The Lakes Where The Souls Dwell (Fiction With A Touch Of Science)

Image credits: commons.wikimedia.org - Author: Neil, WWW.NEILSRTW.BLOGSPOT.COM - License: CC BY 2.0

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You know how much I love reading with music...

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Once upon a time there was a tribe living well hidden in a forest. The people of the forest were hunters and collectors. They relied on the land to get food, material for their tools and medicine. They were all hard-working and very, very obedient.

To whom?

But of course to the spirits of the forest.

The spirits were powerful and they would command nature at their will. Imagine a spirit getting mad at a tribesman because they killed their favored antelope, then a fierce bolt of lightning would tear the skies and burn the profane man to the ground. And as their ashes would fill up the air their blasphemy would be punished.

So the people were very cautious. 

The spirits were also in charge of the Lakes. The three crater lakes around the big volcano that rose tall above the settlement. That was the place where all the souls of the dead went. When a soul left its body, it would turn to ether and travel quickly towards the volcano where it would find its rightful place. 

Three Lakes, three kinds of people. The Good ones, the Evil and the Young. When a man died, the spirits would determine their destiny according to the man's life. If you had never wronged anyone or even done so but regreted it, you would be put in the Blue Lake. The Brown Lake was for the dirty souls, the men who had no compassion and love in their hearts. And the third one, the one standing alone farther up near the crater was destined for the innocent, the young souls that never made it to maturity. The unlucky who would never feel the warmth of a kiss, the pounding of a heart in love, the trembling of a body in ecstasy. All the children, all the juveniles, all those whose life journey was cut abruptly. 

It is said that hundreds of years ago this Lake had flooded. A terrible plague had killed dozens of children. Every house was mourning. Every mother had lost at least one child. Every father had wept for losing a descendant. The souls were just too many that the basin could not hold them and the water started getting out. As it dripped down the volcano it approached the other two Lakes, went past them and reached the foot of the mountain. It mixed with the tears of the mothers and watered the ground. 

Then the ashes from the volcano filled up the skies. A thick plume covered the air and the sun hid behind it. Everyone breathing it in fell asleep instantly. And in their sleep they met with the all the kids that had passed away. Children, siblings, cousins, friends, everyone was there. The spirits felt sorry for those people's loss and offered them one last present, they let them say goodbye. 

When the people woke up, the village had changed. Weeds were everywhere. Spiderwebs had covered all the huts and some of the people too. How long had they been out? It didn't matter they were spared moments with their loved ones, they could afford losing moments of routine. And after that, they went on with their lives, but never forgot those who left.

That was the story Jun remembered from his grandfather. And now that his grandfather was gone Jun felt so sad. He missed him. He missed the stories. He missed him patting Jun on the head every time his father would tell him off. He missed him teaching him how to make spears and arrows for hunting and telling him how good he was at it, even though he wasn't. Jun could now make beautiful arrows, deadly for any unlucky animal that would meet them, but a true work of art. That's why the whole village respected him and talked highly of his skills.

So Jun made a desicion, he would climb up to the Lakes just one last time to show his grandfather how he had mastered his art. He would bring his best blades with him as a thank you for all the lessons he wholeheartedly offered his grandson.

Jun set off at dawn. He had wrapped all his gifts in a piece of thick, blue cloth. Blue was his grandfather's favorite color. He started walking the path to the Lakes, a path no man would dare cross for fear of disturbing the peace of the dead. 

After having walked for at least three hours, he made it to the first Lakes. His grandfather had to be in one of them, Jun believed he was in the Blue one, such a good man he was. Jun looked around and marvelled at the color of the Lake as the bright sun casted its light upon the calm surface of the waters. He stepped closer, kneeled in respect and took his package off his back to place it on the rim of the Lake.

There he wept:

- You see how good I am now? You see how good you made me? You see how everyone down there respects and praises me?

His tears fell on the sharp blades. One drop was split in two and slipped in the Lake and there he saw him. He saw his grandfather's face reflecting on the surface, but it was not coming from the inside. He turned to his right and he could see him kneeling next to him. The pat on his head and a wide smile of pride. A hug, arms around his shoulders. The smell, the scent of wood and metal he distinctively remembered. And then nothing but rocks and a big blue Lake in front of him.

Jun cried. He curled up on the ground with his back against the rocks of the rim and slept there for a while. And in his dreams he was a child again, in his grandfather's workshop learning how to sharpen blades...

Image credits: commons.wikimedia.org - Author: Rosino - License: CC BY 2.0

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Nature is the best inspiration!

The story you just read has been inspired by the Kelimutu Crater Lakes, the lakes that change color according to the mood of the spirits... 

Come on, I'll show you!

The lakes are located in the Kelimutu National Park (Flores Island, Indonesia). Kelimutu is a volcano. Three lakes are found on the volcanic mountain, the two being like "siamese twins" (separated by a rocky wall) and the third one being a bit farther. The magic of these lakes lies on their ability to change colors. Shades range from blue, turquoise, green, red, brown or even black.

The locals did believe that those Lakes became the home of the souls after people died. The westernmost one, Tiwu Ata Bupu, was the Lake of Old People and is usually blue. The "siamese" lakes are Tiwu Ko'o Fai Nuwa Muri or the Lake of Young Men and Maidens and is usually green; the other one is Tiwu Ata Polo, the Bewitched or Enchanted Lake, that is usually red in color.

Why does this miracle happen?

As wikipedia suggests, it's because of the "adjustments in the oxidation-reduction status of the fluid of each lake, and also considering the abundance of different major elements, such as iron and manganese". In plain english, volcanic gases get absorbed through the lake waters as they try to make it out of the underground. In combination with rainwater that falls in the lakes, they can change the oxidation-reduction levels regularly. The color of each lake is also different probably because of the different mineral concentration levels, as these elements react with the escaping volcanic gases they change the color of the waters. Although the first explanation is more accurate.

Image from the public domain, source: commons.wikimedia.org

References

wikipedia.org
indonesia.travel
mybestplace.com

Thank you so much for your time!

Until my next post,
Steem on and keep smiling, people!