Chapter -144: Melancholy of the Wind
"I'm going to pick Justek up and head to Oreore!"
Darnia sat at that table, eyes slowly widening into a tense glare at the front door where his son was heading out. And beside where he sat, his wife once more encouraged his adventures.
"Well, tell us both how it goes, honey!" She said, no sense of malice towards him in her words, yet it stung just as hot.
Sarajin left this house expressing the growing distance between them in his wandering gaze.
Darnia's tension extended to the rest of his body, and he laid his cup to rest on the table to sigh, "Oreore next, huh...?"
Misty turned to him and smiled, "It's been a couple months since he went to Aquamoria. About time he went to a new Tribe, honestly."
"Mmmm..." Darnia stared down at his cup, swirling the few drops remaining around inside of it as he whispered, "Why did it have to be Oreore?"
"Dear," Misty remarked with her warm but firm concern, "Speak up when I'm around, please."
Darnia unglued his hand from the cup and put it on his lap. His tired gaze laid upon her soft face, disarming any reservations he may have had of speaking his mind, "First its Oreore, then it'll be Pulsa Minoria, and before you know it..."
"Then tell him," Misty spoke up, raising her voice an octave, "It has to come from you, Darnia."
"He won't listen to me," Darnia replied, weak and pitiful towards himself, "He still believes the surface is accepting of his adventurous ways, and that I am the 'villain' for trying to stop him."
Misty's glare narrowed, leading to her closing her eyes and standing up, carrying off her empty plate to the kitchen, "I don't know what to tell you then, dear. But you're going to need to make a choice someday."
Darnia sat there with a stiff, aching feeling in his chest. He closed his eyes and within the darkness, he saw himself, walking alongside his son and wife across his home. His son, so young that he could hold his tiny hand fully in his own, was suspended in the air between the two of them, made to sway back and forth as he giggled in excitement.
The laughter of that day echoed coldly in his head, with the smiles a painful reminder when compared to present events.
"Cgh...! Cgh...!"
He sprang upright upon hearing his wife cough, a couple drops of blood escaping her hand and falling onto her plate. He ran right up to her hunched body and rubbed her back, easing her until the coughs settled down.
She rose with a smile, the red of her innards caulking to her lips. She denied vulnerability with a gaze as sturdy as iron, and eyes that sparkled like diamonds.
"I wish..." She murmured, "That I was strong enough to help you through this, Darnia."
With his eyes swelling, Darnia gently sandwiched the hand her ring was on between his, and made her look him straight in the eyes as he whispered, "You...have always been more than that, Misty."
He then held on just a little tighter and begged of her, "Please, get some rest. I'll handle the dishes."
"We all have our roles to play, dear," She slid her hand free and wiped the blood off with her thumb, increasing the width of her smile in the process, "Let me be the wife, and the mother. You just need to worry about being a father."
Darnia withdrew with only the faintest acceptance of her wishes, "Alright."
He then kept his gaze centered on her as he turned and walked towards the front door, "I am going for a bit of a walk to clear my head, honey."
"Ok, don't do anything reckless though, you hear me?"
"Heh," He said with a half-smile, "You needn't worry about that."
Yet as he left his warm abode he was already scheming a plot to intervene with his son's adventures. What he needed was the space to do so without getting caught. So as he cursed himself for this white lie towards the one he loves, he began to move through the village.
His beloved pet Moses hopped off his perch and rode on his shoulder. Darnia fed him some seeds from his pocket and rubbed the underside of his beak, leaving him distracted to his owner plucking a feather from his cowl.
"I appreciate the company, my dear friend, but I need you to still keep an eye on Sarajin for me."
Moses squawked and then flapped its wings against his face to take off. He watched him leave, his departure bringing to mind another memory of the past.
Back then, Moses had come to him at the farm flapping and squawking in a panic. It was the first time Sarajin had attempted to dive off the city to go to the surface...And the beginning of the divide between father and son.
"Ever since then I've tasked Moses with keeping an eye on him." Darnia closed his eyes and sighed through his nostrils.
Moving through the city required no vision. He'd been around these areas so many times and nothing has changed since he was born. Avoiding any close encounters with the excited children by stepping aside gracefully, he didn't lose his pace, and continued onward towards Lostrom's home.
Before entering he tapped the door frame a couple times to confirm the man's presence.
"Who is it?" He replied, his jolly old self.
"It's me, Sir Galleo." Darnia said.
"Ah, Darnia. Please, come in."
Darnia entered and found the soft-spoken man tending to his star charts, organizing them neatly into rows. He pulled away from his endeavors to grace Darnia with his bearded smile.
"It's been a while. How is Misty doing?"
"She has her off days, but she's still just as spry and lovely as a spring blossom." Darnia said fondly.
"It does my heart good to know you've kept her well, Darnia," Lostrom closed his eyes and jiggled his head with a few nods, "There was no better man for her than you, I knew that from the start."
"I feel it's more the other way around, Sir Galleo." Darnia chuckled, feeling a tad embarrassed to have such undue praise heaped onto him.
"Now, I sense you're not here to speak of your wife's condition." Lostrom replied.
"..." Darnia narrowed his weary eyes and murmured, "Do you mind if I borrow your desk for a while?"
"Certainly, Darnia," However as Darnia began to make his way towards it Lostrom asked, "But if I may ask...Why?"
Darnia put his hands behind his back and uttered a short sigh, "It's my son."
"Oh dear..." Lostrom bemoaned, furrowing his brows out of concern, "He hasn't gotten into anymore trouble, has he?"
"Do not worry, he's not harassed any villagers since that day."
"Good good. I received a fair share of complaints for a while there." Lostrom guffawed.
Darnia made his way to the desk and sat down, remarking in a tone of dismay, "Unfortunately, he's decided to go to another new Tribe. This time, Oreore."
That blew the wind out of Lostrom, who coughed a few times before remarking, "Oh dear, if he catches any of our birds there it'll start all over again, won't it?"
"That's not what I'm concerned about." Darnia said, reaching underneath his poncho to pull out a small metal key attached to a string.
"Aaah, I think I know what you're referring to." Lostrom said with a few nods.
Darnia put the key into the lock on the top right drawer, pulling it out to reveal a few pieces of parchment and a glass jar filled with squid ink.
He pulled them both out and Lostrom remarked, "You're writing one of those letters, eh?"
Darnia took out Moses' feather and put the tip end into the ink jar. He then gazed up at Lostrom and stated, "Yes."
"To Oreore's leader?" Lostrom's chest sank with a sigh, "Do you even think he'll read it?"
Darnia hesitated midway through lifting the pen. He put it back in and shook his head, "I can't say for certain. It has been so long for both of us, and we have since gone down far different paths..."
He then gripped the pen and lifted it up, letting the excess ink drip off before moving it towards the paper, "But I must do something to dissuade my son's curiosity, before it's too late."
Lostrom closed his eyes and felt a growing sense of regret over what he was about to say, "...Yes, it's probably for the best if he stops exploring the surface now, lest he see things no man should ever have to witness in this world."
Darnia gave a subtle nod and then focused entirely on the paper. He could put one sentence down saying "Dear Johnathan" but his pen went still attempting to go any further than that.
Lostrom's words were clinging to his conscience, leaving him to drift deep within himself, to a time when his whole family was nothing but smiles.
It was a period of levity and wonder, where Sarajin was getting to grow more curious about his surroundings and how things worked.
He was still small enough to ride on his shoulders, but no longer felt as light as a feather. Darnia recalled his heart fluttering with warmth as he proudly carried his son around and introduced him to all the species of birds that live up in the city.
But what grabbed Sarajin's attention the most was how birds could fly.
He was always destined to desire leaving the ground behind and soaring through the skies of Genestasia. He was his son after all.
Not just a reflection of him in flesh and blood, but in spirit as well. He was an adventurous soul who burned with a yearning of knowledge.
And as his father, he couldn't stop himself from stoking those flames...
"How do birds fly, dad?"
"Why, they let the wind carry them where they need to go."
"Will I be able to fly like them someday?"
"...Heh, yes you will, son. Someday, you'll be able to go wherever your heart will want to take you."
Sarajin then spread his arms out and imitated the "Woosh!" of the wind and the soaring of the birds in front of him.
It was a memory that ended in smiles, yet clung to Darnia's heart with thorns of regret.
His writing hand trembled, marring the paper with scribbles of ink. And his heart ached, dislodging a tear down onto the parchment, its sound quiet yet not enough to go beneath Lostrom's notice.
"Darnia?" He murmured worryingly.
Darnia squeezed his eyes shut and put the feather into the ink jar, unconsciously remarking, "What am I doing?"
He laid a hand over the side of his face and grumbled in discomfort. Lostrom approached the desk and offered his hand, "May I offer my aid?"
Darnia brushed his hand out to dismiss him and then rose to his feet, tucking his hands behind his back and moving towards the front door.
"I feel it's not your aid I require, Sir Galleo..." Leaving the man behind to worry for his state of mind, a sentiment he felt towards himself too, Darnia went towards Twinbeak's tower.
The climb was slow but the pain came only from the weight on his shoulders. He left his mind to wander and think about the conflict within, hoping he'd come to approach the majestic Titan with a clarity over what he wished to say.
But when he reached the top he was stunned to find the Titan was nowhere in sight. Not that it was rare for him to do so, but the timing seemed ill, almost like a mockery of his bravery to scale the tower.
He was prepared to take his first step back down when he heard the mighty movement of the wind behind him and turned to see the giant owl flapping its wings to make landing.
"We had sensed your approach and came as soon as we could, Darnia Stratos." Spoke the Face of Reason, firm as a statue.
Its head turned, and the tear-dropped Face of Self spoke softly, "Your heart is tangled in a web of fog. You seek our guidance through it, do you not?"
Darnia paused with his side facing the Titan's body, his head hung and a hand laid against his chest, "It is my son, I know naught what I should do about him."
"He has ventured upon the surface of Genestasia for months now. He is not the same child he was before then."
"He knows nothing..." Darnia grunted in revulsion, taking a crude swing of his hand towards the owl, "And I wish for it to remain that way. Please, oh majestic ones. You, with such boundless wisdom, surely you could persuade my boy-"
"You insult us with your demand." Twinbeak spoke, brows slanted in a crass and vicious way.
"We observe and we advise. To encourage the true nature of the heart, not constrain it."
Darnia felt his hand shake as he turned it into a fist and laid it at his side. Gritting his teeth, he grunted, feeling lost in a maze of self-doubt, "So what am I expected to do then?"
He shook his head, "I have tried to dissuade him from going with my words alone but he refuses to listen. He's become disobedient, and distant..."
"But is he the one for whom the blame should be put upon?" The Titan stepped closer, lowering its face inches from Darnia's body, dwarving him with feelings of insignificance from his gaze alone.
"You claim to have spoken to him but have you ever used your true voice, Darnia Stratos?"
Even when the owl turned its head, the pressure merely came out from a warmer source, "You should speak from the heart. He is of your blood after all. Surely he would understand the truth if you approached him honestly."
Twinbeak rose, and with a brief biting of his lower lip Darnia gasped out a sigh, "He is like me. He is so like me that it hurts to look him in the eyes anymore."
He paced left and then right, gripping the side of his forehead with his right fingertips, "Yet the blame lies squarely at my feet. The wind from my voice kindled the flames of his curiosity, driving him towards the surface."
He pulled his arms down and reared his head towards the sky, tears beginning to swell in his eyes, "I just want him to be safe...Yet doing so means I shall deny him happiness."
He faced Twinbeak, and planted a hand against his chest, "Surely there must be a way I can give him both...!"
"The path you seek is a delusion," Uttered Twinbeak in a painstakingly blunt tone, "And the further you step down it, the more it shall hurt all those close to you."
Darnia's hands unfurled, putting himself at the mercy of the Titan's gaze as he begged of them, "Yet with every second I waste, he takes another step in the footprints I left behind, marching closer to a painful truth. P-Please, majestic one, guide me down the path that saves us both!"
"Your desire is acknowledged, Darnia Stratos..."
"But only your feet can carry you in the right direction. So you must ask yourself...What will be more painful for him? The truth coming from you, or the truth...crying out from the bleeding scars of the world?"
Darnia hung his wide-eyed head and uttered in a barely audible tone, "I do not know..."
Twinbeak moaned, clawing its talons deep into its nest, "...Then wander, lost in your heart's fog forever."
The mighty owl then nestled down to take its rest.
Darnia stood there, trembling while his fists got taut at his sides. His rage expressed not towards this faultless bird, but at himself for wasting his and their time.
He dragged himself towards the stairs to begin a long descent towards the bottom. His body felt as heavy as the world right now, and all the thoughts weighing him down were directed towards his son.
He wanted nothing more than to return to the time where every day they smiled. It seemed like a distant memory, nay, perhaps it was all a dream in the end.
His vision swirled around and he felt dizzy, stopping to plant his hand against the wall.
Many voices whispered within, dismissive tones and negativity being their only purpose. It left him feeling tired, with the strength of a man twice his age.
His vision was scratched by blurry static.
He saw a pool of blood at his feet.
Before him, a lithe figure in shadow.
And they smiled. Unrelenting, uncompromising, they smiled.
It was a smile so close that he felt a hand clawing onto his shoulder, forcing a scream out of him as he swung his hand back to repel it.
Yet there was nothing there. He knew that. Yes, he definitely knew that.
His body was dripping with a cold sweat. His body, already one foot in the grave. His heart, twisted dry of its blood.
But though he was stiff like lumber, he continued to move down the stairs, fueled by only one desire...
"I can't let Sarajin continue down this path. I MUST stop him, no matter the cost..."
So he caved in to the clouds in his heart, and continued to wander down this path. Yet he held confidence in this "conviction", that this would be the way to return to the days of ignorance and happiness he enjoyed with his family.
A time where he could trick himself into believing the world was only as small as the place he lived in. A time when he could forget what painful things existed on the surface. A time where his son's smile gave him strength, a strength to cast aside the miserable shadows that whispered in his ear.
He returned to Lostrom's house with his head held high, walking right towards the desk and taking a seat.
"Did they help you out?" Lostrom had his doubts, for he was no blind man, and Darnia's eyes were steeled by an unstable force.
Yet Darnia gave a firm nod, gripping the inked feather with only some mild tremors hesitating him to pick it up, "I am fine now, Sir Galleo...I know what I must do."
He sat there and put his feather to paper once more. But now he only raised it to move from letter to letter. Until he finished transplanting his thoughts to the paper, not even the chirps of the birds outside could disturb his thoughts.
He took some milk from Lostrom midway through to keep himself refreshed, then resumed at his regular pace.
With the letters put right in front of him so concisely and neat, he felt like he was having a direct conversation with the person in question.
And in narrating this letter to himself, he could hear the emotions in every word...A last chance plea, full of apology and regret, to an old friend.
"Dear Johnathan,
It has been a long time since we last saw each other.
I don't know if you even remember me. Or if you see me as a friend anymore.
But I don't want this to concern us, for I write to you about my son and the mistakes he is about to make.
He has been traveling on the surface for a few months now and plans to make his way to your home of Oreore.
He's a young, healthy boy in the middle of his adolescent years. You'll know him by the energy he spares in every action he takes.
He is a wonderful boy, and I am both proud and scared to be his father.
For much like me, his curiosity guides him down a dangerous path.
Try as I might, I've been unable to dissuade him from leaving the surface world behind and returning home.
That's why I am contacting you. I want you to intervene and leave him unable to want to come back to the surface.
If that means exposing him to the War, then so be it. All I ask if you pull your punches and do not physically harm him. I do not need to remind you what'll happen if you do.
There's not enough room on this frail paper to say everything I wish to say.
I do not ask for forgiveness, nor do I expect it...
But please, don't let my son suffer the same fate as I.
Your old friend, Darnia Stratos."
He put his feather down and left the ink to dry for a few seconds, uttering a satisfied "There" as he then rolled it up and put a small red ribbon around it.
"Wrote everything you wished to say?" Lostrom remarked.
"I have," Darnia said confidently as he tucked the letter into a pocket under his poncho, "All I can do now is hope."
"Say 'Hi' to Misty for me Darnia, and just make sure not to push yourself too hard." Was the note Lostrom chose to leave their meeting on, a sentiment which Darnia agreed on as he did not say a word as he left for home.
The journey back was a peaceful one, the wind whispering a pleasant melody into his ear.
As he neared home he looked at the people walking about, doing the same routines as they do any other week.
And he thinks "Sarajin will be safer here" while deep down, he knew full well that he was already growing apart from the comfort of home.
"He may get bored again at first, but when he settles into a normal life, he'll be happy..." It was a simple, if not delusional hope, that kept him feeling convicted to his cause.
Marching down the final stairway before home, Darnia looked on ahead and was stunned to find his son had returned.
But he was making his way back with stiff legs and an almost lifeless expression.
"...Son?" He muttered, hastening his steps to intercept him before he entered the house, "What appears to be the problem?"
"D-Dad, I...Why are you outside the house?" Sarajin replied.
Darnia patted his pocket to make sure the letter was secure and then stared down into his son's eyes. And all he could see was the Devil reflected in them...
It left his heart aching and any attempt to speak up was put to the guillotine by his guilt. He went down on one knee and put his hand towards his son's face, pausing halfway through.
Sarajin brushed past him with a frown and then went into the house. But he moved with the lifelessness of a wraith, his clouds having become gray.
Darnia stood and closed his eyes to sigh, "He must have learned of something terrible. Perhaps there will be no need to intervene after all..."
He went inside and watched his son go into the living room and collapse onto his knees in front of the table. Misty tended to his state of mind, but her words led to him giving generic reassurances of his well-being.
Neither of them wanted to push the matter and thus it was a quiet, melancholic day throughout the house.
Darnia was hoping that whatever he learned would be enough to scare him from returning to the surface...But he couldn't help but be curious to know what tipped the scales in favor of him returning to the sanctity of home.
Was it the Rot Walkers? Did Johnathan scare him off, recognizing Sarajin for his last name? Or worst of all, did he stumble upon that place?
It wasn't far off from Oreore so the possibility was there.
But no exchanges were made regarding the topic. Both sides were prisoners to their emotions.
It would be left untouched until the next day, where the expected did not occur and Sarajin was still determined to go to Oreore.
And worst of all, he was disrespectful towards not only him, but his mother as well.
Darnia felt an ember of rage ignite in his heart, as the boy's ignorance was beginning to manifest as problematic behavior. And it was not only indicative of the lenience he had been given by the world, but also of his own failures to reign him in...
He had to reassure his wife that everything would be ok, a promise he could not make lightly anymore.
He had stayed his hand the prior day because of the sorrow in his son's vacant stare but now? Now he could not afford to hesitate out of sentimentality.
Once breakfast had been finished he set outside the house and gave Moses some of his scraps, helping him to be full up before setting him out on his hardest task yet.
Darnia took the letter from his poncho and held it before Moses' beak, telling him sternly, "Find Johnathan Gaia and make sure it's delivered to him safely, then leave immediately."
Moses gave a cheerful squawk and then put the letter tightly in his beak, taking flight for Oreore.
All he could do now is wait. Whether it'd take an hour, or take the rest of the day, he'd be here in Arc Hurricanos when his son returned.
And return he did, downtrodden but unharmed. There was no enthusiasm in his eyes and he looked as pale as a newborn cloud.
Johnathan had to be the culprit this time, Darnia assumed. But it was no relief to find that he had succeeded without knowing just what put an end to Sarajin's time in Oreore.
Darnia would hope that, robbed of the desire to go to the surface, Sarajin would open up to him once more and accept his fatherly wisdom.
But he was silent and withdrawn within his own room, refusing to eat or take care of himself. Darnia stood outside his door, peeking in on occasion to see if his condition would change.
Even uttering the word "Son" would've helped change his mood, but he couldn't do that.
Darnia was content to just leave him alone and let him have the maturity to extend his heart out towards him.
The following day Darnia went to get some milk. He wanted to be prepared to have a drink with his son when he was ready to talk.
But as he brought the container home to be chilled in the ice box, he lurked out of sight at the top of some stairs and watched as his son ran towards the opposite end of the village.
And his heart ached, for he knew without ever seeing his face that his determination had returned, and he would once more descend upon the planet's surface.
Despite suffering pain twice over in just as many days, Sarajin's heart was stronger than his father would dare admit.
But with that strength would only come a greater pain.
The wisdom of Twinbeak reverberated in his conscience, "What will be more painful for him? The truth coming from you, or the truth...crying out from the bleeding scars of the world?"
In his eyes the pain would be equal, and would no doubt sour Sarajin's naive perception of the world forever.
He was desperate to keep his son safe, but not so much so that he would be the one to deliver that pain unto him.
So all Darnia Stratos could do was entrust the fate of his son to the whims of faceless strangers, friends he's long since cast aside, and the world itself...
And as he walked back home to contemplate these matters, he believed there would be only one end to this narrative woven in his head...
"I shall always be your father, Sarajin...Even if you hate me for what I do, what I do shall keep you safe from the pollution of this world."
"If you experience hate, I shall be here with love. If you are hurt, I will mend your wounds. If you cry, my shoulder shall dry your tears. And if you fall, I wish to be here to lift you back up..."
"We are both born of the same mold, my son..." Darnia closed his eyes and tears trickled down his cheeks, as his son ran opposite the path he walked, "I just wish I had the strength to make you understand what I sacrificed..."
Next Time: Hearing the Forest