PRINCESSES DON'T SWIM

That boy’s such a pain. Why does everything have to be on his own time…I’ve been here long enough; I’m getting bored with this scene.

I sat on a tiny row boat and bobbed up and down in the calm, deep waters. I wish Daniel were here, I kept thinking. We would take off in a heartbeat and leave Phelusus in the dust. That’d teach him to make me wait. After all, I’m still a princess, and we don't tolerate being kept waiting in the middle of the sea.

A hundred yards away, small waves crashed on the black basaltic rocks with rhythmic, soothing recurrence and when they retreated, showers of pebbles rolled back, tingling with a soothing waterfall-like sound. Tyre’s towering bastions loomed from above, reaching for the hot midday sun like sleeping giants, promising shade and security for anyone within their walls.

This peaceful scenery should have put me to sleep. Not a chance.

Instead, I bit my nails for over an hour now, while the merciless summer sun beat down on me, not a bit of shade, all alone.

My reddish-blond hair filtered the sunlight such a way that, to anyone watching, it must have seemed on fire. My hair has a strange effect on people. Some laugh, some scream in horror things like, ‘what’s happened to your hair?’ or, ‘are you too poor for a brush?’ I hate my hair; it’s so wild and impossibly twisted. But I’m a princess, and should keep a good image. A princess without a mother and whose father, whom I adored, had just remarried. I sighed.

Thankfully, I quit caring about what people thought a long time ago, last year to be precise. I learned then that are more important things to worry about than appearance. I thought I knew all about love of family and land. In truth, I knew nothing, because I did not trust.

Now, trust. That’s a whole different beast. Trust means belief without proof. Daniel taught me that.

Daniel. Waiting in the scorching sun for my friend Phelusus, reality faded away and, lost in memories, I found a smile perking my lips. The sound of his name still soothed my soul, and brought back visions of his handsome face, and with it, the thought that I would never see him again.

I would never again lock gaze with those impossible green-gray eyes, or feel the kiss of his soft lips, and curl safely in his strong arms.

It wasn't because it didn’t work out between us, since we both knew that we loved each other. Or because he’d moved away, or died. No.

It's because Daniel wasn't born yet.

And will not, for at least three thousand years, take or leave a couple of centuries. Daniel was a gift from the future. I missed him terribly, and not a day went by that I didn't think of him, and wondered about his world, a world of which I had barely caught a glimpse, when I had visited it as a ghost. A world in which I didn't belong.

To soothe the pain, I signed up for an adventure with another friend, a crazy fifteen-year old by the name of Phelusus.

My mind returned to the present and to the burning pain along the waist of my baggy pants. There, a bare strip of back felt like fire.

“Oh, great! I’ve been here so long I’m getting blisters,” I rambled and cocked my head to inspect my ordinarily slim and smooth back.

As usual, the fluff of my hair got in the way. I tried to reach further, but righted myself in a hurry. The boat followed my every movement with uncanny precision, and any change caused serious tilting.

“What's taking so long?” I rubbed a sweaty hand on my back, and it stung as if I had laid salt on it.

“Ouch!” I jerked my hand back and crept to the edge. I leaned overboard for the fiftieth time since I had rowed here, and stared at the deep.

“Phelusus, where are you? Oh, may be…oh, there he is! It must be…it must be…OOOH!”

With a great splash, I toppled over and fell in the water.

I sunk deeper in the dark water. I'm drowning, I thought desperately. My arms and legs floundered around me in a chaotic effort to regain the surface, but the current was too strong. It dragged me down, deeper into the abyss. How could I be so stupid to row here alone, me, the clumsiest swimmer in Anatolia. I’ll never see my father again; I’ll never return home. My lungs burned, aching to take a breath, the breath that would seal my faith. My body fought, trying in vain to cling to life.

Merciful unconsciousness took over.