Yavana and Namar

Once upon a violet moon, under the dark blue skies, laid a virgin who loved to sing to the stars. Her name was Yavana and she would every evening lie beneath the old willow tree on the hill, staring at the sky as it begun to darken, as the stars came out. And she would sometimes whispers words of an ancient language that flew like birds from her lips, fell like waves to the shores. For Yavana was born from the foam of the first ripples of the world, and she was the Lady of the Sea. Red  like ripe cherries were her lips and velvety black was her hair like the feathers of the raven. Her eyes were green like jade and there was no man, human or spirit, who could resist their power. For this virgin held the power of the Seven Sacred Seas and the steel will of the Ancient Times.

That night, as soon as she had laid her dresses on the grass, staring at the ocean from afar, she hears the upcoming thunder of hooves on the ground. Rising her eyes, she fixed them upon a handsome youth, a man like no one she had ever laid eyes upon before. Tall he was, very tall and lanky, with a nose like a hook, his lips almost nonexistent. His eyes were dull, the right one nearly blind! On his face all the travelling her had suffered, all the agony and pain of those who never rest. Oh how she pitied the poor soul, how she smiled in kindness. But he, who had no need for pity but sought love and respect, sat straight and spoke those words:

“Oh fair Lady of the land, pray tell where I can find the Undying Lake of the Sun?”

In awe stood the virgin, for never before has she heard of that strange place, nor did she know if it had ever existed, and so she said. And the man sighed three times; once for the falling night; twice for his distorted form; thrice for the land that was ahead of him to cross.

“Pray tell, then, where we can rest, my horse and I for the night.”

“Lay here, lay there, the land is not my own to hold!” the virgin cried and smiled. “But, young man, tell me your name and why you seek those lands?”

“Namar is my name and sacred is my call, for I can never live In a land for too long.”

Yavana stood in awe once more, secretly pitying the man. Poor is the one, she thought, who can never call a place his home. “But why, oh why can you not?” she asked.

“A curse is always the cause.” And in that moment, under the moon, Yavana loved Namar. She made an oath to revoke his curse, if only he would stay with her!

And days passed, and months passed, and still there they stood; in a little house under the willow tree. In love the two were, Yavana never minding Namar’s distorted face, him always trying to resist his urge to sail away.

But once came the cursed day, Namar made a boat and threw it in the water. He kissed his bride farewell and sailed away from her. Yavana, in despair, wished that they meet one day.  She cried, she whaled, she ripped her hair and clothes, she waited on the hill. But he never returned.

And so the virgin of the Water cried, and cried some more; she rooted in the ground, so deep, so strong; her roots reached to the sea, and she dissolved into foam. And finally, one day, the waves guided her afar, to the Undying Lake of the Sun.

The story ends like this, saying that there she found her beloved Namar, and they were never parted again, for with her love his curse was finally revoked…

  From Melane with Love...