A shrieking cry of a child ripped the veil of silence enveloping the gloomy village by the seaside. It was a desperate cry. A cry for help. A cry that had seen something of terrifying nature.
"Jac! Jac, where are you?" the little child's father shouted, hoping to see his son who had slipped through his fingers only for a moment.
Little Jac, barely eight, woke that morning with one thought in mind; to convince his father to take him on the fishing trip with the village fishing crew that had plans to head out at dusk. Little Jac managed to convince his father and even made it all the way to the shore but was left to play in the sand while the fishing crew decided whether to venture out into the sea seeing the waves fighting so cruelly with each other. It must have been the adults' gazes slipping away. Jac decided to wander off by himself before finding an unimagined sight at his small feet.
"Papa! PAPA!"
Jac's father heard him again. He ran down the shoreline, stumbling on the silky sand, fighting against the gusty wind. He finally saw him, his precious son, standing at the edge of the shore where the sand met the water, frozen in front of what looked like a large wooden chest that had washed ashore, its mouth wide open.
"What is it, Jac?!" The father shouted, catching up to him, concerned seeing the little boy shaking. "I'm right here."
Jac's father had not realized, but his fishing crew was right behind him. They were a handful of men in number, their fishing gear still in hand, their faces wearing an equally concerned look.
"Grab the boy and head out. We will take care of this," a large, broad-shouldered man appeared right beside Jac's father, giving him assurance with a gentle pat. Jac's father listened, held his son tight, and ran towards the village, burying the boy's head in his shoulder.
The broad-shouldered man, Rhohaz, stood tall, dropping his carefully wrapped fishing net on the sand. He stopped for a moment, seeing what was laying in front of his light grey eyes and heavily furrowed brow. In all his life at the quiet village by the seaside, he had never seen such a sight so confusing, so particularly alarming.
The wooden chest sat there, gracing the soft sand each time the waves pushed on it as Rhohaz observed it at a distance. But it was not the wooden chest that was the problem, it was what it carried.
Rhohaz gulped as he took a step forward. His vision adjusted, and he saw it, clear as day. Two pale bodies laid crammed in the wooden chest, fitting like a puzzle. He felt chills run down his spine.
It wasn't just Rhohaz, the entire crew had caught up to him. He heard gasps ripple through the crew, his crew.
"Are they...alive?" asked one man, hoping their leader had some sort of explanation.
But Rhohaz stayed quiet, unable to form even one thought.
"Rhohaz? Should we check on them?" asked another one of his crewmates, trying to get their usually quick and decisive leader to say something. But Rhohaz was frozen, unable to breathe, much less speak.
"Oh for heaven's sake!" a young woman let out a cry before marching her way past the men and towards the wooden chest. She had the same grey eyes as Rhohaz. She also had the same brown hair as Rhohaz but thicker and longer, having it bounce with her stride.
"No, Roza!" Rhohaz blurted in shock but stopped. The last thing his stubborn sister would do was actually listen to him.
Her march slowed as she approached the wooden chest. Her face dimmed as she saw two drenched and awful-looking women, wrapped in nothing but their heavy wet clothes, crammed in the chest. She gulped, her confidence fading, seeing the two pale bodies lay there, not taking a single visible breath.
"Roza, come back here," Rhohaz asserted, afraid to see his sister so close to the wooden chest.
Roza, to Rhohaz's dismay, took a few more steps towards the chest.
"Roza!" he shouted as he remembered his father's warning. Yet Roza was doing the exact opposite.
She went to the wooden chest head-on, knelt on her knees letting the damp sand hug her feet. She brushed the thick dark hair off of one of the women's faces, revealing a soft face with pale blue lips and icy-cold skin.
"She's only a girl," Roza whispered to herself, seeing a much younger face.
She held her fingertips to the girl's skin, searching for a pulse.
The crew fell silent. And even though Rhohaz disagreed with her actions, he too fell silent with his crew, his hands on his hips, waiting, unable to decide which outcome was better.
Her fingertips could barely find a pulse. She closed her eyes, deepening her concentration, giving herself a few moments at a time. She was about to lose hope when she at last felt it - a pulse. She shouted with joy, "She's alive!"
She quickly moved to the other girl, vigorously searching for her pulse as the crew behind her held their breaths. "So is she, I can't believe it!"
She turned to her brother with a look of joy overcoming dread. But her happiness faded, seeing her brother look concerned.
The crew too waited to hear their leader's sigh of relief, but it never came. They looked to each other in confusion, seeing their leader act quite out of character, hesitating. But Roza instantly knew what was going through Rhohaz's mind.
"They are alive, brother. We must take them to the infirmary...now," she asserted, hoping to pull her brother out of his thoughts.
"We must consult the elders—," he blurted out.
"You are not serious, are you? We don't have time for that. These girls will die if we don't take them in now!" Roza scoffed.
Yet she paused, watching her brother think, trying to give him some time. The crew remained puzzled at Rhohaz's hesitation.
"Which one is it?" Roza asked, watching her brother look to her. "Are we to help them? Or leave them to die?"
Rhohaz narrowed his eyes at Roza. His father's words were heavily weighing on him.
She paused, giving him another moment. However, seeing him take long, she gave up waiting for permission.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
She turned around to grab one of the thick handles of the wooden chest and started pulling it in and lifting the girls out, trying to wrap the little scarf she had on her on at least one of them. Rhohaz was still too slow. The other men waited for Rhohaz to say something, but with time, they too gave in, unable to watch Roza struggle with the girls on the brink of death, and rushed to her help.
Rhohaz watched them, frozen in time, remembering the very words his father told him on his deathbed before letting Rhohaz take charge of the village by the seaside.
"Rhohaz, it is with a heavy heart I leave you Shalom. I and all who built this village built it for our families, to protect our families. We sacrificed enough to have the peace we deserve. Don't you let even a helpless beggar into our home. Do not let anyone walk in and destroy our home. Remember the prophecy...It is now your responsibility to protect Shalom..."
***
Rhohaz paced impatiently outside the infirmary. The sun had set on the horizon, leaving the gloomy evening to turn into an even darker night with a gentle sea breeze blowing through the quiet village.
The memories of what he saw that evening had not left his mind. The drenched bodies, his sister going against his word, and his crew silently helping Roza while he stayed frozen, unable to decide.
The lamp outside flickered with the wind while Rhohaz came up with another more suitable excuse to say to his sister for when he planned to barge through the infirmary door. He was sternly told to stay away from the infirmary by Roza, who he managed to piss off at the very last moment when he gained the strength to say something, and all he did was bombard everyone with instructions on how they should not proceed until he spoke to the elders back at the village.
He sighed, looking at the infirmary door. He wondered if it was too late now that the uninvited guests were already amongst them. That was it. He made up his mind to go pick the lock and enter the infirmary himself. But to his surprise, the door opened, and the head nurse called him in.
"You must behave. I barely convinced your sister to let you in," she whispered, closing the door behind him.
"To think I have any power as the leader of the village is a big mistake, is it not? Everyone just listens to her," he said gently, partially jealous of the unseen authority his sister carried over everyone.
The nurse ignored his statement. She led him through a tiny hallway and to a closed door before warning him once more, "Remember what I said now." To which Rhohaz gave an absentminded nod.
The door opened to a larger room, barely lit with bulky candles at corners, with eight beds covered in clean white sheets, two occupied by the uninvited guests, and a group of three whispering in the middle of it all. Rhohaz gave out a disappointed sigh before stepping in, causing the three to stop whispering and pay attention to their leader.
"Rhohaz, about time, is it not? We were wondering where you were, buddy," Timmie, a chirpy lanky lad with a head full of wispy blonde hair, one of Roza's best friends growing up, tried lightening up the mood even when he fully well knew Roza most definitely locked her brother out of the infirmary. Timmie went ignored as Rhohaz eyed his sister who rolled her eyes at him.
"You can roll your eyes all you want, but these ladies need to leave soon," Rhohaz put his foot down without any further stalling, completely forgetting the Nurse's advice.
"Are you serious? They are barely conscious, and one of them choked on her own breath a moment ago," Roza retorted, pointing to a neatly tucked figure on one of the beds.
"I don't care," Rhohaz refused to look at them.
"Please leave!" Roza shouted, her anger bubbling up.
"Let's calm down, cousins," Garin, a smaller fellow with thin sea-green eyes and a huskier voice, tried getting the attention of the others, to which he did. He always did, for it was rare for him to speak on anything at all.
He turned to Rhohaz and continued, "Maybe Roza is right in this, Rho..."
Rhohaz wasn't expecting his older cousin to make any comments. They were quite close growing up. They shared everything, he was also right beside Rhohaz when Rhohaz's father, the former leader of Shalom, unexpectedly passed away a year prior. But to see Garin in this mess taking his sister's side was a sting to Rhohaz's heart.
"...These are two women that were for some reason trapped in a chest, possibly dumped into the sea, and...and barely found Shalom...," Garin spoke calmly, watching Rhohaz fidget listening to him, "...Maybe it was the sea saving them, leading them to us—"
"Now that's absurd," Rhohaz dismissed him immediately. The last thing he wanted was to talk about the magical mysteries of the sea, which were staple bedtime stories when they were growing up.
"Lighten up, Rho!" Timmie moved to give a good friendly slap to Rhohaz's broad back but completely missed and thrashed his hand into a shelf of glass jars holding something pink in them. The glass shattered on the floor, making them shuffle seeing the mess. The head nurse poked her head in to find Timmie nervously pointing his fingers at Rhohaz, hoping the nurse would simmer down to the leader of Shalom. But she did not.
"All four of you, out of my infirmary!"
Roza threw a wicked glance at Timmie who managed to quickly grab onto Garin and walk in front, leaving the two siblings to reluctantly walk side by side.
"Fine, I will allow it but only for tonight. You better have figured out their names and where they came from by noon tomorrow. And then I will decide what to do with them," Rhohaz asserted.
"What to do with them? Ha! You speak of them like they are animals waiting for their turn to be slaughtered."
"They are strangers who we do not know of what harm they could do to us—"
"They are two young helpless girls! Do they look like they even have the capacity to lift a finger?"
Rhohaz glanced back to see one of them, dirty dark hair with pale blue lips and eyes shut, breathing lightly. He felt a bit of unease creep in, watching her, almost as if he, for a moment, caught her eyes on him. He wanted to walk over there to make sure her eyes were indeed shut, but he digressed. His face soured.
"Not yet. But once they do—"
"Oh shut it, Rhohaz," Roza let out a strong whisper and tugged her brother out of the room and into the hallway, letting the nurse close the door behind them.
"It's not you who has to answer to the elders of the council," Rhohaz retorted, watching Timmie and Garin walk ahead of them, making sure the conversation about to unfold was not eavesdropped on.
"What did the elders even say?" Roza asked, curious but partly expecting resistance from the elders who were quick to push any outsiders out of Shalom.
"They do not know yet."
Roza scoffed, "You haven't even said anything to them? And here you are throwing a tantrum."
"Well, I hoped, with your cooperation, that this problem would have been out of our hands by dawn and therefore not needing any attention from any of the elders of the council."
Roza stared at her brother for a second. Despite being the eldest in the family, Rhohaz was softer compared to Roza, a bit more reserved, and had always had more than enough respect towards his elders to a point where he did not want any of them to be disappointed in him, thinking of him as an incompetent leader. Roza saw through all of it.
"What's the point of being the leader of Shalom if you cannot even bring a problem to the council and discuss a solution with them?" Roza asked back in a whisper.
"You know how they are—"
"It's been a year, Rho. A year since you took over. You cannot have them push you around like this. Would Mother have tolerated this?"
Rhohaz took a deep breath, remembering his mother's delicate eyes and sweet smile. He knew his reply would disappoint Roza, and he said it anyway.
"But Father would have expected me to listen to them."
He watched his sister get visibly red, throw her hands in the air, and walk away. He sighed, knowing Roza was partly right. He had been struggling to gain the trust of the elders of the council who ran Shalom ever since he was appointed as the next leader. They were the ultimate decision-makers of Shalom. They were the reason Shalom was a secluded, lonely, yet safe home for the few families living in the village by the seaside.
Rhohaz walked out of the infirmary with Roza speeding in front of him, trying to catch up to the boys that were far gone. Soon she was out of his sight. He was left alone outside, watching the dark blue sea from the little hill the infirmary was on.
He stayed in silence, listening to the sea waves hitting the sand. It calmed him for a moment. He missed it. The sound of the waves, the long nights of him sitting on the beach, looking to the stars, staring at the unending horizon. It had been a few years since he had done it. He wanted to sink his feet in the sand, be lost in the deep night, but he couldn't. He was now the leader of the small village by the sea. And his shoulders were the heaviest he had ever felt them be.
***