Rising From the Ashes

Everyone in the village said it was a futile endeavor. They said Seton and his ship, The Sappho, would never return because after so long, the ship had assuredly been lost at sea. But Tessa, deep in her heart, knew differently. She stayed the course, determined in the same thought and purpose as each afternoon she would walk the cliffs of Cornwall to await the return of her beloved sea captain. Nothing and no one could dissuade her differently; he would return for her, of this she was sure.

The Trevose Head Lighthouse in Cornwall stood at the ready, able to provide guidance to any incoming ship out on the seas. Even though it had been well over a year since Tessa had seen the bow of The Sappho draw near, she held steadfast to hope as she waited, wandering and sitting amidst the flower encrusted cliffs high above the lapping ocean’s waves each day.

Seton had been gone for a very long time, presumably sailing upon the endless seas, but Tessa could still recall the features of the face that she so loved. She longed to wrap her hands around his broad shoulders and feel the rasp of whiskers against his handsome jaw as she kissed him with welcoming abandon. When would he return? Others continued to whisper that he and his ship had been lost at sea, had been attacked by pirates, or had perhaps been devastated by a storm, but Tessa refused to relinquish hope. He would return, no matter how long it took, and of this she had no doubt.

This day, Tessa sat amidst the oxeye daisies and English stonecrops. sipping a flask of wine while nibbling on a heel of bread and a bit of cheese as she looked out on the far horizon, anxiously awaiting the appearance of Seton’s ship. The cliffs were lovely during the summer months and if Seton was ever to return home, it would be now as the seas were like glass; calm and steady for any ship’s sailing. Tessa watched the billowy white clouds move across the bright blue skies, and her heart was filled with a renewed hope while the seagulls mewed above as if in agreement.

She and Seton had planned to marry after his last trip to the Indies. He had assured her that he would hang up his sails and play the gentleman, remaining at home and concentrating on raising a family with her as soon as he returned from this trip to Jamaica. After all, he owned the shipping company, and it would make sense for him to run things from the inland and allow others to handle the sailing for the goods. Their whole future loomed unchartered before them.

Tessa had long finished her wedding dress. It was a lovely, yet simple, blue muslin gown with an intricate embroidery of spring flowers all about its length. It was beautiful, especially due to the care her loving hands had taken while making it. It created a stunning backdrop for her russet curls and blue eyes, and she could not wait to wear it with the love of her life standing beside her. As soon as Seton returned from the seas, they would be married.

Not spying a ship sailing upon the distant horizon today, Tessa sighed, packed her things, and slowly headed home. It was growing more difficult each day to cling to the hope that Seton would return. She would do her best, however, to keep busy with daily activities and wear a brave smile. And she would continue to come each day to the cliffs where hope would grow anew within her breast as she longingly glanced out upon the calming waters.

After picking a few of the daisies to place in the antique vase beside her bed, Tessa arrived home just prior to sunset, her hair windswept and a blush upon her rosy complexion. Her mother welcomed her with a kiss upon her cheek.

“Dearest, Tessa. No news today?” she asked hesitantly, knowing full well that there had been no sight of Seton’s ship.

“No, there’s no sight of The Sappho today. But mayhap tomorrow,” Tessa said hopefully.

“Dearest, have you not wondered….” Her mother’s voice trailed off as if afraid of laying substance to a deeply hidden fear and having it manifest into a realized reality.

Tessa turned suddenly and eyed her mother, surprise taking root in her blue eyes. “Seton will return for me. Maybe not today, but he will return. I know it within my heart,” Tessa stated emphatically, thereby silencing her mother from further comment.

The following weeks passed and then turned into a new year, and Tessa’s family became increasingly concerned for her well-being. Her only focus was the return of The Sappho with Seton at the helm; nothing could dissuade her from anything to the contrary as she was convinced of Seton’s impending arrival. She began to hum and sing, in a delusional world of her own making, disregarding much of reality or the heartfelt concern from those who surrounded her. Try as they might to steer her in another direction, her thoughts remained fixed on Seton and his return from the Indies.

Months and months slowly traipsed by and turned into long years. Seton did not return, and despite her determination, Tessa’s mind wrestled with a grasp of the truth. Her sister, Isabelle, continued to care for her due to the frail state of mind that had become Tessa’s reality as both their parents and many other loved ones had passed on. Still, Tessa waited nearly each day upon the hauntingly beautiful cliffs of Cornwall for Seton and a ship. She waited not for just any ship, but for The Sappho upon the far horizon.

Loved ones and friends alike watched in silence as she donned her beautiful, blue wedding gown and endlessly walked the cliffs. In warmer weather, she would wander down to stroll by the lapping waves, the blue of her gown trailing in the water’s edge as she peered steadfastly out across the waters and into the sun’s fading glimmer. She seemed nearly ethereal as she did so, moving with the surge of the water and lingering just enough within it to give the appearance that she was gliding across the smoothness therein. All would whisper amongst themselves that it was such a pitiful and sad thing that Tessa had lost her grasp on reality when Seton had not returned. There had been so much unfulfilled promise of youth and life, but alas, it had seemed to metaphorically drown just as poor Seton and his crew had most likely done so long ago with The Sappho.

Many more years passed in the small fishing community of Cornwall where Tessa lived, and grey had begun to streak the russet curls that fell in loose disarray about her shoulders as she walked the cliffs in search of Seton and The Sappho. She remained with her sister, although life as she knew it was unlike the bustling everyday existence known to others her age. She helped a bit to cook, clean, and care for her sister's grandbabies, but the focus of her heart, mind, and intent was to wait upon the cliffs for her truest love’s return.

It was a cold night in early April, and the snow and ice had only just recently begun to thaw throughout the area. The fire roared in the stone fireplace of the cottage while Tessa sat next to her sister, patiently sewing. Isabelle eventually yawned, rubbed her tired eyes, and sat her embroidery down upon the chair beside her.

“Tessa, love, it’s late, and I must be to bed. Tomorrow comes far too early,” she said, laying a reassuring and loving hand upon her sister’s forearm. “Will you not go to bed with me?”

“Nay, Isabelle, I must finish this piece before I head to bed, but I promise I won’t be far behind,” Tessa smiled as she shook her head, indicating she was not yet ready to relinquish her embroidery and head to bed.

“Yes, dearest, but promise that you won’t tarry long.” Isabelle stooped to lovingly kiss her sister’s head and then headed up the narrow staircase to her bed and her husband.

Tessa continued the sewing for a bit longer, her brows scrunched in concentration until she was sure she had made the flower as beautiful as she desired. Pushing at stray curls falling about her oval face, she rose with the intention of taking the candle and heading to bed. However, as she passed the window, she paused to look out upon the darkness. A lone light flickered in the far distance, and Tessa’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that it glimmered from the distant waters. It could mean only one thing: Seton had returned. Quickly, without pausing to don her shawl or cloak, she flew out the door and toward the coastline, her grey and russet curls swirling all about her face and shoulders as the strong winds swept through them.

As she moved toward the shore, one purpose in mind, Tessa did not feel the cold that enveloped her fragile body though it easily penetrated the thinness of her gown. Worn slippers adorned her feet that did not successfully combat the wetness or the coldness that drenched them with each step she took. The only thought that permeated her being was to move toward the shoreline, because she knew that Seton had at last come home. Reaching the shore, she saw a ship on the far horizon, the moon glinting off its sails. With fascination, she watched as a single light drew nearer. Her heart quickened with anticipation, and she could not quell the excitement and joy that reverberated within her breast.

For nearly an hour, Tessa stood thus upon the shore, the waves hungrily lapping at her feet and threatening to consume her as she waited steadfastly while the faint light drew ever nearer. At last, she could see a small boat with a single passenger approaching. Seton! her mind screamed, joy infusing her being with each movement of the oar and each surge of the ocean as the boat drew nearer to the shore.

Before the small boat reached land, its passenger impatiently jumped from it and ran through the shallow waters, at long last reaching Tessa. With open arms and heart, Tessa fell into Seton’s embrace, and the two lovers kissed in joyful greeting, all the while the ocean’s waves lapping against their ankles. Tessa lovingly looked up into Seton’s green eyes and touched his rugged face. “My love,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “You have come home.”

“Aye, I’ve come home, my dearest, and I’ve come to take you with me. We shall be together, never again shall we be parted. I promised that I would return for you, sweet Tessa, and thus, I have kept that promise.” Seton’s hands caressed her face tenderly as he spoke. “You are my truest love.”

Tessa’s blue eyes filled with tears, her relief and joy encompassing her frail body. She had waited so long for this moment and now Seton was here, and he would never leave her again. Joy and love were hers and would remain so forevermore. With arms closely about each other, the two lovers walked toward the lighthouse, knowing nothing but each another's embrace.

It was early when they found her the next morning, her cold body strewn across the rocks by the lighthouse. There was an eerie peace that filled her countenance as she lay lifeless, but even more strangely, there was the glimmer of a smile curved upon her lips in the pose of death. Many would tell tales for years about sweet, poor Tessa who waited so patiently and so steadfastly for her truest love to return. And many would whisper that they had seen the two lovers, arms about each another as they strolled along the water’s edge in the early morning's light of dawn. It seemed that love had smiled at long last upon sweet Tessa, and she had defied death to find peace, joy, and her truest love. Indeed, eternal love had prevailed, allowing Seton to return home and claim his precious Tessa.

Death knows no obstacle or boundary as love rises from the ashes like a phoenix, soaring into the distant horizon.