Project: Pyp

IV: To The Cliffs!

Four days, I'm inconsolable. I've not seen Bartholomew in that time, either. The world around me seems much darker, like the gates to paradise were thrown open and an evil force was invited inside. I spend most of my time with the animals. Brother Bart, my cow friend with a bird-shaped splot, is the greatest companion I could hope for. He doesn't open strange evil portals. He just eats and poops. What a wonderful life.

I've noticed something in the valley where I've been spending most of my time. It's a cleft in the cliff. A dried riverbed running down from the mountains. One day, after I stood from gazing out at the Ocean of Clouds to express my upset, I saw it. It lay across the valley from the forest. I was not very eager to do more exploring, but I made a mental note of it. Now it has been a few days, and my curiosity pulls at me. The riverbed only adds another layer of mystery if left unexplored, so I suppose I must explore again. I tell myself it's only to clear the air, rather than to adventure, but I'm not so sure I believe it.

It's windy. As I approach, my clothes are pushed flat against my front, and a piece of paper flies out at my face. I duck out of the way and watch, bewildered, as it flutters through the air, resting finally next to my sheep friends: Huri, Guri, and Puri. I look back at the pass to see if anything else has followed the paper out before approaching the weathered flutterer.

It doesn't seem to move when I get closer, and it doesn't flinch when I pick it up, so it must be as inanimate as it seems. After a moment, I resolve to decipher whatever script has been cast to its surface. I turn it over and-

It's blank.

Curious!

A piece of a puzzle that does not seem to want to be uncovered! Where does this paper come from? There will be no hints given on its form. I must venture into the narrow cliff pass to discover the truth. I must admit, as frightened as I was by the episode in the forest, I am terribly excited to follow this path to its endpoint. Into the pass! This is fun!

I charge boldly into the cliff, wielding my piece of paper as a shield against uncertainty until I come to a split and stop dead in my tracks, nervous at my uncertainty of which path to take. I didn't anticipate having to make choices on my new adventure. Why is this so difficult? I was just so sure of myself, and then... No. No more pity. No more feeling bad for myself. Only action. I resolve to find the source of this paper, even if I have to make choices to do so!

But I must be smart about it. Which way do I go? I stop and close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the smell of the world around me, feeling the air against my skin. A breeze picks up and the paper flutters in my hand. It's coming from the path to the right. I follow it. A soft sound, oh so familiar and comforting, comes from ahead of me, and I quicken my pace. I come out on a stretch of the beach I do not recognize with my eyes, but which feels well-worn in my memory. I don't understand the pervasivness of this feeling. The air is fresh and the breeze is cool. An albatross sits on a rock, lazing about and looking around. Its eyes widen when it sees me, and it stands up, looking down the beach and back at me. I step onto the sand, and the bird hops down, scampers away. Its footprints are erased by the tide.

I approach the water and sit for a moment. The albatross is gone. The wind and waves soothe me. Where the Ocean of Clouds drew out my anger, this Ocean of Water draws out my serenity, pulling me into its calm embrace. The soft tides on the beach rock in my mind. I feel as though, perhaps before I awoke on this beach, I had been a part of the waves, and the barest essence of loss peeks up from the bottom of my heart. Some part of me wishes I could return to the waves.

I sit for a moment longer, and then decide I've lingered long enough. It's time to go back to the cliff pass and follow the other path. I turn, and I see something on the sand near the rock line. It's another statue. Unlike all the others, though, this one seems calm and content, its legs crossed and its eyes closed. It's also very old, worn by time and the ocean spray. Something about its smile makes me want to smile, too. I feel as though I know this one. Where the rest have felt as strangers, this statue feels like a friend. I approach and reach out to touch the statue's head. It's cold, and something inside me shivers.