The water was still and calm. Not even the tiniest of ripples disturbed it's glassy surface. It went on for miles and miles, as far as the eye could see. No one knew where all of the water had come from. Nearly ten years ago, this was only grassland. A vast wilderness that many hoped to settle one day. Now it was a shallow lake. This water came to many places around the country, flooding villages and cities in two inches to twenty feet of it. It never receded. That might not have been that bad... Except for the burning.
Atha stood at the edge of the water. Her feet were bare, and a bit cold, but she didn't mind. She basked in the silent stillness of the water line. No one really came out here. They were too afraid.
Tomorrow, she would have to pretend to be like them.
The Waleshi Wash had claimed many lives over the last ten years. This final crossing of the Pilgrim's Way was the last obstacle on the journey to dry land. To a new life.
Atha had been waiting nearly three months for her turn to make this crossing. She had survived by doing odd jobs and chores for others, in exchange for morsels of food. Most of the time she watched the other Pilgrims' young children. She would have been watching them now, but, as luck would have it, all of the families she did this service for had also been selected for the crossing tomorrow. She looked down and rubbed the red ink stain that spread across the back of her right hand. Her ticket across the Waleshi Wash.
One more day.
Atha wondered what was in store for her on the other side. Only the guides knew what awaited the Pilgrims, and they only told those who had a coin or two to spare. Any person who had managed to hold onto their money had already paid the guides to take them across the Waleshi Wash. Only the poorest were left here at the Pilgrim's camp. Like Atha. She was an orphan, and therefore did not have a coin in the world with which to pay anybody. Not for food, clothing, or information about this place that she would be journeying to. So Atha remained ignorant. But in her mind she imagined, and hoped beyond all hope, that it was better than here.
The people she knew in the Pilgrim's camp were mostly kind, and they always gave her fair payment for whatever labor she had performed. But she never felt that she belonged. Especially with her secret.
Atha looked down from the panoramic view of the still water, and watched her bare toes as she wiggled them, inching closer to the edge of the water. How she yearned to close the gap, unafraid and unashamed. She didn't know why the water didn't harm her. She had seen countless times before the affects the burning water had on others. People with an entire leg or arm bound up in the tell-tale bandages and other wrappings used to hide the evidence of contact. The constant winces of pain on their faces. After contact with the burning water, the flesh blisters immediately, then it takes about a week to scab over. But the wounds never heal completely. Great care must be taken ever after to make sure that they do not become infected. Many died just from the initial pain, if enough skin had been exposed. If they did survive initial contact, they would still have to live with that pain for the rest of their lives.
Atha wondered what it was that made her so special, that she alone was immune to the effects of it. She wished she knew. If she did, she could tell everyone else, and maybe they could figure out a way to ease all of the suffering that had come with the burning water. But she had no idea what it was, and knew that if she were discovered she would not be able to explain. So Atha kept it hidden. Kept her urges under control. Barely.
As she watched the water that was now less than an inch away from her longest toes, a miniscule ripple caused the water to move, just tickling the edge of her skin. She sighed quietly from the relief it brought to that tiny part of her body. For others it brought pain. But for her it brought a relaxing, soothing sensation. More ripples, and more of the water came, now covering all of her toes. But why were there ripples? The water had been still as stone just a moment before. Atha looked up, brushing her long brown hair out of her face so she could see up the water line. There was nothing to her right, but to her left she did see something.
It was one of the wagon-boats, the vehicles used to transport the Pilgrims for the crossing. It was tall, nearly twenty feet high, and its giant wheels were but half that. It was made mostly of wood, with multiple layers of animal skins covering the bottom and sides up to two feet above the wheels. The skins had been treated to be waterproof, and ensured safety from the burning water. The wheels had four inch long metal spikes set in rows, for better traction in the water logged ground.
A group of men were maneuvering it into the water, getting ready for departure in the morning. Each of those men wore the leather clothing of a guide, also made to be water proof, which enclosed their feet, legs, and torso up to their armpits. About half of the men were in front of the vehicle, wearing the harnesses which were used to pull it. The others were at the back, pushing with all of their might to make the huge vehicle move.
Many attempts were made to use animals such as horses or oxen to pull the wagon-boats, but they were not immune to the burning water either. It was too difficult to make waterproof coverings for them, and too hazardous to risk the valuable animals when they could be used for meat or work.
So these men pulled the wagon-boats across miles upon miles of burning water. Many had died mapping out the path of shallow water to cross the Waleshi Wash. The senior guides knew the way by heart.But it was still dangerous work. One misplaced step could send any one of them into the fiery liquid. The guides were well respected by all for their bravery and sacrifice. Their moving around in the water was what caused the ripples.
Atha watched them work, enjoying the soothing water that lapped at her feet. Again she wished that she knew the secret of not being harmed by it. Then those men wouldn't have to slave away in their hot leather outfits. They wouldn't have to worry about falling in. So much fear and pain would be gone, if only she knew.
"Hey!" A voice shouted right next to her, nearly making her jump out of her skin, and a second later she was being lifted up and carried away from the edge of the water. "What in the world are you thinking!" Atha looked up into the face of the man who was carrying her. His blue-gray eyes were wide with...something. Fear? Anger? Atha had such difficulty reading other peoples' expressions sometimes.
"I was just-" she tried to explain as he carried her a little ways up the rocky hill. His arms were like thick tree branches, his chest wide and firm. She knew she'd have no chance of excaping even if she tried. Axiety bubbled up in her throat. "I'm fine, really, you don't need to-"
"You are not fine! I saw you, the water was..." His words trailed away as he stopped, staring at her bare feet. Where he had surely expected to see blisters, there was only smooth skin. Now his eyes showed what could only be confusion. "What...?" His arms relaxed slightly, and Atha used the opportunity to slip out of his grasp. She took a couple of steps backwards, putting some distance between herself and her would-be rescuer. She also tried to slow her pounding heart. But her mind was eased as soon as she got a good look at him.
He wore the telltale leather oufit of a guide. It was his job to protect people from the burning water. He'd probably been on his way to help the other guides with the wagon-boat, and saw her standing in the water. Atha silently berated herself for being so careless, allowing someone to see her secret so easily.
"How...?" the man said, still staring at her unharmed feet.
"I didn't touch the water, you see?" Atha lied. "I was just watching the other guides with the wagon-boat. I must not have been paying attention. Thank you." She did not want to discourage him from doing what he did. If it had been anyone else, deliverance from the burning water would have been greatly appreciated. "Thank you," she said again, not knowing what else to do. He was looking at her strangely, his eyes flicking between her face and her feet. Atha fidgeted under his confused expression. "Well," she said, finally figuring out what to say. "I'm sure that you have work to do." With that Atha turned and hurried up the rocky hill. She picked up her worn shoes from where she'd left them as she went.
"Be a bit more careful," he called after her. She turned and raised a hand, signaling that she had heard him. He waved back, a small smile playing across his lips.
Atha turned away again, feeling her cheeks burn. Why did he smile like that? Was he laughing at her? She didn't think so, he seemed nice enough. She trudged up the rocky hill, only stopping once to put on her thin shoes, which were more like slippers, really, and continued on. Keeping her back to the water line, Atha hoped that he wasn't still watching her.
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