Path of the Sinned [FANTASMICAL 2023]

The Dragon Boats (WattpadAsianFantasy)

June 5, 1836,

I am not a nautical expert. I've never pretended to be. That beast in the Arctic gave us a knocking, yes. But how is God's name did we come to the shore of *China!* I am truly baffled. It was a miracle we found the port of Guangzhou. I don't know what would have happened to us if we hadn't. Even still, none of us know a word of the native tongue, but some of the crew from nearby Portuguese ships have assisted with negotiations.

I've never been to a foreign port before. I found it a freedom not to understand, but only watch. I got a few stares, of course, because I gawked at everything like a schoolboy. The village adjacent to the port was alight with decorations and all the villagers were dressed in bright, festival garb. I asked one of the interpreters if there was a celebration taking place.

He told me today was the final day of the Festival of the Dragon. That there were many contests and activities taking place, but the biggest event of all would be the final dragon boat race tonight. Even as he spoke, I noticed many of the villagers down by the docks, tending to small oddly-shaped but brightly colorful boats. No doubt these were the boats for the race.

Curious, I asked him if the race would be held nearby. Our ship needed supplies and repair so I knew we would not be leaving before the festival concluded. He pointed to the river that flowed inland from the sea, the Pearl River he called it. He said the races would take place when the sun began to set, but he also warned me that it was best to leave the villagers to their rites in peace. 

I felt somewhat embarrassed by his warning. He must have seen how much I was overcome with curiosity. I must confess I had already begun to imagine ways I might hide by the river to watch the race when the sun set. Still, I reluctantly saw the reason behind his concern. We were in dire need of the Chinamen's help. I would be foolish to jeopardize their kind generosity simply because I was too curious for my own. 

So I took to the chaplain's quarters and attempted to meditate. I hadn't had a peaceful moment since the incident in the Arctic. I...I tried to bring her image to mind, tried to remember how she looked in the waters. I formed a prayer of gratitude, interspersing prayers from her tome. Whenever I spoke her prayers, I sensed her near me, overshadowing me.

But her presence was stronger this time, more intimate. Perhaps because of my gratitude. I thought I felt a slender hand on each of my shoulders. My head fell back as her power took hold of me. She laid a darkness over my sight. Her touch tightened the strings of the pouch I still wore around my neck. Then the ghost of her lips brushed my own. 

I wanted to kiss her in return.

Then I heard a shout, a great cry that rose from the river.

I opened my eyes at once, but I was alone. The spell had shattered. Shaking off her presence, I looked out the nearest porthole. A glow shone inland, snaking along the valley. The lights neared the delta, until they rounded the final curve of land. 

I saw the boats, the colorful boats I'd seen earlier. They moved with such precision and grace, they almost seemed alive. I watched, enraptured at such a majestic sight. The old sailor's warning came back to me, but God, I had to see the boats up close. 

Hurrying out, I returned to the dock and rushed to the farthest end of it. The view wasn't much better, but it was closer and that was enough. The boats had crossed the delta and were beginning to turn about. 

It was then I saw something truly astonishing. The boats, they were not boats at all. They were living, breathing dragons. What's more, they did not look like any dragon I'd ever seen in literature. These dragons had long, serpentine bodies, four short legs, and no wings. At all. Not even for decoration. 

 I stayed on the dock, in that little nook, watching the quite literal "dragon boats" race one another all night long. For a while, I saw various people riding on them, presumably the villagers. But in time the dragons alone danced and played in the dark waters. 


June 6, 1836,

When I woke this morning, the chaplain had found me and was fussing that I'd worried him. He didn't mention having seen the dragons and I knew better than to ask. In the hours that followed, not one of the crew remarked on the fiery dragons I had seen. Not even the broomstick cabin boy posted on lookout last night. 

So I write my account here. Because I will not speak it aloud. I feel I have been granted a great gift and I have no cause to brag. I witnessed a sacred event. That is enough.

I recall Lilith's heightened presence yesterday and I cannot help but wonder. Was it through Lilith that I could see those sacred dragons? Did she want me to witness how the world of the spirit and the flesh can mingle if only the scales would fall from human eyes?

Surely the scales have fallen from the villagers' eyes. I'll never forget the chorus of joy that mingled with the splash of waves and the roar of dragons. If only I could see as they do.

Perhaps I could worship her as she deserves. As I would for all eternity. 

I must go now. The chaplain requires me to serve his mass. And I hear we will be ready to leave by nightfall. 

Stay with me, Lilith.