Kapitel von Schwan
AKT 2 [Mutter in Trauer]
Die Lemminkäinen-Suite: Lemminkäinen in Tuonela
(The Lemminkäinen Suite: Lemminkäinen in Tuonela)
By Fahiru
Once upon a time, there was a mother who loved her child very much. Though she wanted to protect the child, she knew that fate would not allow her to. The child grew up into a hero, bestowed with the task of killing a sacred swan. However, he failed the task and was slain, with only his mother left to mourn him.
"...Fakia...?"
A sharp sting permeated Fakia's right hand as it wrenched against the practice bar. His expression of concentration shifted slightly to one displaying miniscule pain. He turned his expectant gaze to the Ballett-Lehrer, who was looking very sorry to have addressed this particular student.
"Lehrer Vorsichtig?" he prompted.
"H-Herr Fakia...I...your hand...what did you do...?"
Fakia glanced down at the extremity in question, finding it caked with a dry, dark brown substance that was starting to smudge the bar. As the situation seemed appropriate, Fakia muttered something rather profane. This morning at the lake- I was planning to wash the blood off but couldn't with her watching the whole time...
Fakia fully faced the instructor, quietly informing him that he had tripped on the way to class and hadn't had time to thoroughly cleanse his hands.
The lehrer nervously eyed Fakia's injuries. "Oh! They look as if it was rather painful...You'd better go take care of them right away. You are excused from class for now...please come back directly when you are through."
Fakia glanced out the window, spying Ahiru plastered against the glass, no longer watching the class but gawking at Fakia's hands. Well, there went all hope of keeping her happy for the next few hours.
As Fakia strode out of the room he could hear a flutey voice exclaiming:
"Blood! Oh, the wonderful Fakia has been fighting! The blood on his hands may not even be his own! Oh, I'm getting excited- that's what the allure of a dangerous man does to you after all! What about you, Pique, how are you feeling? You look a bit pink- "
Her bothersome squeaks were abruptly cut off as the door thudded behind him. Being anti-social had its downs, such as attracting air-headed girls, but for the most part it had kept away a lot of people who he hadn't wanted to interact with. Except for her...
Striding to a small fountain located behind the dance department, Fakia recalled the irritation that Ahiru had caused him. It wasn't anything beyond normal at first. But it just kept nagging at him, like a blister, gradually gaining more and more of his attention. He paused as the water streamed over his hands, eventually washing away bits of dried blood. That's right. No matter how much I tried to turn her away, she kept butting into other people's business. In the end it was more her business than mine.
He started to gently massage his hands, grimacing at the needling pressure. But she challenged my hostility because she was different. Her interference wasn't out of selfish infatuation, it was because she wanted to help. She wouldn't gain anything by it, in fact she stood to lose everything by taking up the most unwanted role in the story, but she did it anyways. For Mytho...
Fakia frowned and started to rub at his hands harder, ignoring the burning that now raged in them. It was for Mytho. However, I wasn't a useless side character in that story. I gave her the resolve to defy her fate, didn't I? Even if it was one action, even if he was not as directly attached to the main character of the story, he was a very important part of her story. Wasn't he? In the end, she was...
Protecting her had become even more important than protecting Mytho.
Fakia let his hands drop. He knelt there, staring at the streaming water. How on Earth could one duck, one seemingly insignificant, completely stereotypical duck, so easily take priority over someone whom he had watched over and quasi-fathered since he was five? ...Because she's all I have left...but that wasn't it. There was something more than that.
He supposed that it was because his relationship with Ahiru was just completely different from his friendship with Mytho. While his involvement with Mytho barely qualified as a "friendship" so much as a guardianship, his involvement with Ahiru had definitely brought them to a point beyond friendship. We seemed to skip friendship, going right from uneasy allies to partners.
It made sense. They had been, and still were, very reliant on each other.
Fakia gazed up at the sky as he continued to scrub at his reopening wounds. He could just make out the distant shapes of birds chasing each other. The prey was small, no bigger than his hand, grayish-white and dirty yellow. The predator of the chase was larger, but harder to spot in the gloom of the looming building. It swooped out into the open sky, a spread of purple-black wings cast a vast shadow, one that could eclipse a small child. A hoarse call broke from its thick beak as it closed in on the smaller bird.
Raven.
Fakia snatched up a stone and flung it at the black bird.
Thwack.
The larger bird fluttered to the ground as the smaller creature it had pursued quickly made its escape.
Fakia stood frozen for a moment. He had meant to drive the bird off, not hit it directly. He sighed. Now I have to keep a dead bird from stinking up the grounds ... Might as well get it over with now.
As Fakia approached the mound of feathers, a strangled gargling started to emit from the black lump. It's still alive ... Fakia knelt, and as he did so immediately realized his mistake. This bird was much smaller than its shadow had suggested. It wasn't pure black either, but fringed with gray and silver. Not a raven. Not even a crow.
He gently prodded at the bird. It gave something of a wheezing gasp, but didn't seem to have enough energy to make any other response. Fakia slowly and carefully adjusted its position so that he could see it properly.
Ouch.
There was a dent in the stomach, blood oozed where the rock had hit, and quite a few essential flight feathers had been torn out of the left-wing. One leg was snapped in two, like a twig, and was only kept together by a bit of skin that hadn't been shredded by the splintered bone.
Lately, namely these past ten years, it seemed that every mistake had a grave consequence.
"What's that?"
"A bird."
"You picked up another one, did you now? What made you fall in love with this one?"
"I'm just taking care of it, and for your information it's male."
"Well that's a relief. At least you can still determine gender even if you don't care what species."
Fakia could feel the growl practically clawing to get out of his throat. He swallowed.
"Kweh!"
Luckily for Autor, Ahiru's interruption prevented Fakia from knocking off the other boy's head. Instead, he was forced to take care that she didn't catch sight of the bird.
"Fakia got himself a black lark."
"K...weh?"
Fakia turned to Autor. "A what?"
"A black lark," Autor adjusted his glasses. "It's the common name of Melanocorypha yeltoniensis, which is the species of bird you have so carelessly obtained. I did some research on them upon the discovery that Drosselmeyer had originally intended to use a black lark as the monster figure in Prinz und Rabe , or Prinz und die Lerche as it almost was. In his journals it is mentioned that the black lark held appeal as a potential monster due to the irony and contrast that the fall of such an innocent and generally admired creature would cause."
Here he paused for a moment before going on. "How did you happen to come across this particular bird in the first place, Fakia?"
Fakia looked away, more in an attempt to avoid Ahiru's eyes than Autor's. "It was on the ground outside the dance building when I was sent to wash my hands."
He couldn't let her know how much even the thought of ravens still affected him. She's had enough worries for a lifetime.
Feathers were strewn across the bedroom floor, giving the impression of spilled ink.
Fakia had tried to keep from jostling the bird, but it seemed to be undergoing an automatic molting. The bird didn't thrash about anymore, but its heart was pumping faster than a steam engine. Fakia had tried to staunch the bleeding without actually hurting the lark and had failed miserably. It seemed almost as if the fluffy blond from earlier had given a prophesy, now Fakia's hands were indeed splattered with blood that was not his own.
He decided there was nothing he could do for the bird's leg, it was useless to say the least and would need to be amputated. Fakia wasn't very well versed in nursing, but he knew a case that was completely beyond all hope when he saw one. He had laid the bird out on a handkerchief upon the table and continued in his attempts to not cause excessive pain as he tried to find the most efficient way to remove the broken part of the leg. The bone had splintered, so he would need to sever it right below the joint of the limb. Fakia performed the operation as quickly as possible with a letter opener, which happened to be the only tool he had on hand due to dorm regulations. The lark didn't cry out, it didn't seem to have the energy to, but its eyes glazed over, and he had to check its pulse before continuing. He quickly bound up the stub as best he could with a strip of cloth that he had cut from his shirt sleeve; after all, the garment was already hopelessly worn, another bit shouldn't matter.
While the bird was out Fakia decided to examine the rest of its injuries. Its stomach wasn't bleeding quite so much, but had begun to form a nasty clot that was by no means free of either filth or bacteria. From prior experience treating Ahiru's open wounds, he'd learned to catch blood and dirt that could be hidden under feathers.
Once he was finished cleaning and binding the stomach the best that he could, he inspected the left-wing. The tip was nearly bald, not just from the rock but from the molting. This bird wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and there was nothing at all he could do about it.
He dropped into a chair, frustrated. Head in hands he sat, considering his situation. I can't leave without it if I go early tomorrow morning as usual, so I'll either stay here or allow Ahiru to worry over the bird too. But I can't let her do that, it's my own responsibility.
Fakia lifted his head to look out the window.
But I can't leave Ahiru alone at the lake. It is her natural habitat, but she's so small, so weak. Leaving her anywhere with even a smidgen of potential for danger left him feeling anxious.
He rose and walked into the bathroom to wash the bird's blood from his hands and his face, where he had unconsciously smeared it.
That was it then. Ahiru would have to sleep in the dorms for the night.
"Are we even allowed to bring animals in to the school dormitory?"
Fakia snorted but didn't bother to look up as he answered. "Animals used to be admitted into the school as students."
"Seeing as maestro is no longer an okapi, I would assume that the administration is no longer so open-minded."
"Ahiru is staying here tonight."
"Such a rebel," Autor mocked. "Where is she going to sleep? I'm not giving you any of the pillows."
Fakia did look up this time, handing Autor a carefully arranged wad of fabric as he did so.
Autor sniffed. "And this is?"
"A nest. Sort of. What do you need all the pillows for, anyway?"
Autor turned carelessly to his side of the room as he pulled a light shirt up over his head. His back was crisscrossed with numerous fading bruises, some of which had broken open, leaving him with long, ugly yellow-brown scabs.
"While you were attempting to to write something useful, the head of the Bibliothek Trolle was trying to break through the door with an axe. I got to be part of the barricade. It'll take a while to heal, get used to no pillows."
Fakia turned away, stripping off his own shirt as he changed clothing.
And here I've moped about my involvement and failure in the story. Ahiru's alive, isn't she? I haven't failed. I'm just still working.
He glanced back at Autor, who had gone silent and crawled into bed.
If anyone has the right to feel dissatisfied with their role... Autor's taken bigger blows from this than I have. He didn't hold a major role, or any given role at all, and even though he admired Drosselmeyer so much...he still helped us defeat him.
Fakia heaved a sigh.
And as much as I hate admitting it, we would have died without him. He's still helping me, even now.
Fakia plucked Ahiru from his bed, where she had fallen asleep during the most recent conversation. Gently, he placed her among the woven strips of cloth on his bedside table. Checking on the lark one last time, he slipped between the sheets and closed his eyes. He wanted today to leave him as soon as possible.
For the first time in so many consecutive days, Fakia felt the sunlight warming his face and the softness of a mattress at the same time. He let his eyelids slide open, taking a few moments to register the yellow that encompassed his vision. Ahiru had rolled out of her mound of a nest and now lay sprawled on the mattress about a foot from his face...could birds roll?
It was nice not having to worry, but instead being able to wake up to see her well beside him. If only I could bring myself to separate her from the lake all together...
Fakia gingerly snuck out of bed, careful not to let the mattress spring up and shock the duck who still slept peacefully. It's a little strange, but now that I think about it, don't ducks usually sleep curled up rather than spread out? Who knew...
He slipped the curtain aside, watching Ahiru's canary and her nearly matured brood as one by one they gave chase to each other in the early morning sky. Even as they drew so close to adulthood, still being able to stay by a parent seemed to be such a luxury. Birds are really chummy. I wonder just how much attention they might need-
Fakia quickly turned his attention to the box where he had put the black lark the night before. Holding his breath as a sudden anxiety overcame him, he peered closely at its still body.
Its chest neither rose nor fell.
Somewhere in the courtyard, Fakia swore that he could hear the urgent calls of a bird that had lost its mate.
(A/N; So I hope it doesn't bother anyone that I gave Autor a sort of "info-queen" role in this chapter, I promise I have great plans for him as he is pretty much my favorite character to write right about now...if you can't already tell. In case you're wondering, "Bibliothek Trolle" is German for "Library Trolls", which is a title that me and my siblings find more appropriate in regards to the "book men".
Also, I don't normally give mention to any outside influence in my Author's Notes as it breaks up the mood ["presentation!"] as well as the fourth wall...which I'm already breaking by inserting myself into the chapter via A/N...but yeah. "..." Oh yeah, back on track, there were many very encouraging people who I would like to thank, even though this is only the much procrastinated-on second chapter. My sister, FullMentalPanic, who proof-reads absolutely everything I write, it means a lot to me. Thank you for giving such honest yet tactful advice, I love your constructive criticism, as well as the late-night hilarity that these writing sprees bring about. LauParisi; What good times one can have solely through PM! You've been a huge help by just being there for me, the super-underground-soon-to-be-society of the Sabnoteofs shall rule the world some day. Just you wait. WinniUsagi! My very first reviewer! Thank you so much! beyond-the-shadows; you are one of the authors on here that I hold in highest regard, you have no idea how much it means to me that you actually read one of my stories, too! I'll try my best not to disappoint you, so please continue to guide me. But, y'know, no pressure. ^-^
Also, thank you to the following for alerting, favoriting, and/or reviewing!
DancingArtist22, EmeraldoftheFlame, Tensai55, Diabolical Kitsutora, and The Joker's Ears and Eyes. Thank you so much for your support! I can't believe how many people favorited after just the first chapter!
I will not be giving acknowledgements for every chapter, as I feel that the main focus should really be the story, and I don't mean to guilt trip people into reviewing or following with this either. Things like that are your own decision. This sounds like a pep-talk.
Okay, but any-who, I apologize for the slow development, however, I have no intention of speeding it up as every single part of this that I am writing has significance in the story. Sorry for the ramble, those of you who read this far into it, future notes will be much shorter. I make no promises about the release of chapter three (because the avoidance of being a hobo for my future career is more important than fan fiction, let's face it), other than the promise that it will come out. So just know that this story will never go on Hiatus, I am constantly writing it and/or planning it out. Thanks!)
