The Body Carved

By Rei Rosenquist

Chalu's coming of age ceremony approaches. Chalu finds it so much easier to stare into a dark cavern pond instead of prepare.

 

"If you go diving in, the end will come rising up to meet you," goes the saying. A proverb.

 

Chalu leans forward, tempted, drawn in.

 

A voice breaks the silence: "Cha cha! There you are!"

 

Will Chalu head the call and return to the people? Or is the plunge into the unknown too tempting to say no to?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rei Rosenquist
• Release date: Nov 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201848033

Rei Rosenquist

Rei Rosenquist first remembers life as seen out the high window of a hotel balcony. Down below is a courtyard, swarms of brightly dressed tourists, the beach. The memory is nothing but a blue-green washed image. Warmth and sunlight. Here, they are three years old, and this is the beginning of a nomadic story-teller’s life. Over the years, they have traveled to many countries, engaged many peoples, picked up new habits, and learned new languages. But, some things never change. For them, these are stories, food service, and traveling. These three passions have bloomed from hobbies, studies, and jobs into a way of life. These days, Rei can be found in between Tokyo, Kailua, and Bellingham, Washington pouring beautiful latte art, baking off a batch of famous savory scones, and cozying up with a laptop to obsessively write mountains of dark speculative fiction. You can find Rei’s stories and blog at reirosenquist.com. You can also reach them via email at [e-mail] or connect via Facebook (Rei Rosenquist), Twitter (rylrosenquist) and Instagram (rylrosenquist).

Book preview

1

Chalu sat on the edge of complete darkness and considered jumping.

The cleft was not high-set, dangling out over open sky, but it marked the edge of the HupuHupu’s territory for a reason. This cleft dropped off into a single hole, a tear in the rock about seven hands and two heads long. Three, four feet wide. The elders said that below had once been a vast network of caves. But after the Great Barrier cracked in half during the Shatter Shaker, water flooded that underworld, and whatever life had been there was never seen again.

If you go diving in, the end will come rising up to meet you, goes the saying. A proverb of their kind.

Young Chalu didn't believe in that proverb. Staring down at the water, watching it surge and suck, ripple and unfurl – what Chalu saw was no ending, but a beginning. The darkness below was an opening -- a vortex to another world. Not of the living, but the dead. A place a body could disappear.

Chalu edged forward, pulled by temptation. They dangled their legs over the clef's edge and touched the edge of the dark water for the first time. The water lapped at their small but lean ankles, warm and bath-like. Bubbling up, the dark expanse twisted and tugged at Chalu's many anklets made of hand-collected shells. Row after row of tiny dead ocean body rattled against one another with each new ripple of the water. A peaceful sound, these shells and that water. A kind of quiet Chalu deeply longed for.

A kind of welcome Chalu had never known.

A bar of red sunlight struck the cleft and lit the ground up. Chalu looked over their shoulder into the sharp light and sighed, a long slow sound that escaped frowning lips. As if asked to go away, the dark grey clouds overhead parted further and melted away. Ruby red light poured across the land.

Chalu’s shoulders sank. Today was not a storm’s sky. Too bad. A storm would have canceled the ceremony. And if the ceremony didn’t come, neither would the obligations. And neither would the choice.