The Pool's Edge

The Pool’s Edge

by

P. A. Matthews

         A haunting melody of wind buffeted against rock, blending the rhythms of trickling water into a symphony of nature. Kieran paused, relishing the cave’s song mystically drawing him deeper into hidden recesses.

         His torch held aloft, Kieran carefully walked the labyrinth’s passages, searching the walls for the markings of his previous trips. Running his hands along rock brought Kieran in tune with his environment, the tactile pressure a reassurance his quest would end.

         Kieran reached the cave’s center, the glow of the pool casting eerily colored shadows down moisture-laden walls. The smell of the water blossomed in his head, enticing him with a scent of ecstasy.

         He remembered his search had begun as a test of wilderness endurance—twenty years of searching had led to this cave, an additional ten years made his labyrinth study complete. Now, Kieran gazed into the pool, realizing his search might yield a new reign of power.

         Removing his hooded cloak, Kieran laid out the needed elements. Lifting his oaken staff, he played his fingers along hewn wood from the sacred grove, sensing its power. Kieran summoned the strength of his thousand years, and raised the staff, praying to his god Dagda.

         Kieran struck the water three times, reciting a druid song, and then laid upon the ground in obeisance. The water stirred, growing to a boil; Kieran allowed the pungent aroma of ancient water to claim him. The water rose, turning on its axis until it resembled a looking glass.

         A voice spoke. “You brought yourself grave peril by calling me from the Underworld; do not misinterpret this as sanctification of power.”

         Kieran took runes from his bundle, laying their pattern to enable understanding. “I request knowledge.”

         The water rumbled. “Why do you lie?”

         Kieran’s heart hardened at the mention of lying. Glancing at the runes, he attempted understanding their casting, unsure if he should continue.

         “Kieran, you are denied further knowledge, do not seek me until what you understand is your need. Your quest begins anew; go back to your people and lead them with the power you possess.”

         He had decided this was his quest—the Underworld and its ultimate power. “I am a high druid, dwelling among the ancients and their lands. I ask you grant me knowledge that I may lead as those dwelling within your realm.”

         “The water became agitated. “You desire this?”

         Kieran stared at his reflection and nodded.

         “Step to the pool’s edge Kieran and accept the Underworld’s power.”

         Kieran obliged, soon he would become a demi-god. As he teetered on the edge, the water drew him into its liquid depth. The haunted sounds of disembodied cries entered Kieran’s ears as he drifted lower. Unable to cover his ears, he listened to a canticle of everlasting horror.

         The water strengthened as Kieran’s descent to the Underworld quickened; soon, he was cast upon the shores of a violent river. The spirit spoke, each word ricocheting off the craggy walls, as it rose before Kieran in a waterfall.

         “Stand and face me.”

         Kieran stood, bowing his head in submission.

         The water spoke with command. “You have been tempted by power within the human realm, deluded that this power would allow you to become a demi-god. You have sought the Underworld thinking this gift is bestowed to those who diligently search, by granting enlightenment you would enslave your people.”

         Kieran’s guts clenched as each word spoken resounded in his head. He fell to his face to try and pay homage.

         The voice rang with anger. “Stand!”

         Kieran rose. “I did not realize my temptation led to destruction.”

         “Liar!”

         Kieran’s insides burned with a fire that grew until it possessed. He watched the waterfall reform into a giant with a glistening crown of jewels upon his head; each jewel dripping rivulets of moisture Kieran knew represented knowledge. The giant began to glow, filling the cave with a prismed light.

         “Kieran, walk toward the wall, tell me what you find.”

         Kieran obeyed, his fear growing with each step. He stopped, horrified with his discovery.

         “Kieran, you have not spoken.”

         “I do not understand what I see.”

         The water laughed. “And you thought yourself enlightened enough for more power. What do you see?”

         “I see the entrapment of screaming, desperate people.”

         “Yes. Look upon those whose assumption of the Underworld possessed their quest and enslaved them.”

         Kieran wished he had his runes to reveal this truth. “Torment lies heavy upon each face, their continual crying of tears for forgiveness has built crystalline coffins from which they stare and plead. I see their faces pressed close against the crystal coffins, and how their hands attempt to break free of their everlasting torture.”

         “These are the living who desired to be demi-gods. What would appease the Underworld to grant these fools’ release?”

         “I do not know.”

         “Because you are a high druid, you will be spared torment—for now.”

         “Thank you.”

         “Kieran, you misunderstood your first quest. This will be your new challenge—you are required to find enlightenment that will release these souls to you. If you are unable to secure knowledge, you will become enslaved by your tears of regret. Do you understand?”

         “No.”

         “You will wander the cave until you do. Your quest begins now; always remember this was your choice. You have not entered the Underworld, but linger on its borders until you are proven worthy.”

         The giant slipped into the river as Kieran stared. He trained his gaze on the glass-like coffins and the people struggling to escape. Kieran fell to his face knowing this quest was like no other.

         Tears flowed from him, each tear becoming a crystalline brick to build his coffin. Screaming as the moisture fell, he quickly wiped it away. Stepping from the bricks, Kieran ran along the river’s shore, attempting to control his building horror. If he could keep from crying he might find true escape. His terrified screams echoed through the darkened cave, joining the anguished chorus of those inside their coffins.

         “Forgive me!”

The End

Word count 1,000