At her feet, Danae created a complicated diagram, loops and swirls, harsh stick lines filled with colored salt and bits of shell. She paused in her work and looked up at the moon that flooded the beach with light. She flicked a match and lit the sage bundle. She traced the sacred pattern with smoke, filling her head with her intention. Forgetfulness. Freedom from pain. Peace. The spell complete, she left the still burning sage in the center of the diagram and stepped back. She sat a few feet away, watching the sea slowly rise. The incoming tide took the spell and her last shred of hope slowly into the ocean. The creeping water finally reached the smoldering sage bundle, and extinguished it. Danae sighed. The sea had her pain now, and all she could do was to wait and pray that Neya, the goddess of the ocean, listened and would grant her what she so desperately needed. ~ * ~ * ~ Danae woke up, tossing, the same nightmare echoing in her ears.
