The maiden was but a hatchling when she first traveled to the beach with her family, and while the others made crowns of shells and gleefully splashed one another, she sat on the shore, the sand crunching beneath her coils, entranced by the play of the sun’s light on the surface. It seemed almost to open a path of gemstones the color of crystallized honey into the horizon, a path that promised fiery adventure for the brazen. For her sisters, perhaps.

But that was not a path for her.

That evening, while her family feasted, the maiden slipped out to the sea and looked on as the moon ascended into the sky. His silvery radiance danced down, and where it met the water, the beams cracked into countless silver-white shards.

There. That was it, the path she sought, a trail of subtle moonstone rather than conspicuous topaz. She traced the jeweled path with her gaze as a veil of clouds drew across Lord Chandra’s half-full visage. The path wavered, then vanished, leaving behind only the dark waters.

Not yet, murmured the waves.

The maiden returned home to Bhogavati with her family, the experience buried deep in the most secret parts of her heart, where fairy tales unwound into the stuff of dreams, and dreams transmuted into mystical enchantments. Where hope was born.

Years rolled by, and between bouts of the refined life expected of her at court, the maiden strolled the night-cloaked beach. Like infinitesimal galaxies in the shadowed sand, seashells glowed at her tail, at her toes, but while the path occasionally appeared, it dissolved just as quickly. She glimpsed the moon’s face, curious yet remote, before it retreated behind its veil once more.

Not yet, murmured the waves, again and again until it became a chorus.

At last, when the maiden was in the full bloom of womanhood, the path appeared once more. This time, no clouds marred the sky. Moonstones blended into a silver ribbon, reflecting the plump moon’s refulgence. Around him, his bevy of stellar wives sparkled with silvery flame.

It was so beautiful the maiden sobbed.

Now, said the waves.

She dove into them and swam more swiftly than she ever had toward her love and her home in the heavens.

Yet no matter how far she swam, the path eluded her. Lord Chandra cast her a glance—who was this strange maiden, so ardent and steadfast in her devotion?

The maiden knew she had but this one chance to woo her beloved, and so, though the horizon grew no closer, though fatigue spread like malaise through her body, she swam toward the luminous path. “I am coming!” she cried.

But his interest soured to indifference, for the maiden was no star, and the path dispersed even as she undulated toward it. The heavens, too, began to brighten as she watched, her eyes stinging with both tide and tears.