... out of the tree in the back yard; off the shed roof; from the bridge over the stream where their pirate ship twigs battled for supremacy... his mother's face, saddened by his disobedience, yet always loving and forgiving zoomed in so close he could swear he felt her breath on his cheeks. He certainly saw the tears in her eyes, and felt for the first time the pain in her heart.

Again he was falling... flat on his face as he tripped over a stone that he hadn't seen, he'd been looking so far ahead; head over heels in his eagerness to get to the ball first; in a heap at the feet of the elder whom he'd mocked from behind for his slow and measured pace... he saw the kindness with which he'd been lifted to his feet by the elder. He saw that a slower pace meant that nobody ever got left behind.

Again he was falling... the faces of those he had ridiculed swarmed in on him from above, each clamouring to take the lead. As they vied for position they disintegrated into extreme caricatures of themselves, red, furious and angry, just like the sketches he had drawn in his pad. Except that these possessed a life force like no other that he had seen, filled with contempt and rage. The frustration he saw in their faces mirrored his own at the slowness of everything.

The chamber reverberated with the sound of gnashing teeth, angry cries, and desperate howls. A seething mass of distorted shapes and colours loomed in and out, keeping time with his pounding heart. He saw the obelisk before him, it's creaminess promising salvation from his torment, and reached out his hand...

The waves slowly retreated from the shore, leaving rivulets of water trapped between slight undulations in the sand caused by their rhythmic movement.