Epilogue - The Flow of Water

The bleating of the goats mingled with the loud roar of the sea, which was growing ever louder and more threatening.

A stiff east wind drove dark clouds across the sky, from which thunder rumbled at regular intervals.

“Páme, páme! Come now, stir yourselves at last! The storm will break soon!”

But the animals did not respond.

With a sigh, the young shepherd sat down on a nearby stone and, at a loss, removed his cap.

“There has been no rain for ages untold, and now, of all times, a storm draws near while the animals are so stubborn?”

His gaze drifted from the dark clouds above down to his flock, and finally settled on the woman of stone around whom the animals had gathered.

“What draws them to this strange statue… and where did it even come from?”

He studied it closely.

How it knelt there in the sand, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Its arms rested atop one another, as though cradling something that was no longer there.

Fine cracks ran through the stone, giving the impression that the statue, with the broad, contented smile etched into its face, might sooner or later crumble away entirely.

“There is something about it that unsettles me…,” the shepherd murmured, not noticing someone approaching from the jagged hills above.

“Ho, Georgios!”

Startled, he turned.

“Nikolaos? What brings you here?”

“Have you… Have you heard?” Nikolaos cried, breathless as he hurried down toward him. “At the leper colony, a miracle has come to pass! The lepers, they are… they… all of them… are...”

His words were lost in the wind as he noticed the statue, surrounded by dozens of goats.

“What… what is that?” he interrupted himself, pointing at the stone woman.

Georgios merely sighed.

“Would that I knew… Perhaps it was cast ashore by the sea?”

With folded arms, he turned back to his flock.

“The foolish beasts seem strangely drawn to it…”

Nikolaos stepped closer and examined it with curiosity.

“It seems of some worth. Let us take it with us! Perchance we may sell it to a passing merchant…”

“A sound idea…,” Georgios agreed, gesturing toward the stone figure. “Yet first we must find a cart. I have already tried to move it, but it is far too heavy…”

“My uncle Alexios has a cart! He does not use it at present, we may borrow it!” Nikolaos called eagerly, already turning toward the path from which he had come.

Georgios followed close behind.

“Then we best make haste before the waves carry it off once more. The storm will soon be here...” 

He scratched at his neck beneath his hood, catching up to him with a curious look.

“But tell me, what was it you said before... about the leper colony?”

“Ah, yes! I had near forgotten! If the rumors be true, then...”

Wind and thunder swallowed his words before they vanished behind the rocks.

Only the bleating of the goats remained on the shore below, still clustered tightly around the statue.

A flash of lightning.

Bright and close, followed by a deafening crack.

Then the first drops fell.

As if the thunder had broken a dam in the clouds, the rain poured down upon the earth moments later.

Relentlessly, it fell upon the coarse sand, the crashing waves, and the jagged rocks.

Upon the shape of stone.

The water spread across the statue like a thin film, trickling from chin and body, running through cracks and fissures, and seeping into every open crevice.

Still the goats bleated restlessly in the rising storm.

Then, suddenly, they fell silent.

A crack, faint, but unmistakable.

Then another, and another. Like ice splitting under the heat of the sun.

Grains of stone fell to the ground.

Another flash of lightning lit up the dark sky.

Goats’ ears twitched, tense, almost expectant.

And then, between the rain and the roar of the sea, a single, faint trickling sound could be heard.

A crumbling.

A breaking.

…

Glug.