Naeabward took my hand and led me towards the nearest exit. He looked like he was about to say something, but I think he realized that I was in quite a fragile state and thought better of it. I, on the other hand, was behaving horribly, stumbling along behind him, and forcing him to practically drag me along. I also stared at him sullenly, in disbelief that he would do all of this without first consulting me.
That morning he had all but said that he despised me (or at least that was my interpretation of his words), and now he was going to ask me to marry him. Because that was the only reason Mother would ever be allowing him to do this.
We crossed the back lawn slowly, mostly due to my uncooperation. With a none too pleasant look upon my face, I studied Naeabward’s features intently. HIs curly dark hair shifted slightly in an uncommonly late sea breeze, and the moonlight revealed a familiar twinkle in his turquoise eyes that caused me to think, though only for a mere split second, that this was all just a notorious prank that he was pulling on me (for we had gotten in a great deal of trouble pulling pranks together when we were small). But I knew all too well that I was deluding myself. This was it. I really should have seen it coming. Looking back on my life in general, I suddenly realized that my parents had intended Naeabward and I to marry since we had been very small. An arranged marriage, I thought bitterly, pushing back unexpected tears. So much for true love.
I continued to stare at him as we strolled down the tree lined path leading to the cliffside (the very same path I had dashed down in that dream the night before, though the dream was not even a conscious memory at the moment). We reached the top of the rickety stairs leading to the sand and Naeabward briefly turned to look at me. Our eyes met, and I saw them literally cloud with unhappiness - he could see that I did not love him. Or did I? I did not know. What was love? He was the best friend I had ever had. Until that day I had felt completely and utterly safe when I was by his side, and the feeling of safety was quickly returning. For during our silent descent he had seemed to transform back into his usual self. I blinked, breaking our eye contact, mostly to fight back tears. Tears that I didn’t want him to see - I could not bear to hurt him so; he already looked so dreadfully sad. Furthermore, I did not understand why I was crying in the first place.
Still in silence, we began our descent down the rickety steps (for I could not have spoken even if I have been brave enough to; I could barely breathe, so overpowering were my emotions). The steps creaked and rattled loudly. Suddenly, something stirred within me, and I remembered. It must have been the creaking of the steps, the moonlight shining down, and the crash of the waves that brought it back from the turbulent depths of my mind. The golden seashell! How could it have disappeared from my locked bedroom? And where was it from in the first place?
Moments before, I had been painfully aware of my surroundings and situation; the ominous night, Naeabward’s hand grasping mine, the heart wrenching sadness in his features, my utterly confusing emotions...
Now I was hardly present; I was deep in the far reaches of my memory, gazing at the mysterious golden seashell still warm in the palm of my hand.
I blindly stepped off the last step, and my feet sunk into the sand, bringing me back to reality. I reminded myself that no matter how real the seashell and the events of the previous night had seemed, I had already decided that they had been a dream and nothing more. I was determined to stick to this resolution. I glanced at my companion. A wave of concern had washed the sadness off of Naeabward’s face.
“Is something the matter?” he asked. I stared at him blankly for a moment - this question could have been answered in any number of ways, for instance, screaming “You really should have told me that you wanted to marry me before you had to go and arrange the whole thing with my parents! Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that I may not want to marry you?” However, I knew he was inquiring in regard to my my sudden distant look.
Therefore I refrained from such an outburst, though one was not really possible since I was still unable to speak. I slowly shook my head ‘no,’ completely lost in a sea of emotions. The surf of the bay was calm and gentle, a sharp contrast to the tumultuous state of my mind, and I tried to calm the storm by telling myself that if I could just weather it out, everything would, in time, make perfect sense.
Naeabward led me to a large, flat, smooth rock, half buried in the sand, that was somewhat above the tide line. I noticed that we were only a few steps away from the spot in which I had dreamt that I found the golden seashell, and immediately dismissed the thought. It had only been a dream; yet I was left wondering how it could have been so vivid. However, I violently pushed all thoughts of the seashell from my mind - they were really merely my childish escape from thinking about what I knew was coming, and the question I knew I would be required to answer in a matter of minutes.
I carefully sat upon the rock, distractedly arranging my indigo skirt around myself, before slowly looking at Naeabward for the first time since he had last spoken. He sat down beside me and took both of my hands in his, looking earnestly into my eyes. The gentle rhythm of the soft waves meeting the shore had an extremely soothing effect and I had a sudden urge to lay my head upon Naeabward’s shoulder and fall asleep. I quickly abandoned this foolish notion; the fact that the thought had even come into my mind startled me. I took a deep breath and prepared myself as he started to say something.
My ears never heard it, for I noticed a golden object lying in the sand that resembled one of the decorative pillows from my room. No, resemble was not a strong enough word; for the golden object was indeed an exact replica of one of the pillows adorning my bed. I frowned, wishing I could remember if the pillow had been on my bed that morning. I could not comprehend as to why this would be pertinent, but, somehow, I knew it was.
“Ellmene!” Naeabward said, sorrow adding a most distressing sharpness to his voice.
You cannot be distracted at a time like this, Ellmene, I told myself, you must pay attention. Pushing aside the golden pillow as a hallucination due to my current state of exhaustion and near delirium, I answered, “Yes, Naeabward?” my voice still barely audible.
“Ellmene,” he said, his earnest gaze still upon my face,”You have been my dearest friend for nearly the entirety of my life. However, I have realized that I shall nevermore be your friend, Milady.”
Oh no, not this again, I thought, feebly, my mind wandering back to the impossible possibility that he had gone mad whilst at war in Macri. Absorbing my thoughts, I simply nodded, almost automatically, as he continued.
“For, you are dearer to me than a friend, more precious, more kind, more loving. You have stolen my heart and as I cannot live without it, I cannot live without you. I only truly realized this when I was separated from you for so long while I was away in Macri. Your letters were all that kept me alive.”
I blinked, the storm of my emotions inwardly erupting into a tornado of confusion that was wreaking havoc in the eye of a hurricane of joy, sadness, and a myriad of other sentiments. There was a sudden look in his eyes, a look I had seen that morning, and suddenly everything was painfully clear. I should have known that he was going to ask me from the moment that I first saw him, returned from war, that morning.
“Milady, Ellmene,” he finished, “I love you. More than life itself.”
I sat there, unresponsive and speechless, and bit my lip. One look at his face and anyone could see that his love was genuine and pure, and that he spoke only truth. A hint of desperation now crept into his features.
“Say that you love me! Say that you will marry me, that you will never be far from me again!”
As he spoke, my eyes widened, for a beam of golden light flecked with red and silver suddenly shone down upon the sand, illuminating his dear face, and causing the golden pillow, that evidently wasn’t a hallucination after all, to shine brightly.
“No! No! This is not supposed to be happening!” I whispered hoarsely. Naeabward looked stricken.
“You will not marry me...” he said, a shocked and desolate tone in his voice.
“No!” I cried, rather incoherently, “I mean, I don’t know!”
At this point, whatever had been holding the fragile threads of my mental stability together failed at last, and I threw myself into Naeabward’s arms, in a most unprincesslike fashion, my heart beating wildly. I whimpered slightly and cringed away from the beam of light -I had no clue as to why, but unlike the night before, the the light petrified me.
I looked up at Naeabward, panic-stricken, and spoke, though I did not know how I knew of what I spoke of. I only realized what I was saying as I said it, and while I didn’t know what it meant, I knew with a chilling certainty that my words were absolute and indisputable truth. “They’re coming for me.”
The Golden Seashell
