Tales Of The Wisp ~AYU INDAH

EPILOGUE

I went outside and sat in silence to ponder all these thoughts. I settled into a comfortable chair under the pergola, which was dripping with her gorgeous flowers.

I lifted the warm mug of garlic vine tea that Nai had prepared, first smelling it before putting it on my lips. Surprisingly, it had no garlicky odor, just a hint of its fragrance, which was not offensive to my nostrils at all. So, I took a sip, savoring its flavor.

Despite my initial reluctance, I found myself enjoying the jolt of spice and decided to hold off judgment on its medicinal aftertaste until I had finished the entire cup. To my surprise, I was experiencing a sense of serenity.

Oneironautics. That is the word. I looked it up online. It is the conscious ability to travel within a dream. Yes, a lucid dream-a person who gets to explore dream worlds.

I sighed.

So, I was not bewitched, right? After all, too much of it can be hallucinogenic.

"Garlic is a poor man's hallucinogen." Jun informed me, "And it takes only two tablespoons to get an effect." I smiled. Apparently, he checked it out too.

Across the distance, the summer sun has languished below the horizon, and its blazing sunset has faded, leaving the sky a shade of Tyrian purple. Ahhh, the violet hour-a royal goodnight. As the sun bids farewell to the day, it sank behind the mountains, and darkness crept in to envelop them in a silhouette of darkness.

The air was filled with the humming symphony of nightfall, or kilumkilom, as Nai calls it, which resonated throughout the garden. It's the constant buzzing sound in the background, from bullfrogs croaking in a nearby pond to giant cicadas, crickets chirping, and other insects serenading in the dimming light.

This is typical of warm tropical places and requires some getting used to. They told us this when we first arrived, but now we've grown accustomed to it and no longer notice the hum. It was mostly true. Well, in fact, we have learned to embrace it.

But just for a split moment, the incessant sound made my heart skip a beat; it brought me back to that swampy jungle. If not for the little black rail bird, Tikling's singing that had broken the spell. Its familiar sound reminded me that I was safely home. Its piping ki-ki-doo calls echoed through the early dusk. Sighing with relief, I paused to listen.

The harsh, churring cries of the wide-mouthed nightjar, Tagolilong, followed suit, then the kaskas and tiktik calls of the kingfisher, Haring Ibon, and the whip-poor-will's plaintive response caught on.

There was a brief spell of silence, and the droning sound resumed. However, not to be outdone, the shy common bul-bul nightingale suddenly bellows its powerful, flute-like melodies, interrupting it to a halt once again.

These nocturnal bird calls coming from the underbrush and marsh below our garden are fair warnings to critters, one and all, that they are now ready to feast and mate.

I'm amused as I sipped my tea, fascinated by nature.

Looking back, it is understandable that Jun and I felt some apprehension when we first adjusted to these strange nighttime noises after leaving the city. Individually or in chorus, these nighttime creatures now serve as our summer nights' mascot. I laughed, thinking that this was what it meant to live on a mountain in "quiet solitude." Quiet is never silent.

Hmmm. This garlic tea must be effective! In my relaxed state, I was floating in a sea of inspired thoughts.

Mythology, they say, is the blueprint from long ago. Is there any truth to the lore, myths, or legends? Do you suppose it was merely the imagination of the early man that attempted to explain the riddles and mysteries of things that were beyond their grasp? For although history is the study of the past, with its narratives of 'facts' and how they evolved over time, history written by the winners could be shaded truth.

Myths, I believe, are the shadows of past realities, and they give us a glimpse of the truth that casts the shadows.

To recompense, Nai Ceri's account of Ayu Indah's tale was one of peace and reconciliation. I meant to ask her if she had a daughter. but I decided not to. It is not my place to delve.

I agree. Some secrets are best left a mystery. Not everything is meant to be understood.

From inside the house, I could hear boisterous, raucous laughter. I grinned. Jun and Sky, I figured, were playing a challenging and exciting game online.

Their hearty mirth reminded me of a quote by Robert Fulghum: "Imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. Dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And love is stronger than death."

Ayu Indah's powerful dreams have come true, beyond her lifetime! Her love conquered death and fulfilled all her aspirations!
She was finally free and traveled the world.

"Where is my white-haired wench?" I heard my husband make a loud demand from inside the house.

"Who?" Sky giggled, "Mama? Her hair is not white, Papa!" protesting in my defense.

I grinned. The wonder of love... I should celebrate every white hair that appears as a cherished proof of the boundless love I am blessed with.

"I am here, in the pergola!" Coming!" I called back.

Eventually, we all end up as stories. Nothing more than a tale easily forgotten. Unless we are legendary and have lived a heroic life, or as a beloved myth often called to mind, then, and only then, may we transcend the boundaries of time and live again.

My tea is done.

I suddenly shivered from the cool breeze as the evening mist rose like a curtain of wispy clouds, obscuring the twilight sky.

Through the shrubs and bamboo trees, the soft wind blowing, cast shadows of dancing figures all around me. Rustling the vines nearby, it made light, gentle scraping noises against the post that, for a moment, sounded like a giggly laugh.

I paused to listen. This time, I recognized the voice!

It was Ayu Indah, laughing in the wind.

The end.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. If you enjoyed this tale, I would very much appreciate a vote and a comment to share your thoughts. Your friendship and remarks mean a lot to me, and they will have a significant impact on the final draft.