Synopsis:
A young woman encounters an ancient sect that worships a sensual goddess.
Author's Note:
A story I wrote for a reader. I welcome any feedback you may have! I hope you enjoy it!
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THE TEMPLE IN THE DISTANT BLUE
Section 1.
Whenever I find myself weary of the grind, whenever the cubicles and coffee machines of my office leave me wondering if there is more to life than pencil pushing and customer complaints, and whenever the lungs in my chest ache for the great expanse of the wider world instead of stuffy, corporate air, I grab my phone and text my supervisor that I will be gone for the next few weeks to rejuvenate my spleen and find my identity again lest I wither and die from the crushing dearth of inspiration.
"Again, Astrid?" My coworker Sandy clacked away at the keyboard. "Where are you off to this time? Tijuana? Honolulu?"
"I'm not sure," I said, tossing some coconut hand lotion and sanitizing wipes into my purse. "I'm thinking some yoga retreat in the tropics. You know, way out there in the Pacific where no one can find me!"
"Ain't going by yourself, are you? I keep telling you traveling alone is gonna get you in trouble one of these days."
"Oh, stop. I've done this dozens of times. It's really quite invigorating! Besides, I'm going with a group I found online. It's perfectly safe."
Sandy shrugged.
"If you say so. Daily updates, okay?"
And in the end, I decided to reserve myself two to three weeks for my unplanned excursion. I found myself somewhere off in the distant blue--further west than the Pacific, but not quite as far as the Indian Ocean--on the fringes of civilization where McDonalds, Starbucks, and the like had not yet penetrated. There, the island air was sweet and lovely, and the tantalizing and savory aromas of curries, sweets, and other local faire drifted in the village marketplace amidst the kiss of the exotic yet familiar sun.
Alas, I was a lone visitor in a distant land. I had informed my group leader that I would head out on my own for a while and that I would return to my hotel room by sunset. Be that as it may, sunset came and I had not yet found the yoga retreat I paid through the nose for.
"H-hello?!" I called out to throngs of passersby. "Does anyone know where the Delima Yoga Retreat is? Anyone?"
I was in a very small town whose name I couldn't pronounce. And having little more than a knapsack, a pair of black shorts hugging my hips, and a grey tanktop with tennis shoes, I realized all too late that with my blond hair I stuck out among the natives like a black sheep.
By the looks of things, those natives seemed to be of an East Asian ancestry. Their skin varied in shades of brown and tan. They wore their hair in braids, buns, and dreadlocks, looking as though their fashions had not changed in a century. Women of all ages balanced baskets of water above their heads. I could hear the local language all around me, but their words fell deaf on my American ears.
"D-does anyone here speak English? Anyone?"
Then I felt a tug on my shirt.
"Yes! I speak! I speak!"
Oh, thank God, I thought.
She was a short, elderly woman in a blue dress and a straw hat, carrying a large basket of green cantaloupes. Her wrinkled smile was spread from ear to ear and--feeling confident--I unfolded the print-out from my purse.
"I am looking for a yoga retreat," I said slowly, mimicking yoga exercises. "Yoga! Delima Yoga Retreat! Do you know it?"
"Yoga? You like yoga?" She picked up a kebab of jerky and waved it in my face.
"No, no! No meat!" I spoke.
"Oh, you are vegetarian?"
She handed me a large cantaloupe.
"Yes I am. Err, I mean no! I'm looking for a Yoga retreat! Y-O-G-A!"
"It's okay! We celebrate! You have for free!"
"Wha--!"
I staggered as she plopped the heavy, green orb in my hands and promptly left.
Good grief.
Could this day get any worse?
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it.
Down what would have normally been a fairly usual alley, I glimpsed the outline of a set of stairs ascending the village's mountainside. The steps disappeared into an overgrowth of ivy and scarlet flowers. Moss-laden stone idols, vaguely resembling a feminine form, stood on both sides of the stairway like guardians of a temple. And with a furrowed brow, I decided that having little else to turn to, and having found no one to help me in my hour of need, that proceeding down this strange alley was my best option. And while one might second guess going down such a path--especially a lone woman like myself--I, Astrid, couldn't resist the allure of adventure.
With the melon tucked under my arm, I ambled down the dirt alley, the hustle and bustle of the market behind me quietly fading. The stone steps before me were blanketed in a thick overgrowth, as though no one had come this way in at least a few years. And when I looked upwards and saw the gables of a scarlet roof on the cliffside, I tightened my grip on my belongings, gulped, then cautiously began the trek up the stairs.
"Huff..."
Minutes passed; I was out of breath before I knew it. And when I turned to look behind me, I found the rooftops of the village lay far below as I had climbed several dozen meters.
And when I continued the trek and finally reached the top, what I saw took my breath away.
Carved in intricate stone and marble was a grand temple adorned with statues and tangled with tresses of ivy and thorn. The temple entrance was wide-open; there was not a hinged door in sight. And from within that entrance, I smelled myriad scents, some pleasant and others peculiar. The strange, exotic aroma wafted through the air--almost like a minty perfume with a hint of sweetness.
For a moment, I thought I had stumbled upon some incredible archaeological find.
"Huh--?"
Chanting?
I could hear a procession of voices deep within.
Yoga retreat? I thought to myself. This must be it! Right?
Still holding my melon, I glanced around for any kind of legible signage. And having found none, I decided to quietly venture inside.
Section II.
Firey braziers crackled within.
The temple was much larger on the inside than on the outside. And when I began to take photos of the relief art with my phone, it was only then when I realized my phone no longer had any reception.
Obviously, this was due to the altitude, wasn't it?
From top to bottom, the temple walls were laden with ancient carvings and cuneiform letters. The ceilings were unusually high, and the path within was labyrinthine and maze-like. The torches had been well-oiled, signifying that there were people here and I wasn't simply imagining that the chanting was getting louder.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" My voice reverberated down the dark hall. No response.
Those same idols at the bottom of the stairway had been carved into the walls every few feet, and as I advanced I began to have the distinct impression that they were objects of worship. A goddess perhaps? In the flickering light of the flames, they almost looked alive.
Deeper and deeper the winding halls went, as if the temple itself were carved from the inside of the mountain.
Then, I finally emerged on a balcony in a large, cavernous room. What I saw took my breath away.