BEYOND THE SEA

I

Before getting into the canoe, she took one last look at the icy lands she came from. Mountains and trees were covered with snowflakes falling from the gray sky. Niara left home of her own will, volunteered for the task, against her parents' wishes, and now hesitated. "I'm a disgrace," she thought to herself, "I can't give up." The warrior blood ran in her people's veins, the elders said a good man should die with a sword in hand, but now there was no one to face. She was defying her family and possibly the will of the gods on this journey. As dangerous as fighting Giants head-on was the place she intended to go. They said that after crossing the sea came the beyond, the realm of the dead governed by Orgul, where the spirits of the unworthy remained until they were judged.

Her mother's words came to mind: "No one has reached so far alive, and those who went and returned did so because they couldn't even see the land of souls."

She turned to the small wooden vessel, and her eyes met the body of her deceased beloved, wrapped in blankets, laid as gently as his great stature allowed. "I have to go," she gripped the hilt of the fishbone sword, her only ally, seeking to calm her nerves and muster the courage to move forward. The breeze hit her uncovered face, making her skin burn and her thin lips tremble, her long black hair fluttered, dancing in a tangle of wavy strands. Not even the various layers of animal leather covering her could prevent her from feeling the cold, it was as if something was trying to push her back home.

"I will go," she opposed, shouting with fervor. The air from her voice came out like a whitish smoke that slid down her cheeks and vanished with the power of the wind.

She pushed the boat through the sand with conviction, until she faced the choppy tide and intense waves. Only the strength of her race allowed such a feat against such turbulent nature. The freezing water rose up her legs and her muscles stiffened with each step. When she felt her knees become submerged, with a leap, she entered the canoe, quickly grabbed the oars, and began to steer herself away from the coast.

Niara rose and fell with the rhythm of each wave crashing against the wood, spraying droplets everywhere. She struggled to keep the boat from capsizing, seeking balance with the sway of her own weight while keeping her beloved and the provisions safe. The moment of effort didn't last long; soon she entered calmer waters, making it possible to remove the excess liquid that had accumulated inside the structure.

It was done. There was no turning back.

At that point, the desire to look back completely vanished; her destiny was to move forward, and that's what she would do. She observed the vastness of the ocean on the horizon, the sun beginning to set at its end, and the seagulls still diving for fish. The young warrior lay down to rest, the deafening cawing of the birds gradually dispersed, until it disappeared completely along with the coastal region of Varnhagen.

All that remained around her was the solitude of the sea.

II

"I like your eyes," he once said to her, admiring the hazel color they displayed. "It seems they see everything about me."

Breathless, Niara smiled, skillfully twirling the sword in her hand. She was still young, having recently undergone the coming-of-age ceremony and made the red tribal tattoos that covered her entire body up to her chin:

"Just 'seems'? I can see everything, indeed. I know what you're thinking, that's why I always beat you."

His large hand slowly slid over her belly, finding a way through the thick layers of coats, until it reached her swollen breasts.

"So tell me... what am I thinking now?"

"That it's not just my eyes you like," she stepped back, raising the blade. "We shouldn't get distracted now; we're still at war with the Urun."