Just a little bit of fun I've been having in my Creative Writing course- thought I'd share this story with you. A little mystical and exaggerated, but writing it was a good time.


The Shallow End

The sparkling water of the Rhuidean swirled with glee as each droplet raced to the tune of the never- tiring current. The mist of the morning clung to each bright leaf that sprang from the shrubs lining the river bank, where dew gathered, slipped, and slid as one to the joyful clamor of the stream below. The very air itself held the music of the water, and the birds, gently woken by the enchanting melody, eagerly chirped along. The tune emanating from the Rhuidean forced the world to wake. Willing or not, the creatures were compelled to respond, unable to ignore the charms of the enchanted stream. Even the stones edged closer, to catch a glimpse of distant relatives sunk low beneath the surface, though careful not to get too close. For every stick and stone, fish and bird, even the wisps of wind knew of the spell cast by the Rhuidean-and the treachery therein.

A young man emerged, and the sweet song being spun by the river changed tune. The beat quickened, matching the hurried pace of his pulsing heart. His handsome face altered into that of smug pride; he had found the river. The legendary Rhuidean. He had declared to his future bride that he would not wed her until she possessed the greatest gift. Thus he had traveled for days in search of the mystic river, and had it not been for the clamor of the birds and his curiosity, he may have missed the small oasis entirely. The chant of the river could not reach his human ears, but the beauty of the songbirds provided a pale reflection of the watery composition.

His task was to take from the river enough water to fill a bowl, and present it to his love. In washing her face with the magical water, her skin would become white as snow, her eyes would sparkle like emeralds, her lips as red as rubies. She would be beautiful, and her beauty would last forever. What better gift to present to a young maiden, his young maiden than the gift of never ending beauty? Suddenly, an unnerving thought crossed his mind as he envisioned his goddess passing through time unmarked by age. He would not be exempt from such ugliness. She would blossom eternally and he would inevitably wither and die! With a cry the young man leaped to the river’s edge, and plunged his head into the water.

The chords of a thousand different voices filled and flooded his ears as the cunning water held him captive. He squeezed his eyes shut and in terror tried to tune out the chant that had united in song against him. The chaotic noise grew louder, more urgent though every creature was silent. The rhythmic beat pounded out three syllables in urgent succession. Still the young man could not withdraw his head from the Rhuidean’s watery grip. Straining to be free, he was struck by the three syllable word caught in the current. Van-i-ty, van-i-ty, van-i-ty. With sudden clarity, the words came softly-

Forever young thou wish to be-
(solely fish can hear our melody),
Where you now tread is shallow ground,
and cursed be you, for you have found,
a lovely maiden’s gentle wit
does not suffice your appetite.

Vanity of vanity
Your lot is cast into the sea

In this shallow pool you shall remain
Until the new moon shines again,
But be forewarned; your foolish thought
Has left you nothing, nor has brought
You any nearer your true desire.
But with these words you can retire;
Beneath the surface, beauty lies
Mere looks are feigning alibis.

Convinced he must soon be on the verge of death, held by force, the man struggled in vain to rise up. Instinctively he gasped for one final breath, expecting the vile water to fill and poison his lungs. But something was wrong. He was breathing- under water. Was he dead? In a panic he lurched forward, sliding with ease through the slippery water.
A fin propelled him and gills sustained him. As the horrible realization began to sink in, the words of the river softly came back to him… ‘solely fish can hear our melody…’
Again the river resumed its tune. The creatures stirred from their silence, and echoed their response. The law of the Rhuidean was mysterious- both a blessing and a curse- but let it never be said the river was unjust. For those who come seeking will find what they deserve.