#133 The Cascade of Talandri

by Nat Russo

Davin sat behind the Cascade of Talandri. The swirling mist danced its ageless dance, permeating his clothes with vapor and the dank smell of dirt. Night was falling. The elders warned him the pain would be unbearable, but he welcomed the truth of the Cascade. It would show him his beloved Eleni. Seeing her would wash away the grief clouding his mind like the mists clouding the Cascade. The visions would tell him why she was gone...why a hole in his heart had replaced her.

The sun vanished and he gazed into the mist.

Her face appeared as vapor, lifting the oppressive chains of his depression. Her blond hair flowed to her shoulders like the flowing waters of the Cascade. Her midnight-blue eyes glistened like pools reflecting the moon over Talandri.

There was pain in those eyes.

She wore the same dress as the night they met at the Midsummer Festival, white and plain, gathered at the waist by a simple cord. They told him not to approach her but he would do it again.

Blood covered the dagger in her hand.

What is this, Eleni?

A single drop fell from the tip of the dagger...down...down...down...and landed with a splash onto the corpse of a man.

Davin’s corpse.

The memory flooded back and filled his mind like the waters of the Cascade filling the pool.

Eleni. Why?

A second drop fell...down...down...down...onto the corpse of Eleni’s daughter. His daughter. Talandri.

Davin fell to the pool below, vanishing into the mists forever.