long. The king of the gods ordered Sang Hyang Ananta Boga—the ancient dragon god—to embody the new island they forged. Then Sang Hyang Kurma Gni—the turtle god—joined Ananta Boga and became the foundation of the island. And finally, Sang Hyang Kala—the god of protection—finished the creation by providing soil and the sky. The king of the gods was pleased with their hard work and named the island Banua Bahru, which later became known as Bali. Since the creation, all the gods and deities under Ida Sang Hyang Widhi’s command have resided in Bali. That’s why Bali is called the Island of the Gods.”
I mouthed ‘wow’. “I didn’t know you were such an expert in local folklore.”
Declan took a small sip from the cup. “My ancestors have strong connections with the Balinese Dragon God, Sang Hyang Ananta Boga. It is said that Ananta Boga, who was also the ruler of the kingdom of the dead, wanted human offspring. He consorted with a Balinese princess and begat a half-mortal son. This son had wanderlust. He went scouring the four corners of the world for adventure for hundreds of years before finally settling in a new land called Ireland. Our family believes we are the direct descendants of that half-mortal, dragon god’s son. The name Cairne came from the dragon god’s son’s nickname—warrior of the wind. In old Sanskrit, the name was written as camuucara and pavana. Don’t ask why that became Cairne in the Irish tongue.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s a fascinating family history. You’re saying you’re a direct descendant of a dragon god?”
Declan only smiled simply. “Do I look like a dragon to you?”
Yeah, it sounded silly. I laughed along. My laughter died down when I remembered the flash of leathery wings I thought I had seen last night. I quickly shook the notion away. Nah. Impossible. It must have been a figment of my imagination. Make that an alcohol-induced figment.
Declan rose from his seat. “Are you ready?”
I followed his suit. “Yes, I am.”
“Are you tired?”
“A little,” I admitted.
“Sore?”
I grinned. “Guess.”
“Poor you.” Declan pecked a kiss on my cheek. “No sex today, then.”
Somehow, I mourned his decision.
He held my hand and we walked outside. He told me to leave my shoes on the veranda. We went barefoot.
Morning dew caressed my feet as we strolled on the grass. The wind was slightly chilly. Luckily, I had my sweater on. The hotel was built near a hillside, surrounded by lush, fertile rice fields. It carried a theme of traditional Balinese villages. That was why all the villas had been built surrounding the main building, mimicking the tranquillity of the surrounding nature but with the luxury of an upscale resort.
Our villa nestled just near a river, flanked by emerald-green rice fields. We walked hand in hand along narrow dirt paths. About two hundred feet away, a wooden pavillion had been erected in the middle of a rice field for the hotel guests who wanted to relax in seclusion. The place was empty when we got there. Either that or Declan had reserved the spot exclusively.
We washed our feet with water from the big earthenware bowl at the bottom of the step and climbed up the open and airy pavillion. We sat side by side on the edge of the structure, our feet brushing against the stalks of rice plants. Declan wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I rested my head on his chest.
We watched the sunrise together.
Declan hadn’t been kidding. The sunrise was spectacular. On the horizon above the tree line, the sun slowly ascended, painting the sky with glowing hues of orange and red. Birds chirped and roosters crowed from afar. I might have heard the low grunt of the water buffalo that local farmers employed to till the fields. There was an air of magic in this place that made every fibre of my being mellow and relaxed. People said Bali was an island of paradise.
It was true.
After watching the sunrise, we headed to the in-house