Chapter 12 – Asiri, the Blessing of the Sea
The sea was always there.
Even when I couldn't see it, I could feel it, its endless breath, its slow and patient pull. It lived beneath my thoughts, beneath the forest, even beyond the stone. The dense forest ended where the rock rose steeply from the land, and beyond that rock, invisible to ordinary eyes, stood the sea temple.
That is where I lived.
The temple, facing the endless ocean, was carved directly into the massive granite cliffs. From above, it looked like nothing more than broken rocks and creeping vines. From below, it would disappear into the mist and waves. But inside, it was vast deeper than anyone could expect.
Passages led downwards into the darkness. Chambers opened into silence. Some rooms contained nothing but ancient sculptures. Others held relics artifacts left behind by practitioners who had once strived for enlightenment and failed, or disappeared, or passed beyond this world.
Their presence lingered there.
I felt them as I walked barefoot on the cold stone greed, regret, hope, madness. This temple was not merely a place of worship.
It was a gateway.
I was three years old when my days became routine.
In the morning, I sat facing the sea.
In the evening, I bowed again.
Between those moments, I meditated in silence, allowing spirituality to calm my mind and the path of the lotus to stabilize the darkness within me.
I prayed every day.
Not loudly.
Not eagerly.
Simply, truthfully. "Mother Sea," I whispered often, my small voice carried away by the wind and waves. "I am here."
I did not ask for power.
I asked for balance.
Yet, the gray world persisted at the edges of my vision. Colors returned in fragments the blue of the water, the silver of the moonlight but they quickly faded. Without the pull of the water, the darkness continued to press in.
On a particular day, the sea was unusually calm.
The waves did not crash. The wind did not blow. Its surface stretched endlessly, smooth as polished stone. I sat cross-legged on the cool rock floor of the temple, eyes closed, hands resting on my knees.
I breathed.
Slowly.
Deeply.
Then
Something entered me.
Not a sound.
Not a vision.
Words. They were soft and vast, carrying the very depth of the ocean, flowing directly into my consciousness.
Ah my dear child.
My breath caught.
I am moved by your devotion.
By your dedication.
By the love you have shown me.
The sea did not roar.
It did not command.
It spoke softly.
I knew instantly
This was Assyria's voice.
The blessing.
The voice of the Mother Sea.
I instinctively bowed my head, pressing my forehead against the cool stone.
"Mother," I said, my thoughts trembling in my mind, "I didn't know if you would answer me."
I felt a smile spread like a wave across that vast expanse.
I have always heard your voice, Assyria's voice resonated. But the water does not rush.
It waits.
My chest tightened.
"You asked me to speak," I said softly. "So I will speak."
The grey world pressed lightly against my senses, reminding me of its presence.
"I can't see the world properly," I confessed. "Everything turns grey. I only see outlines. I feel trapped between darkness and silence."
I swallowed.
"I don't want to be a spectator," I continued. "I want to live. I want to see color. Softness. Movement. I want to experience life not merely observe it."
The sea was silent for a long moment.
Then
I felt a warmth.
Not heat.
Depth.
The darkness loves you too much, Asiri's voice murmured.
It wants to keep you with it forever.
I trembled.
"Then teach me," I pleaded. "Give me your affinity. Let me hold the water within me, so that the darkness does not swallow everything."
For a moment, the entire ocean seemed to lean in close to me.
The connection is not a gift, Asiri's voice said.
It is a bond.
The pressure increased but not painfully. It was like standing in waves that rose to knee-depth.
If I place my power within you, she continued,
you will forever bear the burden of movement.
You will never again know the stillness you once knew.
You won't understand.
I hesitated.
Silence had saved me.
But stagnation would destroy me.
"I accept," I said firmly. "Even if it hurts. Even if it changes me."
A gentle, mischievous warmth spread through my senses.
Such courage from one so small
Then I felt it
A smile.
Unseen.
Felt.
Good things will happen, the voice said.
Not all at once.
And not easily.
The sea inhaled.
And exhaled.
Return tomorrow, she finished.
Your path has begun.
Like a wave receding from the shore, the presence slowly withdrew.
The words faded.
The sea grew calm again.
I opened my eyes.
For just a moment
The world shimmered.
The blue deepened. The gray softened. The line between shadow and light blurred.
It lasted only a few moments.
But it was real.
With my heart pounding, and the sound of the waves echoing in the temple halls, I sat there.
The voice had answered me.
For the first time I knew
The sea had accepted my prayer.