The legend of the fountain - part one

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Some time ago in one of my errant trips in the mountains I came to an old fashion fountain from which I drank water. The water was a little bit salty, which was very strange as I wasn`t in a region with salty minerals. And not only that it felt salty, but after I drank it I felt a lot of suffering filling my chest. I kept going with this strange feeling in me, approaching a village. And more closely I came to the village more familiar seemed the surroundings. With the eyes of my mind, I saw kids playing in a springlike glade, jumping to catch flowers from the trees or mites in the air. It was joyfulness and sadness in the same time.

When I first encounter a real human being, a woman in her forties caring a bag, I told her about the fountain and asked why the water was salty. She looked at me as I was a ghost my self and said simply “It`s tears” and moved on as in a hurry. I couldn`t say anything, so I moved also still full of curiosity.
It was one of those mountains villages with houses here and there with no real streets, but rocky pavement or paths and a lot of nature at every corner. I approached a group of elders sitting on a bench in front of a house, but I wanted to avoid them, as I knew if I`d start chatting with them they would talk for hours. So, I just said “Hi” and tried to move on. But, they called me…
“Did you drink the water of the fountain?”
In a fast mind search I was trying to see if there was any other fountain I encountered except the one I`ve drank from, but there wasn`t.
“Yes”, I said.
“How do you find it?”
I smiled: “If one is thirsty it`s ok. A little bit salty.”
They looked at each other and then they made place on the bench and called me over.
“Come here child”
“Why is it salty?” I asked.
“Not many can feel the salt in the water,” they said. It`s tears. You may be feeling it for two different reasons- your body is very sensitive to suffering or you are her.”
“How old are you, child?” asked another.
I told them my age at that time and they looked at one another with the same deep expression of comprehension in their eyes.
One old lady, the one close to me took my hand in hers and tapped it softly.
“Oh, child! Many will come, many will go…Many places you`ll be, many places you`ll leave…Don`t be afraid! You`ll find he …or he will find you! Not now, not tomorrow, but maybe when you`ll forget the pain that you`ve seen”
Imagine my surprise when I heard all these words. I was still very young at that time, but I knew in these places people tend to aliment their lives with fantastic stories. I laughed silently.
“Tell us what did you see?”
“What?...”
“How did it felt after you drank it?”
Ididn`t know if I should told them or not. I felt awkward.
“I saw kids playing, I said. And I wanted to leave it there.
Again that exchange of looks. And they got up and asked me to follow them.
“Come, child. We have a story to tell and show you some places. Don`t be afraid”
And I noticed we were heading towards what I knew it was the church, just because it had a dome and a cross at the top.
“There is a legend around here…” the old lady from before said.