The Bride of the Serpent is Silent

The Elder's face placid with the extent of his impartiality towards the matter, he announced sternly, "The girl will be sent to the Far Shore at daybreak." The outcome of their decision made seemingly explicit by the irrefutable proof of the water god's selection etched plainly upon her skin. Jing Li felt each heavy heartbeat in her chest as if it was her last. The comings and goings of the people around her, occurring with odd rapidity in the moments to follow, Jing Li remained frozen to her place against the wall. 

Recognized only their vague forms through the thick lens of her tears. Fu Guo was escorted from the room by the same men with whom he had entered. Fearing that she did not possess the fortitude to bear whatever disappointment or despair she might have found within his gaze; Jing Li regarded the straw mat beneath her feet. Clamping her eyelids together in the fervent hope of preserving the happy memory of their friendship rather than the misery of a lost love, Jing Li did not look at Fu Guo again. Jing Li's tears, rolling from her eyelashes and onto the floor as he parted their company. 

It was then the Elders who were to leave shortly thereafter. The four elderly men's presence no longer required after their decision had been met, they exited the premises in roughly the same order they had arrived. The Elder's now, not bothered enough to consider the young woman whose fate they had just sealed. The men did not cast another glance in Jing Li's direction, but merely grumbled discontentedly amongst themselves as they departed. This natural progression leaving only Jing Li and the Village Head to occupy the room once more, they stood quietly for a long moment.

The middle-aged man, unsure of what to say to the young woman that was to become the next bride of the water god. The man that had made no pleas on Jing Li's behalf in front of the Elders stammered an apology now, "I'm sorry it turned out this way." However, the hollow words of the village leader did not reach Jing Li whose heart still counted out the steps of a steady march towards her death. The man's remorse, unacknowledged by Jing Li as she was taken from the residence; it would continue to linger long after she had departed.

The cover of darkness, drawing its shimmering cloak over the village now. Jing Li caught a glimpse of the cold lights glimmering in the distance as they walked. The familiar map of stars that was spread across the sky, appearing closer to her than before. Jing Li was tempted to extend a hand upward in the hope of caressing its majestic tapestry. However, she was ultimately prevented in doing so by their untimely arrival at the place where she was to be held that night. 

A ramshackle building close to the village's granary. The structure consisted of a thatched roof and wooden planks, hardly considered more than a glorified shed. The village, not often having cause to arrest certain individuals, unable to justify allocating a specific building for this purpose. The storehouse that was usually utilized for excess produce and bags of grain during more prosperous times was to serve as her prison. Found to be empty now as the door swung open, save for a few discarded sacks. Jing Li was deposited amongst the inedible parts of the grains that were left scattered on the dirt floor by the solitary man entrusted with accompanying her. 

The doors closed behind Jing Li alone, they were guarded against any threat that a scrawny woman of average height and fickle health might pose in an effort of escape. No light able to endure in the barren shack, Jing Li stumbled in the dark. Her arms reaching out in search of something to steady herself with, they discovered the wall nearest the door clumsily. Leaning against its rough planks as the last of her energy abandoned her, Jing Li slid onto the floor. Maintained throughout the day's trials by anticipation and stress alone, Jing Li's body grew weary now that her fate had been decided for her.

Sleep never coming to her despite her exhaustion, Jing Li was left only with her thoughts and the mice that inhabited the storehouse as she awaited the sun's slow ascent. Shivering as the short rain shower had brought a chill to the night, Jing Li pulled her knees into her chest. The slight motion stirring the dust and dirt from the floor, it inspired a cough from the confines of her tight chest. This misery echoed by a growl that resonated from deep within Jing Li's vacant stomach. The only consolation that she could offer them was that they would not be required to suffer for very much longer. 

The only warmth provided to Jing Li in her miserable position upon the floor, being that of Shui Long's mark. Jing Li traced the sinuous lines of the serpent on her ankle, whilst engrossed in her own thoughts. The number of her regrets spanning back to the time of her wretched birth, Jing Li lamented the secondary stance she had taken in life most. Enjoying experiences vicariously through Fu Guo's stories or abiding only by her mother's whims. Jing Li had always wanted for more but was either too weak or too scared to change. Whether it had been selflessness or cowardice that dedicated her life up until this point, she could not say. 

However, she knew that to put a name to it would not have changed anything. The outcome, remaining the same whether she had fought back against the ridicule of the villagers or railed against her fate. Jing Li let out a forlorn sigh as she resigned herself to the consequences of the passive stance she had taken in life. Aware that it would take every last drop of the courage she possessed in order to see through the design of her tragic destiny. Jing Li closed her tired eyes towards the bleak room. 

Her mind, too afflicted by the regrets of what had already come to pass over. Jing Li could not rest nor suffer to ponder these thoughts further. Choosing instead to desert these ruminations that would only prolong the agony of her inevitable death. Jing Li emptied her mind as she slouched into a more prominent fetal position against the wall. All of her emotions spent over the last few days, she felt as though there was nothing that remained of her now as the time of her reckoning inched dreadfully closer. Desiring that her soul might abandon her completely during the long night, so that it would be spared the fate of her helpless body. This was disappointingly not the case as the sun's arduous climb was announced by the call of a stray cockerel outside. 

The bright sphere, producing a warm glow over the hills surrounding the village. The sun's warm rays had not yet come to shed light on the tile roofs, when the plank of wood used to bar the door of the storehouse was removed. The board set aside with a loud thud by two men that were to enter shortly after. The persons sent to accompany her were different from the previous day. Their fierce expressions unchanging as they came to seize Jing Li's thin arms. The men pulled the feeble woman from the ground. Emanating only an aggravated cough in protest as they prodded her forward. Jing Li reluctantly fell into their measured strides.

Marched into the square, where she was to be paraded before the curious onlookers of the village prior to being sent off to her watery end. There was already a crowd that had amassed in the early hours to observe the poor soul that was to be the bride of the serpent water god they revered. Placated by her sacrifice, the mob's mood was not as frenzied as before. Their solemn faces illuminated by the dim light of candles in the early dawn, there were only a few hushed whispers that rippled through the throng as she passed.

None of the usual insults or jeers rising from the villagers as Jing Li walked amongst them, she thought it remarkable that the only time in which they had ever shown her pity was to be the day of her death. Seeing the mild irony in how they should rely on the weak and speechless girl they had ridiculed to disperse the curse that had befallen their village. Jing Li did not begrudge them their narrowmindedness or even how they had alienated her and her mother. These past resentments, becoming useless to her now, Jing Li released them. Deciding instead to remember the people of her village in the light in which she saw them currently. 

Dawn arrived to form somber shadows upon the villagers' faces. However, the subdued regards of the gathered hoard were to change instantly into more familiar looks of contempt as a cry broke out from the back of the crowd. Clawing her way through the people in the square, Jing Li's mother wailed loudly, "Please, I'm begging you! She's all that I have left!" Her face streaked with tears as she emerged from the group of onlookers. The woman's disorderly hair and unkempt manner of dress flailed about wildly in her struggle. The wretched appearance of the grief-stricken night she had endured, provoking most to move away from the frantic mother. It was only Fu Guo waded into the crowd behind as he attempted to impede the widow's progress.

Fumbling after the mother, so as to prevent her from causing injury to herself and others. The distressed woman managed to evade Fu Guo long enough to fling her arms around the neck of her daughter. Her mother's frail frame quivering with each sob that parted from her lips, she cried again, "I won't let you take her from me too." Her whimpering muffled by the cloth of her daughter's robe and the mumblings of the excitable crowd. Jing Li stroked the woman's back in an attempt to soothe her. Although, pained to see her mother in such a state of distress, Jing Li knew that she could not afford to shed tears.

Feeling that her sadness would only worsen the woman's condition and prolong her mourning, she fought to restrain her emotions as they were separated. Jing Li's eyes stinging from the tears that were not permitted to fall and heart aching from being parted from her mother in this way. She watched Fu Guo pry the woman from her more considerately than those others who were present would have offered her. The first rays of the sunrise reflected in the desolate eyes of her friend and mother. Jing Li knew that their gaze would haunt her memories until her last dying breath as she was made to turn away from them.

The sun's warm orange rays, painting the sky with golden hues as Jing Li's listless body was forced to trudge the rest of the way through the village and down to the docks. The morning's extravagant colors and warmth eased the burden of the slow march towards her fate for a time. Until the shimmering waters of the Xilian first came into view. Usually content to admire the idyllic quality of this scenery, Jing Li not only felt dread as she spied the little boat tied to one of the dock's pillars.

Advancing along the rickety boards of the pier, until the procession eventually came to a halt by the dinghy. Jing Li's hands were thrashed together with rope, before she was lowered into the vessel. The wooden boat, barely large enough to accommodate one person; it rocked precariously from side to side as Jing Li sat. A noticeable repair made to a minute hole in the dinghy's curved hull. The patch of wood was methodically removed prior to the vessel being relieved of its moorings. Allowing a tear to descend the pale skin of her cheek as she drifted away from the village and its inhabitants.

Jing Li floated peacefully for a time. No wind to shake the tranquil waters of the lake at its center, Jing Li began to tremble as she noticed the boat gradually begin to take on water. Seeping subtly through the hole in its base, her fear mounted with every second that the cold liquid rose around her. Yet, Jing Li knew that there was no hope for her or the wooden vessel as it became more laden with water than her sorrows.

The Xilian, inevitably claiming the ill-fated ship and its sole occupant, Jing Li was pulled down into its depths. Far enough removed within the middle of the lake that any cries of distress or pleas for mercy would have gone unheard by anyone in the village. Jing Li thought this a fitting end for a person whose life had been so distinctly devoid of words as she allowed the water to take her. 

Jing Li's tears dispersed by the lake's waters now. She watched as the sunbeams conducted a mesmerizing dance within the soft currents above her head. This quiet serenity enjoyed, until the last of her breath slowly departed her in bursts of tiny bubbles. Jing Li looked upon the miniscule orbs as they floated back up towards the surface where she knew she could no longer return. Her lungs yearning for the air that had abandoned her, Jing Li writhed in pain. Her face twisted from the torment of her demise; Jing Li eventually fell still as she succumbed to the waters of Xilian Lake.