Excerpt: Portals: The Unfathomable Tale of a Sea Witch

CHAPTER OF THE FIRST: THE RETURN

The lone figure remembered vividly the time she felt her first burn, it was the day she escaped this loathing sea. A sea, or Blue Tears as her people called it, which kept her prisoner for the first half of her nomadic existence. Always in constant motion; always rolling with the swells as they journeyed upon the Tears of their ancestors, searching for a life without persecution. A life of sweet revelry they could call their own.

Her stomach quivered at the memory as her nostrils took in the smell of the retching salty brine. Death and decay lived in that brackish air, she had no doubt. It was one of the horde of reasons she had left countless years ago and why she took a ceremonious oath never to return. Until this fateful day. Sometimes one is pushed to embrace the siren call of El Destino as his song lilts across the distance and plunges into the fathoms; always reaching and always finding you. His grasp is a mocking one. A person starts to believe they have a firm harness on their life until he chuckles melodically within their ears. Taunting. Teasing. This formidable woman despised being teased and El Destino could go to the recesses of Taramul Mortilor for all she cared.

The mere thought of Taramul Mortilor made her burn ignite, simply from the passing vibration in her head. Memories plunge deep, so deep even the physical body reacts as if it had just occured in that tick tock of time. A gust of salt caressed wind rushed up underneath her long hair as she fought back tears off pain. Pain reminiscing over her burn as her delicated fingers feathered across her left arm and met the raised coterized flesh. And pain over the reality of how much she resented being back where she did not wish to be.

The grimy deck beneath her feet ebbed and flowed with the constantly bounding current as she mentally punished herself for succumbing to another will other than her own. She detested not being in control and appearing to have a backbone comprised entirely of slimey jellyfish; their poisonous tentacles spreading throughout her body and contaminating the very essence of her independence, her own precious free will. This rare beauty was as salty as the Blue Tears she was hostile towards, a comparison her fiery pride would never admit.

Gazing out upon the horizon, she witnessed the evening sun set the sky ablaze and fan colors of red, amber and crimson into the vastness of Tears. An ache of longing swelled up from the gravity of her heart and into her slender throat, catching slightly on her tongue.

“Sagrado estrelas! How I do miss my beloved home,” she whispered.

A white feather brushed her cheek as she felt the all too familiar weight land and perch upon her shoulder. “Alas, lady, but we are home. Our place of heart and contentment,” it corrected.

“No,” she replied firmly, her tone resonating conviction. “This was NEVER my home. And its content has been removed from my heart eons ago.” And two pairs of eyes looked out onto the glistening horizon and sighed.