Clair de Lune.
My mother once told me, she could hear nothing more but the music when she was giving birth to me.
The symphony she heard when she hardly saw what went on before her eyes. The lullaby that played the moment she forgot how to breathe, when she long abandoned the thought of concentrating in pushing. Everything was going so fast, so blurry, so painful. Her heart was racing fifty miles per hour and her chest heaved like the air was as heavy as gravity. By then, she was slipping away from consciousness and her eyelids weighed like boulders. The soft tunes eased her wrecking nerves. It chased away her fears, it made her feel safe. She wanted nothing more than to be embraced by the comfort of slumber and be lulled by the music - this certain music - and it gave her just what she wanted.
She fell asleep while I was left to struggle my way out into this world.
She told me she fell in love the first time she saw me. A babe she has given life into this world - without sin, without problems, without worries. Without knowledge of how life can be so difficult to live. She held me in her arms and kept me close to her full bosom, whispering gentle words to my ears - how she would love me, how she would protect me. I cannot remember this moment of course, nor did the place where I was born, what happened during labour.
I have asked her multiple times but she has declined to answer multiple times as well – only telling me what's important was that I lived.
And that was all she ever told.
My sister was born in the winter. Mother said she almost died when her water broke and my sister decided to come out unannounced. I was barely a year old when she was delivered- in the forest. I asked her over and over why we were there but her only reply was that we were out for a walk, with me on her back when it happened. I didn't believe her -
But that was all she ever told.
In this desolate place we continued to walk. Fragments of broken shards have scattered like grass on the ground and the unsettled dust danced and scattered into the air. Mother always comes here for years in secret before, sneaking out dead in the night with nothing but her cloak and a book. She did so when she thought we had fallen asleep, but she has thought wrong. I would wait for her return without a bout of her knowledge and I've kept it a secret since. Every time she was away, I would try and practice in picking up her aura, her emotions, her location, her thoughts, anything that has to do about her – but even until now I could not do it. I do not know how to do it or what I should do, but I knew even in my early years that I can and that I possess the same powers my Mother has been so desperately trying to hide. She may not tell me by the fear of something, something she can only know of but with such powers as hers, even a normal person would sense her might, what more so if it was her son. She is a strong being to behold and to avoid altogether. And I know that with her guidance and teaching, I too can become like her.
Yet I do not ask her questions anymore.
For as mysterious as she is and her actions are, no harm has been ever brought to us since I can remember. She was always with us when needed be. Always careful in answering us whenever we had questions. She loves us and we love her- and that's what we all need to know.
I used to ask her a lot of questions, she perhaps have mastered the arts of deflection for I have never truly understood the answers.
When I was 8 years younger, I asked her what she thought about these people called heroes. We were exploring the ruins that day, in search for warmer clothes and cozier beds to sleep on. I noticed a crumpled paper with most of its edges torn, some words illegible, laying on the ground as we passed by the destroyed towering houses. An urgent need for gifted humans who can watch over the city. People who protect the citizens, those who can become the best version of themselves. They were called heroes.
Mother went ahead with my sister on her back as I lagged behind to read the paper under all the rubble.
Heroes, it said. I wondered what it meant.
I ran after her and told her what I read. Mother may be as secretive and as conservative as she is, but she did not deny us the right to read and write. She taught us about the letters, numbers and certain languages humans used to speak when they were still present. What berries were safe to eat, how to locate clean flowing water, what animals to avoid. Anything that is essential for survival. Anything that has nothing to do about her past and our present condition.
She came into a halt and looked at me, her eyes delving deep into mine. I didn't know what she was thinking. Her face displayed no expression but her eyes; they conveyed great turmoil of emotions. After almost about minute, she slowly directed her gaze to the trees and frowned; her eyes instantly blank and insipid.
Every emotion that passed through her face remained undeciphered. Silence was the only answer she offered, as she dropped the subject like it meant nothing.
Two years later, I showed her a tattered thin book covered with dust and cement; happily flipping through the pages, showing her what I have discovered. Moments later, her nonchalance turned to rage after seeing the contents. She disposed it as soon as I showed it to her. She made me promise to stay away from the items that lay around the ruins and from the ruins in general, unless supervised or with company. I remember crying after she left me in disappointment and confusion. Back then I thought my feelings were justified. How selfish and inconsiderate mother was, getting angry over a half destroyed pictured book. Why she was angry, no thoughts came to me but I knew that anger wasn't the only emotion she felt when she ripped the book apart.
"What are you thinking about brother?"
My sister asked with ample curiosity in her voice. Her head tilted as she put her arms behind her.
"It's nothing." I answered blankly.
"Come on, you can tell me, mother isn't here." she said with a quiver of mischief. I smiled as I looked back at her, pocketing my cold hands inside my pockets. "Even if mother can or cannot hear it, it does not concern her or you." A lie of course, but it was better to lie than to tell his sister about what he really thinks. What sort of mysteries their mother has failed to tell them and what dangers it would bring. How he feels towards these secrets should be only kept to himself, until he deems fit the time should come and she must know about it all.
Deep inside, he felt that his sister knew about their mother... their heritage not being normal. He read enough pictured books to know so.
His sister can be so easy to read sometimes, or rather most of the time. But she chooses to only talk about her hunts and the discoveries she's made in the forest.
He adored his sister for she was the only friend he ever had. She was as beautiful as their mother but not as lively and as courageous as she is. His sister liked the forest and the creatures that lived there. She always made sure that everything and everyone was in order. She would plant hydrangeas flowers within the barren meadows of the forest and would make animal houses for rodents and birds that lived in and on the trees. By the cliff not very far from the forest, she built a tree house that would overview the ruins, most of the forest and the long great river, where she would spend most of her time cultivating herbs and plants for food and medicine. She played with the friendly critters that visit her humble garden and danced with the fiery creatures she has crossed paths with. She was by far, the most happy and loving person he knew; but after all, there were only 3 people who lived around the place.
"Liar."
We continued to trek the path we were walking. My sister was the only luminescent thing that can be seen in the bleak area. Everything that was visible can either be burned or wrecked. The air was not so fresh and longer exposure would bring discomfort to your lungs.
Depressing, gloomy, morbid.
Tall houses with plenty of windows used to exist here. Bright colourful lights shine at night and steamed horses were on the road as well as long fast animals that used transport humans from places to places. Mother never told us anything about these but I knew about it after I read a book from a room full of pictured books. Little plastic figures were encased in transparent glasses and unique masks and clothes were scattered on the floor. Mother once told us about a place where people strengthen their mind and ideas, a place called library. A place where all the great men and women's achievements were recorded and stored for generations to safe keep.
I have discovered a library and my heart raced in excitement. But mother never mentioned that the books would be so picturestique and...colourful. Action packed too! Good thing I did not tell her about the place while I was showing her the book or else she would have restricted me in going so ever again.
As I recalled, I came in contact with one of the lengthy beast in the ruins years ago. It was up above the ground, within the floating road. All my years I have never seen anything so...robust and rigid. and I felt its majestic power even as it laid dormant. One of its eye was gone and its tail, cut. Mother always said to not to go near anything that makes your heart race and palms sweat. A place that would give you the sense of confinement and impending danger. I felt all of these the moment I decided to climb to its location, but I cannot miss such opportunity - meeting a being from the past.
I steadied my heart, afraid the enormous beast would overhear the pounding as I made my way towards it. It was covered in soot and bruises as I examined it closer. It had red streaks besides its body, the rest of it composed of square hollows like windows in houses with broken shards of glass attached to its frame. There were bright red chairs within the beast as well.
Meekly, I greeted the proud beast and made my intentions known as soon as I came next to its blunt nose.
Nothing.
It did not perceive my presence, or perhaps I was too unworthy to be acknowledged. I turned to fully face the beast, my knees almost bucking as I stared straight into its eyes.
But I was welcomed by nothing.
No life was found from the bulky giant. The beast was as dead as the ruins.
My hand insensibly extended to touch it, dismayed and relieved at the same time it was dead. It was cold. Cold and dead. It was now merely the shell of what it once was, like this place. Like his mother.
"Am not."
I continued to smile behind my mask as I answered. We were still in the vicinity of the ruins. The dust and the stench still very evident even as we began to see the forest. The sun was beginning to paint the skies warm hues of colours and the birds began to retire to their trees. She stifled a laugh as she moved her hands behind her head.
"You know, I dreamed about what you showed me yesterday."
"What about?" I replied, a curious look etched on my face. "I showed you many things yesterday."
"Well about that very big fish with sharp teeth and a pointed nose." She mused, wildly waving her hands as she described the toothy creature. Even with a mask on her face, he can clearly see the expression his sister was executing.
"Oh, you mean the shark?" I asked vapidly, feeling the cold chills of the forest blowing my forehead.
"Yes that!" she gleefully confirmed, her eyes full of wonder and curiosity. "I dreamt that I was talking to a shark and that I played with him all day long deep down the blue blue ocean." She recalled with her eyes closed, her hands on her cheeks.
"As I recalled from the book, humans don't usually play with sharks due to their predatory nature but rather with dolphins."
We finally reached the end of the ruins and removed our thick masks from our noses. Cold fresh air greeted us and we hastily inhaled the rather more favourable scent of the earth.
She seemed to be in deep thought as I continued to fill her with information about the difference and characteristics of sharks and dolphins. She often thinks about the tiniest details and exaggerates their value. Feeling the cold breeze blow harder, she sighed a warm wisp of air then proceeded to wear her hood up and adjusted her scarf close to her neck. After my little trivia, she began to pout, folding her hands over her chest.
"Perhaps they are just misunderstood. Perhaps humans didn't get to know them better that's why they preferred the friendly dolphins."
I have always wondered the possibilities of going to the ocean when I was younger but the circumstances beg to differ. I shrugged as I continued to listen.
"Oh, if I were to meet a shark, I would surely gladly make it my friend then we could hang out all day!"
Sighing, I looked at her positively gleaming eyes. Sometimes her ideas become too wild to even grasp its sense that I've started to just let it pass. She radiated of hope and excitement. Happy traits that I have always envied. To have the ability to be so transparent- to display your emotions easily without fear of judgement or repercussions. If only I were half as daring as her, I would have asked mother to teach me how to use my gifts.
"But you need to be able to breathe underwater so you can hang out with it all day."
"I'll be on the shore, no problem-o! Then we'll spend the day together." She chided, pointing her index finger at me as she winked.
"Sharks cannot swim that shallow."
"Ehhh. Then I'll use my magic to find a way so we can hang."
I froze on my spot as she continued to stride. Surely this must be one of her mindless rants, right? But the possibility of her knowing about their unique...traits- Does this confirm the suspicions he's held?
Silence engulfed us when she noticed I was not following her anymore. She stopped in her tracks and walked back towards me. Her breathing was audible now, heaving her chest up and down as her eyes pierced through mine. Intent and pressing, prying for my unspoken answers and secluded thoughts; rummaging through my head. Dazed with her confession, all I could do was to look back; dozens of emotions ruling over my senses.
Then a burst of laughter echoed throughout the silence of the forest.
"Got you!"
"A-a joke?"
I almost stuttered.
She moved further, still laughing. "Yeah dummy! As if I have such totally awesome powers to do that."
I was about to retort but I found myself unable to talk back. My mouth only opened and closed, anxiously staring at my giggling sister. No idea where she can get the inspiration to be so…silly.
Sighing, once again, I distractedly set down the basket behind my back, full of fishes that I caught from the river. How old does his sister think she is? He could never blame his sister for being so light and care free though, after all, as far as characteristics and attitudes are concerned, they were leagues apart.
I brushed of my bangs away from my face, proceeded to pull out my cloak from my worn out satchel and wore it as my sister mirrored my action. Autumn was almost over. Most of the trees have finished stripping away all their leaves and the biting cold air has become harsher and earlier before dark.
"Brother?"
"Yes?"
She resumed walking, this time without her usual giddy enthusiasm, looking up the purple streaks in the sky.
"Do you ever wonder why we're the only ones living here? Why mother wants us home before a star becomes visible in the sky and the skies turn dark? She questioned nonchalantly all while becoming serious.
"Why she won't tell us what happened to the ruins or why we must always cont…" Her words died in her throat, the rest of the sentence trailed off before she could utter another word as she realized that the sun had completely set. It was time to run home- and time was essential.
We started running uphill. For many years we have feared the setting of the sun, not fully knowing the reason why. The cave was in view and in a few hundred meters we would make it home.
They arrived just in time the Venus appeared up in the sky and the nocturnal birds chirped with life. Their bodies acknowledged the change in temperature and they stripped off their cloaks. They scanned the room, expecting to see a very distressed mother, waiting for their arrival, but to their surprise, no one was at home. They started putting the lights on, making a bonfire at the centre of their cave. When the fire was steady and alive, they spiked the fishes they have caught and cooked it in the open fire, sitting in front of it in silence.
"Brother?"
"Yes?" I replied. Her voice in-depth, offbeat.
"What do you think Father would be like if he was with us?"
Silence.
"I-I…don't know." I said so.
We were silent once more. Not really comfortable in talking about such sensitive topics. The lack of one parental figure always, always left her vulnerable. Her face did not portray much for she stared blankly at the fire but her voice sounded so vulnerable, so full of… longing. In shame I attempted to read her emotions, invading her privacy, her space. But in vain I have failed, again.
"Do you think he likes fish too?" she asked blankly, hugging both her knees, her eyes glued to the fire burning the flimsy skin of the fish.
"Maybe." I replied in almost a whisper.
She smiled to herself and picked a stick that somehow drifted inside the cave.
"Mother said he was kind to all and saw the good in everything." She added as she poked the half-cooked fish's eye, piercing it and allowing its gooey gel-like fluid to drip.
Only the crackling of the burning firewood can be heard reverberating within the walls. I stayed silent as she proceeded to draw a stick figure on the ground using the same stick she stabbed the fish's eye with. It had a happy face and two long hands. She added three more stick figures besides the first one, connecting each other's hands, giving them happy faces as well.
"We never met him."
Her eyes mirrored her weakened words, burrowing her face to her knees. The smell of the room was damp and the billowing cold wind swelled outside the cave. If it weren't for the roaring of the wind outside their cave, he would have heard his sister's heart break a little.
"I met him." I told her softly.
She immediately lifted her dejected head and scooted nearer. She looked at me as if I had all the answers to her questions and urged me to tell her more.
"But I cannot remember anymore. I was but a baby." I wholeheartedly answered, my voice linger with dismay.
"Ohh." Was all she said. She retreated into silence, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.
"Mother rarely tells us about Father." She added.
This was true. There were only four things we knew about our father. First was that mother and father were long-time friends and that he insisted on going out with her, even just once. I can assume he was stubborn like my sister and as determined as well. Second was that he was the kindest person mother has ever known. His eyes were always full of compassion and life, like the forest itself. Next was his name and lastly, mother told us that father loved us with all his heart as he died protecting us. And that was all the information mother could share.
We continued to draw insubstantial sketches of the things we have seen and yearned to see on the ground. Mindlessly scribbling lines and doodles we can think of.
"I'm sure if father were to be alive, he'd look just like you brother." She chided, smiling half-heartedly.
"Perhaps… but he'll be, way livelier..." I replied in jest, with the hopes of attempting to lift her spirits up. "and more handsome!"
She sighed and laid her head against his shoulder. No words seemed to cheer her up and it pained him to see his sister get emotional over imagining a life they could have lived, a possibility they can never have.
"He'd be braver too, like his name."
"Yeah." she responded.
"Like his name." she repeated, writing father's name besides the first stick figure she drew.
"Garfield."
Thank you for reading! I will do my best to update every week or so. I am just sooooooo excited writing this idea that's been with me for like ages now. Reviews are deeply appreciated as well! Actually, reviews kinda keep me going, hehehe, fueling me up and telling me that I'm doing well with the story. Soooooo, please feel free to review :) :) :)
This is not the final form of chapter 1, but I am an impatient human and I wanted to share this right away! So it may not be of the best version I want it to be, but I will be editing these later.
With all my love,
Rai.