Island of yesterday
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Island of yesterday
They say this man was the last hope for the island. Yet when one thinks upon this subject. The first thought to confound you is, what island? It is good that we have someone to tell this tale. A person who knows what happened. Alas I cannot tell you where this place is. What I am willing to share is how wonderful a man he was. With a tear on my face I think of the time we had together. Me and my long lost love.
We were happy before he was taken from me. We lived here on this island so full of wonder. This green oasis of waterfalls and green grass. The home of northern lights and volcanos. People recently started encroaching on our paradise. We reveled in the riches they brought. Naïve and innocent. We did not know how we were destroying our home.
You look around at landscape from the wildest parts of the imagination. Ivory flakes of snow during winter, ebon sky with dancing green and purple. Then come summer and spring. Green grass and snaking blue rivers, magnificent waterfalls basking under a blue sky. This was our home.
He left me in winter. A trip of pleasure. He traveled up into the highlands to the places where the wind bit deep. Where the king of winter was most merciless. The empty dreary place where mountains and frozen rivers reigned. Home of the hidden people. The ones who lived in rocks and took people to live with them in hidden worlds beyond our own.
This is what she. The creature told me:
The storm raged on as he was separated from his group. Alone and lost deep in the mountains. Around him the snow flew on angry winds. The wailing tempest tormenting him as he struggled for every step. He was a muscular man. His proud crimson beard almost crusted over by clinging icicles. The only thing a person could see of him. His bulk hidden underneath the heavy winter clothes. His gait, once strong and sure, now weak and shaken. Every step was desperation for he knew what happened if he stopped!
He was delirious when the woman appeared before him. Lonesome figure of in the distance. Young and lithe in a flimsy dress that danced in the storm. No. He thought, gazing at the tiny figure far away. I must be seeing things.
Every step he took was a struggle through the deep snow. Yet this creature seemed to float on top. He could have sworn it was a woman. She had the features of an artic fox. A mixture between the two. Was this creature there for him? The harbinger of his death?
His feet would not support his weight any more. Warmth surrounded him in a hazy glow. A smile crept up his lips as he gazed at the opaque figure through heavy lids. She was there for him! His limbs felt heavy and he vaguely remembered sitting there on his knees. The angelic figure closing in. Icy blue eyes stared at him. Majestic flowing tail followed the figure.
She kneeled before him and whispered in his ear the song of her home. The ballad of her people. The promise of safety and the threat of retribution. She bestowed upon him a decision to be made. Be hers or die! Follow and share his life with her or stay there and sleep forever more.
“Choose man” She whispered into frozen ears. “Love me!” She cooed to a doomed man.
Through the comfort of sustained hypothermia, the man found a tangent of our love. The very notion tainted with delirium. He coughed and begged. “Yes my love I will come with you.”
I believe the creature hates me for this. It was me he committed to. In his near death delusion. In this ancient creature of old there is little I recognize of our own behavior. Yet somewhere there is a hint of compassion at least. Perhaps I am mistaken and it is willful cruelty instead. The creature continued:
The man came to. His weak body now warm and growing in strength. His senses were aloof to the reality of his situation. Dizzy glimpses of an icy cave. Images of an ancient world built of frozen water. The chamber from another world. The wind was gone and he could not feel the stinging bite anymore. He felt warm and safe.
Rising from the ground itself, a creature unreal. Ancient and old yet inhabiting the figure of a young woman. Thus he believed. Yet this was no woman. This was a creature of the island, a figure from the past. A Figment of tales and fables.
He felt himself frozen. This time in fear and awe. This was one of the hidden people. A creature yet a woman. Delicate and feminine. It was an artic fox shaped like a human woman. Canine maw and ears. Between her legs a flowing tail, thick and luxurious. She wore nothing but her snow white pelt. This was no woman yet she had breasts to rival all of them. A figure of pure perfection. Shapely legs that seemed to carry her weightless through the air.
This creature would appear to any who saw her as aloof as falling snow. Her figure ethereal in the blue light of frozen walls. She glowed akin to the borealis dancing outside. Twin orbs of blue ancient depths burned in an alien face. Foreign to a human mind. Feminine yet feral face. Lovely but unknown and unseen to human eyes. Only his.
“What are you?” He whispered to the creature.
She danced around him like the drifting embers of a new year’s flame. Naked form shifting through air like smoke. Hands reached out towards him. Fingers like water, flowing against his skin. Then she was gone and on came her voice.
“I am the voices of yesterday.”
The creature appeared behind him. Opaque lips to his ears.
“You owe me a debt of the land. Now I take my due!”
Confusion reigned in his mind. Action took form and he asked.
“What is it you wish?”
She was gone again from his ear, behind his back. Then she emerged like water from the ground between his feet. Liquid forming limbs and figure before him. Flowing matter growing out of nothing and then the creature sat in his lap. As real as any woman he felt before.
“I wish for nothing. I only have. What is to be given has been received. You are now mine, forever!”
She told me how she took the love of my life from me. And what am I to do against such things. This creature that appeared to me when I came here looking for him. Not something I can understand. What is she if not a figment of my imagination? Is she real?
People I ask tell me of the hidden people. Wrathful guardians of an isolated island. Relics of a distant past. Yesterday’s people yearning for today. They take people to reach for the present.
I come here now every year and every year she comes to see me. Tells me of him and their life together. Taunting me with tales of yesterday. Tales of lives past. When she leaves me I can swear I see the ghost of my long lost love. What I want to see. I have no tears for him no more. Mostly, they are for me.
Story by Blodberry
Please leave comments if you liked this story. I would love to hear peoples personal interpretations! Also please rate and follow or what not.