It was a lovely day at the beach. I was all alone collecting shells on the border where the crystal-clear waves hit the sandy shore and gently caressed my feet. I was lost in the sun and the moon, standing at the edge of a vast shoreline, where the sky met the sea in a seamless blend of blues and grays.
Suddenly, something hard bumped against my shin. I looked down to find an antique wooden box, darkened and softened by years of exposure to the ocean. Kneeling in the damp sand, I pried open the rusty clasp.
Inside, nestled in a bed of faded wet velvet, I saw a delicate letter worn from time and a small pendant with a ring attached.
I unfolded the letter with care, the paper fragile and yellowed with age. The ink had faded, but the words were still legible, written in an elegant hand. As I started to read, the story of the ring, the pendant, and the person who once cherished them started to unfurl. It was a tale of love, loss, and promises made ages ago. I found myself lost in the words of the letter, feeling a connection to the past, as if the sea itself has brought this moment to me for a reason.
My dearest Asteria,
As I write this, the sea is calm, though my heart is anything but. The war rages on, and I fear that every day takes me further away from you. Yet it is the thought of you that keeps me going, your memory that gives me strength in these darkest hours. Like the lighthouse, you're the beacon in this chaos. I never thought the wait would be so long to be back in your arms... I miss getting lost in your eyes, dearest. The brown eyes which carried more tales than this mighty sea.
I bought you a ring. A ring for us, carved with our initials. I carry with me this ring that will one day bind us together, just as I carry your love with me, always. I swear to you, my love, that when this war is over and I return to you, we’ll be wed beneath the watchful eyes of the sun and the moon. We’ll walk together into a future where war is just a distant memory, and our love will be the only thing that matters...
No matter what comes, know that you're my pole star, my reason to return home. I will return home, Asteria....
I love you, my lifeline
Yours loving,
Your Caspian
I stood there on the shore, the waves whispering, as they lapped at my feet, as if sharing secrets of love and loss. The ring felt heavy on my palm, not because of its weight, but because of the promises it carried—the hopes, the dreams, and the love of two souls who once believed in a future together.
How many lives had been lost to the wars of the past? How many lovers had written letters like this, only for their words to be scattered like grains of sand, lost amidst the endless tides? How many promises were swallowed by the depths of the sea, never to be fulfilled?
As I gazed out into the vast ocean, I couldn’t help but wonder—how many Caspians never returned home? How many Asterias waited by the shore, their hearts heavy with longing, their eyes searching the horizon for a sail that never appeared? How many promises were broken, not by choice, but by fate?
And yet, in this small pendant, in this weathered letter, their love had endured—surviving the ravages of time, carried by the sea until it found me. Perhaps, in some way, their promise had not been lost after all.
I clutched the ring tightly, my eyes misty with tears, and whispered a silent prayer for all the lost loves and broken promises that now rested beneath the waves. They may be gone, but they were not forgotten. Not as long as their stories, like this one, continued to wash ashore, carried by the sea’s eternal embrace.
