The adventures of Isra and the boat part 1

Isra climbed atop the mysterious vessel and gasped, stunned by the sight before her. This was no ordinary boat. Cushioned benches lined the sides, the floor was carpeted, and regal ornamentations gleamed under the sun.

The floor featured a lavish blend of red and black wood with thin, beautiful carpets in between, and the seating area boasted luxurious, soft cushions. Around the edge of the boat, two long, abstract slithering shapes met at the front, forming an open spearheaded shape.

A thick wooden mast hoisted crimson sails in the middle, currently snapped shut to the mast.

After placing her bag on one of the cushioned seats, she sat beside it, waiting for something to happen. Judging by the luxury of the vessel, she assumed there might be a captain hidden somewhere below deck.

But nothing happened as she sat, tapping the cushions with her fingers in a mix of excitement and anxiety.

"Pathetic girl does not even know how a boat works," the lake whispered again, the water rising and falling in a mocking rhythm. "Unfurl the sail," it taunted.

Isra clenched her fists in anger, trying to ignore the obnoxious lake. But the suggestion made sense; she just didn't want to do it in front of the lake, fearing humiliation.

She stayed still, pretending to inspect the vessel thoroughly, poking here and there until she reached the mast. There, she pulled down a freely hanging rope, and the sails unfurled, majestic and grand. They were made of exquisite color-changing fabric that shifted from deep crimson to lighter shades of red. Isra placed her hand on the mast.

"Push the boat in water," the lake taunted again, successfully getting on Isra's nerves.

Again, the suggestion made sense. She climbed down from behind and placed both hands on the back of the vessel. Since the dream, Isra had grown stronger, stronger than most adults. She felt it in her arms. She gave the boat a hearty push until it finally entered the water, not even creaking once.

"This damn boat is too luxurious," she whispered to herself.

Then something unexpected happened. The vessel stood up, two long legs protruding from its bottom, standing upon the water as if it were perfectly natural for boats to have legs.

Isra stood still for a moment, staring at the chicken-legged canoe in surprise. She looked back at the jungle, then cautiously approached the boat until she was standing right underneath it.

The boat took a few steps forward, not breaking the surface tension of the water. It dunked its backside low, and Isra gulped, carefully climbing atop.

The shapes around the canoe's border twisted into two serpentine arms, and the boat started doing sit-ups like a professional swimmer warming up. Then the arms formed a spearhead shape.

"Wait a minute—" Before Isra could finish her sentence, the boat lunged into the still lake like a professional swimmer, heading toward the mysterious door structure.

It swam fast and reliably, not a drop of water touching Isra. Then, something even more bizarre happened. The right serpentine arm came back while the other kept rowing. With its slender hand, the canoe tapped a few times on the carpeted deck until a hollow sound resounded. It pushed aside the carpet, revealing a shimmering crimson knob. It wrapped its slender fingers around the edge and pulled, opening a small trapdoor on the deck.

Then it comically took out a huge golden chest, brushed dust off it, and opened the top lid. Inside was a tray of roasted chicken, still smoking, its aroma filling the air, with salad and fresh naan. On the right side were perfectly cut apples and grapes.

The boat made a polite gesture, inviting Isra to lunch. It insisted.

Never had she seen something so bizarre, and she had seen her fair share of bizarre things.

Isra cautiously obeyed, tearing a big chunk of chicken, juices dripping, wrapping it in the naan, dunking it thrice in mint sauce, and taking a bite. For a few moments, everything disappeared. Then, like a feral animal, she tore through the chicken. It was perhaps the most delicious meal she had ever tasted.

Logic and rationality were left far behind, replaced by animalistic hunger. But when they caught up, Isra stopped and closed the lid.

"This could be poisoned," she thought to herself. With a comical expression, she slowly lingered back to her cushioned seat. The boat seemed disheartened, making a sad creaking sound.

"It was good," Isra said. "I will eat it later," trying to cover up with excuses and fake laughter, but ended up making things more awkward.

On her right, the lake water bubbled up in laughter.

Then there was pure silence for the rest of her journey. The boat seemed disheartened, using both arms to row at first but then becoming depressed, swimming with only one arm while the other swayed lifelessly.

Isra grinned sheepishly, watching the canoe throw silent tantrums like a child. Finally, after a long thirty minutes of comical ride, the canoe abruptly stopped.

Isra stood up, bracing the strap of her bag awkwardly. "Why did you stop?" she asked, her voice low and careful, not wanting to offend the sensitive boat again.

Nothing. Just pure silence.

Then one of the long arms rose from the water and gestured towards Isra with a pointy finger, then towards the horrible lake.

Isra's chest sunk. "But I don't know how to swim. The land is so far away."

The boat's arms rose in an 'I don't care' gesture, then started a countdown from five. It folded the thumb, paused, then folded each finger one by one, hoping Isra would jump by the time it made a fist.

But she didn't jump. So the canoe gestured again, awkwardly, towards her, then the water, then started the countdown again. Still, she didn't jump.

The canoe shook itself, but Isra latched onto it from inside, not willing to give up.

Then it made a diving posture. Before Isra could brace herself, it dove underwater, almost throwing her off. But Isra, known for her sturdiness and pettiness, had already grabbed the border with all her strength.

Underwater, the whispers grew louder. "Let it go, scum."

"Let it go, filthy scum."

The canoe wiggled and tried its best, but Isra didn't give up. It surfaced back up.

She was still there, her dead black hair fallen upon her shoulder and her grey eyes shimmering with madness. She grinned.

The canoe shuddered.

The journey had slowly transformed into a pure battle of attrition. After failing all its moves, the canoe gave up, sitting still upon the lake. Isra was splattered across its wooden surface like a bug, all color drained from her, only madness remaining in her eyes.

Only a few hundred meters remained until the landmass. Unwillingly and tiredly, the boat moved further with Isra atop. The speed was pathetic now, and from time to time, it splashed the water with angry fists.

Isra felt slightly ashamed. Finally, they reached the landmass, a strange island with purple long grass, unfamiliar flowers, and a gigantic gate-like structure.

She looked back, thanked the boat, to which it groaned tiredly, and jumped back into the water.

Isra carefully approached the gigantic gate. Its frame was covered with spiraling ornamental designs, with some writings in between. Clinging moss covered it from the bottom to the top.

By now, the sun had set, but the moon was bright.

Isra picked up a stone and started scraping off the moss from the lower edge. It took her some time, but when she finally finished, she gasped.

"WELCOME CHILD OF THUNDER, DESTROYER OF SE-" The rest of the words were scraped off.

She brushed her hands over the writings as a spark of electricity traveled between her and the door frame. It began to illuminate and creak, then the gate opened.