Yara

In the southernmost part of South, where the day shines bright and all sleep night and forests rest silent except morning and late.

In this land South of South, upon a time long past, lived a man young of age and a maiden unknown.

The maiden, local as temptation fruit brew, not ever had been to lands south, north, east, or west of where she lived.

Not local, the young man, born North of South, of different stock and of no distinction but need for work, moving from North to lush lands south to find labor.

Occasion after arrival, as days cooled and people slept more, a feast of great proportion was held at the village. Like prisoners without preference guided by chains, everyone in South Land flocked from thirty, forty or fifty miles or more to feast prepared. Some walked, some rode, some skipped and some more. They all had but two things alike. Common to all dress splendid of red, blue and white, flowers on hair.

First time it was that the man was present at such occasion, footing at boundaries, watching graceful dances and games by young. Noticed he did, girl dressed in scarlet and more.

That evening, young man home, his manners strange to all. No slumber as restless he was, and stride he did, yet again to forest river pool.

So it was his state of affairs until luck favored. This new day, in the vicinity of the maiden’s house, he found her beating her fan, protecting herself against a wild beast.

Alonzo, for such was his name, with fist closed, stretched the animal dead upon soil and then carried he did, the fainted girl. From that time he was welcomed as guest. Not long thereafter, making a promise of eternal love to Julia.

So it came to be, every day, work complete, Alonzo found his loved one waiting beneath stars. This day-end, however, was different. For rare it was that the wind blew from South to North and the maiden a question posed.

“Where did you last night go?” She asked.

“Where I always go”, responded he. “Hot it was, could not sleep, sauntered and bathed in deep pool at forest’s edge. There I went, and have gone for time uncounted.”

He paused and continued, “Unlike other nights, strange melody I heard, sweeter than honey. Left the water’s edge searching and yearning to discover a friend’s mockery, but no one found hidden in joyous affair. Sad I remained, moving from water to land to path to home, to lie next to my love.”
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Listen she did as her face deadly white grew. Her shivered body not from North’s wind cold embrace. Known from ages untold the legend of Yara, a beautiful mystical maiden, the creator of harmony and spells as her only recourse, luring young men never to return and never to be seen again.

“It is Yara” said she, “Enchanting you to the depths of the river, never to return. Will you promise, promise make me? Promise forever, and ever and never to bathe there, not ever”.

“Why my love? Have I not gone there before and now? Harmed I am not but bathed cool clean?”

A sad Julia responded, “Yara will sing and I fear today, tonight and the fall that you may fall under her spell, be engraved in a stone, be taken away for this time to unknown“.

With a brush of his hand to her lips, he challenged once more, standing straight, letting out a tone “Frightened you are. Please tell me why such a destiny you plight?”

“Did you not hear the song, song of songs?” Said Julia, “Spells entice now and ever, and time comes to pass you will be no more. You will die a death, or death will find, when Yara you find”.

And Alonzo burst out, laughter echoing trees, branches, home and village. Its harshness shrank Julia into a shudder. But now faint in manner and tone, Alonzo confessed he saw Yara near the edge of the water.

To the floor Julia wept, eyes salt to cheek. Grave Alonzo became, kneeling down, raised Julia’s head, and to ear whispered. “Do not cry my love as I promise anything you seek and more. I will not return to the water’s edge, nor bathe there no more. “

And then Julia’s lips softened emitting sound in silent surroundings. “Thank you must I, to agree to water bathe not, not later, not ever and not until marriage makes permanent our bond, as it is the sole remedy, for Yara seeks unmarried youth.”

And lighter she grew, not of weight but of soul. She feared the song will attract her beloved as for Yara’s spell holds them captive in rock.

“If promise break thee for reason whatever, promise me anew that with this you shall carry.”

With grief she opened a box, not the top, revealing a freshwater shell.

“When Yara makes her spell, place this shell in your right ear and you shall hear my song. This song will break the spell and make Yara vanish. Melody when heard will make it all well!’

And so these were the last words spoken that night. Days passed night until warm was no more. And as winter blew its North to South gale, relentless it was to maintain its routine.

So every night, the light of the moon invited the river. The trees and the forest and grasses and shrubs all danced to a tune not heard. The young man from North of South did not falter, steadily ignoring alluring temptations, ensuring fate to what mattered most.

But common to these, as time passed, Alonzo’s fascination grew with a Yara he once saw. So it came to be that one night it was, and then two nights, and then three nights or more, his weakened will. With each night, cool air and bright moon, so did grow the song he once heard as did visions of Yara.

One evening when the air was still, a night of cold, moon light revealed waters of old. In a moment of weakness, taken by lust, eleven time at night, plunged he did in warm waters. The vision of golden hair, eyes of blue, skin of silk and melody of worship. Yara was there.

How long he remained in this state he did not know, awaken by a soft, perfect tenor. His eyes fascinated, remained, but not alone. He tried in vain to alter his gaze, but could not change his view.

As moments of brightness lit circles in trees, try as he may contemplate a return to his beloved, his feet were frozen with a will of their own. Promises are made to be tested but not broken, not aware that he was already under her spell.

With arms extended to possess what he could not, towards Yara he pressed.

Placing hands in his pocket, out a closed fist appeared. A moment of will, trying to position the shell given to him by Julia to his ear. Late it was, as his body, now cold as stone, sunk into the river never to return.