The Conundrum by the Gypsy Port

One night she was barely surviving a moment of confused intimacy. This is the tale that happened after her prayer, as she found a port whose air was gruesome and its sky never less than rainy. In this seaport lived a strangely harmonic constellation of sea-gypsies and their colonists together, even when those foreigners had been trading silvers and coppers for their slavery. The reason to this calmness was as following: the gypsies had been inheriting an ancient riddle from the deep sea that had been growing through storytelling and endured many generations. That it existed only as an oral history, no empirical research could ever be done and there was never any written detail to explain the physicality of this great legacy. This had caused many disputes among themselves throughout the history but the diverse opinions, shared or not shared, would always terminate in one single conclusion. Whichever form the great legacy should have, it would undoubtedly grant them salvation against poverty and misery. A sad man made melancholic by his worn out life cried at the dock, calling the future of his people foolish and dark. If only the mystery of the deep sea would only end this evening, wept he, clouds would stop gather above them and let people be healed deeply. A cynical old woman, who lost her husband to the night wind, shushed him and said it was only naive  to feign indifference towards nature's well-covered, yet ill autocracy. She believed, like the majority of the port people did, that the legacy would worth a grail brimful of golds. The foreigners of old heard about this too and the lure of such exotic splendour was too much to ignore when they knew the gypsies themselves had been struggling enough to solve it alone. So they feigned help while at once exploiting them off their land, and then the legacy itself eventually. The gypsies were themselves no less opportunistic regarding the political deal, their idea was to take advantage of the help even if sacrifice would be necessary, then outwit them at the right time. The woman realised these people were almost like her own refraction, perhaps she was a part of that town herself, perhaps their deep sea was also hers since she was trying to decipher a mystery like they all were. She might be not looking for gold but a kind of soothsaying to her own enigma. So if their sea was hers too, they might be essentially after the same thing. 

A group of travellers arrived in town, they were three lads who seemed to be those in love with the Beloved. Each of them started the journey by himself until devotion brought them into an accidental companionship. Though they were not especially friendly to one another they nonetheless shared a mutual concern. In the love they held they believed the legacy would neither be of gold nor solely for the port people. It should be, according to their tended cosmo-hermetic language, a wisdom vital to the universal secret, a salvation for the great earth indeed. Thus before anyone could wrong it they had to get themselves involved. I was rather uncertain whether they were thinking of the Beloved or the uterine membrane beyond their celestial reality in this case, but surely they did love something so finely. The woman recognized one of them, whom she had often seen in her past dreams and who, perhaps not so much surprisingly, resembled no other than him who slept next to her — his hair, his eyes, his corporal feels upon her. Yet at the same time they weren't at all the same person, she understood it because she called him with another name. It was a lovely nostalgia, she loved that imago no matter what skin it took, even though the feeling was quite new. He had always been everything suspicious to her during the time she was learning him image by image and coming into terms with her notion of him.

Not a single group was unaware of their competitors, now there were four of it in total: the young woman who was dreaming it herself, in the experiment of finding an augury for her confused ego, the unfortunate gypsies hoping for the promised prosperity, the colonists hunting for exotic treasure and the travellers devoted to divine altruism. Even so no one was less clueless than the others, this put their competitiveness at ease.

That one evening was particularly very stormy by the port. Ships on the water quivered and a big quake followed, a revelation then loomed out of it. A gigantic statue made of brass was emerging, it depicted a sea god with three heads, three sets of upper limbs and trunks conjoined into one monstrous body. The middle figure was holding on its chest a small instrument like a harp, sometimes also a flute. The apparition of the statue was majestic but neither the port people nor the occupants were impressed. A riddle after a riddle only humiliated the never ending waiting and devotion they had borne all this far, so they left the charming statue standing unwavered between the sea waves. Feeling betrayed they turned careless of its presence if not at all even oblivious to it. 

The aftermath of the first revelation still did leave keen impatience on the town people. The inhabitants suggested a ritual to be enacted in order to please the unknown godly entity, and its execution no later than soon. All women of the town, the gypsies and the non-natives together, gathered in one big circle by the port. The ritual was ceremonious with symbolic gestures and chants, sometimes a dance with tablecloths too. However nothing made the slightest sense in the practice. The occupants were instantly sinking into the ecstasy of imagined golds while the gypsies took advantage of the moment to steal from them. The performance went on completely insincere. A clamour followed when the gypsies' foul play was found out, tantrum and condemnation were thrown between both groups. "There was no mischief to begin with in our case!", defended the gypsies. "Injustice is always on the palm of the likes of you, splitting us from the welfare of our soil and sea! The opulence you cover yourselves with was our sweats of sacrifice, our rightful merits thus! This is merely the other side of justice, to take back what should belong to our people however much your political play has transfigured every sense of things!" A particular woman turned uncontrollably furious while deploring many things that went amiss in the fortune of her people. In her wild rampancy she also mourned the thievery concerning their land and sea's sacred symbol as told by her ancestors — something about flute. That everyone might as well appear too lunatic to each other during such commotion, no one seemed to mind her words. But the woman who was dreaming the whole thing was alerted, she thought just a moment ago there was a kind of hazy apparition before her echoing the word 'flute'. It stroke her consciousness like a flare of inspiration, she kept hearing the echo in her head that said, “Steal the God’s flute!” 
She went exuberant in the way she could not understand it. Deciphering celestial enigma is almost an effort to disclose God by the means of being in love, but stealing from him would only seem as though one is overcoming His supremacy. That  instant thought sent furious chill all over her skin, as much how she loved and had benefited much from Him, she was only fascinated to requite the occupying shadow beneath her. It was as if she had been the gypsy herself, if she had been not before.

She announced the travellers about her whispered revelation and the man of imago ran towards the sea. Sometimes she could not really find herself apart from him, perhaps he too was the woman herself. What she could understand was the harp-flute of the statue being obtained through his hand. This didn’t escape everyone’s attention who at once dispersed from the ritual stage to go after him. He was immediately surrounded and threatened with peril in case he should win the contest. Just then he did something rather beautiful; he turned himself into a man made mad by the curse of truth, holding the flute and violently shouting ecstasy as though his mind was torn apart. His performance managed to deceive the port people to believe the curse was taking its toll. It turned out to be quite relieving for them, they were finally liberated from the obsession.

The sky didn’t get particularly brighter but later in the night had it for the first time turned pleasant without rain and storm. Its dark blue looked indeed more confident, under it a grandiose ship was set on sail where people and lights were beaming in gold, a small feast for the long night. The flute was safe in the hands of the lad and whether the secret was solved no one seemed to understand either. The ship sailed on until it disappeared by the end of the dream, as if leaving a sweet after-whisper. The unfortunate revelation was however, that the imago with whom the woman was smitten remained transient only of course.