Many Waters Cannot Quench Love by Zdenka  

Nellas knows the Sea is rising. The squirrels chitter to each other: go, flee, faster! The deer speak no word, but bound through the glade without stopping. The trees murmur a slow song through their roots of trouble and upheaval, of bitter water which does not quench their thirst. Nellas can sense it as she sits cross-legged on the ground, one hand touching the earth.

Nellas raised no stone, carved no rune to mark this place where the sunlight falls dappled through green leaves. She is the only visitor, and she will never forget. If it were only a body crumbling to dust, only the fallen timbers of the house they shared together, Nellas thinks she could go. But how can she leave the spot where her beloved haunts her?  Nienor, laughing and golden-haired once again, seen in glimpses through the trees, or a voice singing merrily in the distance. 

Nellas loved her Nienor in youth, and no less with the grey hair and wrinkles of mortal age. She feared only that Nienor would leave her, slip away to the mysterious fate of Men. But Nienor’s spirit lingered, and Nellas cannot bear to leave. And the Sea is coming, inexorable.

Leave a Comment