The sand is cold and rocky, each step bites into my barefeet.
A priest leads us – he is old but his back is straight and his stride true as
he leads the small procession. Four tall, strong men flank me.
My eyes are downcast (humility). I have a white flower clutched in my small
hands (purity). I must walk swiftly to keep pace. Though I try to keep my mind
on God, by the time we ocean’s edge, my feet scream at me.
The priest strides into the rolling waves until they reach his
knees and then turns. I glance up. His face is as hard and weathered as the
ocean’s cliff. His beard grey and long. I see storms in his eyes and look back
down to the dark waves lapping at the sand.
“Joyous are we who have gathered on this day to witness the
purification of one of the Faithful, to welcome her fully into the grace of
God,” he says. There is no joy in his voice.
I keep my eyes lowered but I know that there are many behind me - my
mother, my aunts and uncles, servants.
Is my father there? I cannot remember.
“Though darkness fills the world, the light of God is
eternal. Blessed are we who walk in the holy waters, purifying ourselves of sin
and submitting to God’s path.”
A chill wind rushes through the thin, white linen dress I
wear. I shiver as goosebumps rise on my skin. I clutch the flower tightly as
though it might bring me warmth.
“Come forward, Makkal Hanaya.” I glance up and see he has
stretched out his hand as though offering it to me.
I step barefoot into the dark water towards him. My dress
rises higher with each step and I feel the water tugging at me. There are four
strong men around me but all I see are the storms in the priest’s eyes.
He places a hot hand on my forehead.
“I ask thee Makkal. Do you believe in God the Lord almighty,
Creator of heaven and earth?”
“I do.” I must speak the words loudly so the people on the
shore hear.
“The Scriptures tell us; ‘When thine heart shines with the
Light, thou shalt know no hardship; When thine actions are in Light's name,
thou art immortal.’ Do you accept this immortal life offered to you?”
“I do.” My teeth chatter in my mouth from cold, but I speak
loudly.
“Do you renounce the works of Molok the Deceiver? And all
the darkness of the Heretics? And all the pomp of the Heathen?”
“I do.”
“Let us pray.” He raises his hands to the sky. “Oh God,
bringer of all wisdom, he who made a place for us upon the waters and who has
blessed our Kingdom and protected it from the machination of the unrighteous,
we offer you this child, who willingly goes to your side. We ask that you guide
her throughout the days of her life and set a place for her at your table in
the next.”
He looks to me again.
“Do you wish to be initiated in these sacred waters?”
“I do.”
There are four strong men around me and they lift me up as
one. They move further from the shore and the priest places his hand on my
forehead, pushing me down, immersing me fully in the waters.
Cold. The waters suck the warmth from my bones. I clutch at
the white flower in my hands. The undertow surges around me, back and forth. I
hear the rushing of water. If these men did not hold me, I would be sucked out
to sea.
We wait as my lungs hold tightly to air. The hand on my
forehead is a stone holding me in place under the sacred waters.
I cannot hold my breath for long, yet the seconds stretch. I
hear something. Low and deep. It is a leviathan bellowing, perhaps a mile or
more away. I imagine the inky blackness of its sides pushing through endless
ocean. The pain in my chest becomes too much and I open my mouth, sucking the
cold darkness into my lungs.
I can taste salt on my tongue. A rush of bubbles flow pass
my lips to the surface.
I struggle then. Useless terror. A small fish wriggling on
the line. The priest’s hand tightens on my forehead.
Water fills me.
The strength quickly leaves my body. Something shifts in me
and I am warm. Calm fills my mind, washing away the fear. The song of the
leviathan calls for me. The undertow tugs
and I am unmoored from my body.
I drift in smooth blackness, fingers reaching to touch the
beast’s hot sides. I caress it. Its soul is an immense thing but I feel no
fear. I will ride with it forever.
“—so we give thanks, oh Lord…”
I am vomiting saltwater on the beach. Someone has placed a
heavy blanket over me. There is a tapping on my back. My head spins and I
struggle to stay on hands and knees.
I lift my eyes to the crowd. Mother stands in front, her
dress is black and she has a high, stiff collar of white lace. The wind does
not touch her.
A track of small, bloody footprints reaches from her to me and
into the ocean.
