In 500... (or less)

Penance for the Pusillanimous

I suppose it is a just punishment for a coward.

We came ashore and started setting things up, building shelters, collecting wood and gathering food.

It seemed like a paradise at first. Palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze. The waves lapped peacefully against the sand.

"They will come," warned Alvarez. "They always come."

The commander paid him no mind. We were well-armed, he replied. They would be no match for us.

And came they did. We could not see them. They hid in the weeds and bushes and began picking off the defenders. 

I saw the commander get hit, or rather heard him scream in agony. That's when I ran away.

The flight from the battle was not one where I looked to see if was being chased or followed. I only wanted to escape the mortal peril I was in. I suppose most of the rest of my countrymen died in the battle. I never bothered trying to go back. I couldn't.

I ran until I came to a cave. It seemed like as good of a place to hide as any. It was dark and cramped, but I continued feeling my way deeper into the cave, in the hopes of finding safety.

I sucked myself in tightly to wedge between the narrow opening in the rocks. I became wedged between them, fighting with my free arm to push myself through. 

The rocks began to crumble and I was free, but at a cost. The way I came in had collapsed.

I heard bubbling water off in the distance, and saw an odd blue light coming from the source of the sound. Only then did I realize how thirsty I was.

My eyes became acclimated to the dim light, I could make out what seemed like a pedestal with water coming out of it. I bent down and took a long, refreshing drink.

If only I had known, I would not have quenched my thirst. I would have died trapped in the cave, or perhaps found out a way out to face my fate with the Calusa, our enemies.

Alas, I drank until I was content, then curled up on the cave floor and fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke with a start and did not know where I was at first. It seemed like the cave had gotten brighter, I could see something written on the wall, but could not decipher the language. I now assume it was a warning.

None of us had believed the myths about it. We weren't looking for anything like this when we landed on the shore. We only wanted possession of the land, not some fairy tale about magic water.

I've lost track of how much time has passed. Perhaps a decade, quite possibly a century or more, sealed inside this cave with no way to escape. I stopped looking for a way out a long time ago.

I, Hernan de Cordoba, last survivor of the expedition of our commander, Juan Ponce de Leon, have been cursed by discovering the Fountain of Youth, whose waters seem to grant everlasting life.