Fairy tales for young and old ~ English version

Ineo's Heart - Oasis Keeper

(storytober - Day 22 - Desert)
(Sequel/prequel of "Ineo's Heart" and "Ineo's Heart - Awakening")

 Long ago, when gods still walked among mortals, the desert was a realm of merciless heat and endless sands. The sun hung heavy in the sky, and the wind carried the whispers of forgotten voices. Among these barren stretches, a young man named Mircha wandered. His feet dragged through the hot sands, his lips cracked and his throat parched, but he pressed on, driven by the fading hope that somewhere in the desolate desert lay salvation. His village, once lush and prosperous, had fallen victim to a merciless drought. The wells had run dry, the crops withered, and the people despaired. Determined to find a way to save his home, Mircha ventured into the desert, though it offered no mercy and no clear path.

Days passed, and the sun's fiery gaze beat down upon him without relent. Mircha stumbled, his vision blurring, his strength fading. He fell to his knees in the hot sand, knowing his end had come. As he lay there, his breath shallow and his heart heavy, he cried out one final time, "If there is any god who hears me, I beg you—grant my people water, and I shall serve you faithfully."

It was then, at the edge of his strength, that the air changed. The heat seemed to soften, and before him, the sands parted like curtains drawn by an unseen hand. Where there had been only endless desolation, now stood a verdant oasis. Tall palms stretched toward the sky, their leaves unfurling like blessings. Crystal-clear water bubbled up from the ground, forming a shimmering pool surrounded by lush grass and flowering shrubs. Flowers in colors no eye had ever beheld bloomed among the rocks, and the scent of sweet blossoms filled the air.

An oasis—pure and alive—had emerged as if conjured by a miracle.

As Mircha crawled towards the water's edge, a voice, sweet and resonant, filled the air. "Stay your hand, traveler," it said. "This gift is not freely given."

Rising from the waters was a figure with the presence of divinity, his form fluid like the water itself, and his eyes held the sweetest gaze Mircha ever seen. It was Ineo, the god of water, purity and healing, who had heard the young man's despair.

"You have been granted a glimpse of life where only death prevailed," said Ineo, his voice like the soothing rush of a stream, ""But this oasis is not for the taking. It is for the deserving. If this oasis is to be your salvation, you must prove yourself worthy. Show me that you seek to rebuild and restore, not to exploit or hoard. Let your actions honor this gift, and I shall promise that these waters will never run dry."

Mircha, weak though he was, found his voice. "What must I do, O divine one? My people suffer, and I have journeyed far to save them."

Ineo's gaze rested upon him with the weight of the ages. "Return to your village," the god commanded. "Tell them what you have seen, but let no one come here in haste or greed. Bring only those willing to labor for the land, to build a new home with their own hands. Promise that no one shall drink from the spring without first giving thanks. Swear that the oasis shall be tended as a garden, its water shared fairly, and that no one shall take more than their need. Should you fulfill these conditions, the water will never cease to flow, and the oasis will heal all who drink from it."

Mircha's heart swelled with hope and determination. He bowed his head before Ineo and swore, "I shall return with my people, and together we will build, labor, and honor this gift as you have commanded."

With the strength of hope rekindled, Mircha returned to his village, carrying with him a vessel filled with the oasis's life-giving water. At first, there was doubt, for the villagers had grown wary and desperate in their suffering. But Mircha spoke of the god who had granted him this chance and of the conditions set before him. He gave the water to the sick, the elderly, and the children, healing their ailments and breathing new life into the barren soil.

Many scoffed and spoke bitterly, for their hearts were hardened by suffering. But most of them, moved by the promise of life and Mircha's conviction, gathered their tools and supplies, and followed him back to the place where hope lay hidden among the sands.

Upon reaching the oasis, those who had come with Mircha knelt before its waters and whispered words of gratitude, while others set to work building shelters and planting seeds. They worked under the gaze of the god Ineo, who watched from the shade of the palms, unseen but present, as the village took shape once more. Days turned to weeks, and what had begun as a simple encampment grew into a settlement, where the sounds of hammers and laughter mingled with the birdsong and the gentle ripple of the spring.

It was not without struggle, for there were some who grew resentful and wished to draw more than their share. But each time, Mircha stood firm, reminding them of their promise. "This water is not ours," he would say. "It is a gift shared by all, and a trust we must never break."

Months passed, and the village flourished anew. The crops grew lush, the animals thrived, and the people rejoiced. One day, as Mircha walked along the water's edge, he felt a cool touch upon his shoulder. Turning, he saw Ineo standing beside him, his expression calm, a sweet smile on his lips.

"You have fulfilled your vow," said the water god. "Your people have rebuilt, and they have honored their promise. The oasis shall remain, its waters pure and abundant, for as long as your village keeps faith with this covenant. And so I bless it, as I bless you."

Ineo stepped into the pool and with a touch to the surface, the spring glowed with a light as soft as dawn. "Let this be a place where the weary find rest, the sick find healing, and all who drink find renewal. Its waters shall never dry, so long as the hearts of those who dwell here remain true."

With that, the god's form melted into the shimmering waters, and though Mircha knew that Ineo had departed, he felt the god's presence in every ripple and whisper of the spring.

From that day forward, the people remembered the tale of the young man who saved his village not by taking, but by sharing, becoming the Oasis Keeper. And the oasis, blessed and pure, remained a sanctuary amid the sands, its waters flowing ever clear, as a testament to Mircha's promise and Ineo's divine grace.