I am back, just as I promised. I am doing shorter chapters in order to lengthen the story a bit. I realized while looking back through old chapters that I made them far too long. I do so much discription in my writing that I feel people get bored with too long of chapters.
Enjoy the next chapter and thank you for reading.
The totem for the mangrees was next to the hunting post. The necklace glowed with a memory.
"Intelligent… strong family bonds… playful… loyal…"
"For having killed so many, it sounds like Achenar liked the mangrees."
"I would like to know when he carved these totems and why," Trace stated.
"Once we get into that lake house, maybe we'll find out," Melody said.
Of course things couldn't be that easy. They worked their way through the swamp, Melody only freaked out once when a frog jumped in her hair and startled her, only to find the bridge to the lake house was blocked by a gate.
"It seems he is like Atrus after all," Trace noted wryly.
There were several latches on the gate that had animal footprints painted on them. When Melody pulled one back, it snapped back into place. When she unlocked another it stayed open, but when she tried to pull back another both of the latches snapped back.
"This was the reason for that food chain paper," she said and began pulling back the latches in the order on the paper. She decided she liked Achenar more than Sirrus right then. This was the only puzzle they had found and it was a simple one. Haven was a welcome relief after the headache Spire had been.
When she finished, they watched as what they'd thought had been a gate actually lowered and turned out to be part of the bridge. They looked at the wooden gears and pulleys underneath, then back at each other. Achenar was definitely smarter than people gave him credit for. At the very least just as mechanically minded as Sirrus.
The house was a small, one room cabin on the bottom and a tower that had been made from the crow's nest of the shipwreck. The mast of the ship sat in the middle of the room. A bed was against the back corner. Unlike other beds of Achenar's that she had seen, Melody was surprised to see that this one was clean. It had a pillow and a red blanket that Catherine likely gave to him. A desk had been put together by sliding a large piece of board into a hole in the wall. A chair made from a barrel sat next to the desk and a chest full of pieces of cloth, pulleys from the ship and handmade tools such as hammers and a fishing net. A barrel of rain water sat under a hole in the roof.
It was no luxury villa, but it looked comfortable and homey considering what he'd had to work with. There was something about it though that troubled Melody, something that was missing. She couldn't put her finger on it.
The desk had a wooden bowl, a wooden cup, a metal spoon and several candles that looked like they were made from dried animal fat. Gross, but creative and it got the job done. A piece of paper showed a drawing of the face of one of the mangrees. It looked very old. The detail was intricate.
"While Sirrus was carving crystals, Achenar was developing a talent for drawing," Melody noted, fascinated with the realistic drawing.
They found a shirt on the bed that looked brand new. Catherine again obviously. As Melody fingered the material, the necklace glowed.
Achenar's voice, sobbing. "Please! I can't take it anymore! It's too late! They're all dead! All dead!"
It was so shockingly different than the other memories Melody dropped the shirt and grasped the necklace with a gasp. His voice… it had sounded so desperate… so heartbroken… the depth of despair in his sobs confused her. What was he talking about? Who was dead? Whatever had happened it sounded like it had completely broken Achenar.
Trace waited until she explained. He frowned, but said nothing.
On a box filled with fruit next to the bed, they found another drawing of a mangree. This one was young, it's ears flopping over instead of standing upright like the others. Once again the attention to detail was amazing.
It suddenly hit Melody what was missing from the home. Every place she had gone where Achenar had been was decorated with bones. Here, in this lake house Achenar had built with his bare hands, there were no bones. Not a single one.
She pondered the significance of that as they climbed up into the crow's nest.
The view was nice. They could see the jungle and even some of the shoreline. They could see karnaks flying in the distance and heard their calls. A telescope, probably from the shipwreck, had been set up. Trace looked through it and saw that it was trained on a karnak nest. Melody looked through and gushed over the babies crying for food.
A stack of papers nearby showed sketches of the different animals with numbers below them. The necklace glowed with a memory.
Achenar's voice, much calmer in tone. Not as hoarse as it had been in other memories. "Come on. They should have had some births by now. Why aren't they reproducing? Oh god… what if I killed too many females?"
Melody pursed her lips. He'd sounded like a little boy who had done something wrong. "Achenar was keeping track of how many of each animal there are."
"So he went from homicidal maniac to an ecologist," Trace said. "Interesting."
A table had been made from a plank laid atop a box. Another drawing of a mangree lay on it.
"Look Trace," Melody pointed. "It looks like the one we helped."
Indeed the animal in the drawing had the same large eyes and tuft of black fur between its ears. A small box of wooden bowls filled with different colored inks sat next to the drawing. The necklace glowed with a memory when Melody picked up the brush.
Achenar chuckling humorlessly. "If you could only see me now brother. Mixing up inks like the tree dwellers in Channelwood taught us. Remember that? Remember…? I do…"
Okay, so he was still out there at least he seemed calmer. In fact, he seemed almost contemplative. He had started thinking about the past, really thinking about it. Did he remember what he'd done? Was he starting to think about the consequences his actions had had on the people he'd hurt?
The painting underneath the mangree drawing made her catch her breath. It was a scenic painting, the view of the jungle from the crow's nest. The beauty and color of the scene was incredible. That Achenar of all people was capable of expressing such beauty was the most shocking thing of all.
What she found underneath that painting almost made her cry. It was a painting of Catherine, her eyes soft and her smile warm. In this painting, Achenar had managed to capture the essence of who Catherine was : a gentle woman who simply glowed with goodness and love. It was the part of his mother that Sirrus had never taken the time to see.
"He changed…" she said aloud, more to herself than to Trace. "He really changed…"
"Stranger things have happened," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders as he studied the painting over her head.
Melody made certain to put everything back where it was. "He's made such a peaceful life for himself. I feel like I'm an intruder in someone else's happiness."
"We had to know," Trace told her.
"I know, but it feels wrong."
Inside a small chest, they found a journal. Melody picked it up reluctantly. "I'm not sure I want to read this now."
"It needs to be done," Trace reminded her.
Knowing he was right, she sighed and opened the journal.
Not sure I can do this. Pen feels awkward. Keeps slipping. Been so long since I used one. But what else is there? What else to do?
Went back to the wreck today. First time since moving to the house. Found his bones exactly how I left them. Except clean now. Bleached white but the sea.
How many times have I replayed it since then? Sun sinking into the waves. Tip of my spear gleaming wet with the poison. See myself crouching low near the rocks. So SURE he will come. Because of his mate.
Sometimes – in my head – it happens different. Poison gets diluted. Or one of her ropes snaps and breaks. He rears back. Spear misses. Somehow they both get away. And we all get one more day worth living for.
Reset traps today. Swamp water corroded one of them. Forced to go to wreck to fix.
Coming back I saw a camodile take down a zephtyr. Moved with precision. Not a since gesture wasted. Zephtyr probably didn't feel a thing.
It's not what I expected, living lakeside. It's calmer. Not as windy. But rain still beats down like in the wreck. And it's hot. Still hot.
Only real difference is the screams. Lot closer now. On all sides. Starting to get on my nerves.
Screams? Achenar was hearing screams? Screams from what?
Can't sleep. Too many screams. And when I close my eyes, the things I see. The faces…
M y god Sirrus.
Did we really kill so many?
Melody drew in her breath sharply. "He wasn't talking about animals. He was talking about people. The lives they destroyed."
"The solitude was starting to affect his mind on a different level," Trace said. "It was never required for Achenar to think about deep things before. Sirrus always did the thinking for them. Likely for the first time in his life, Achenar had to think for himself."
Melody shook her head. "That must have been hard on him. Hard and terrifying."
Added it up best I could. Been three years since I killed the beast. Keep thinking I should do something for him. Place some kind of tribute next to the bones. Totem pole maybe. Carving it will keep me busy for a while.
Maybe I can make one for each of them.
What followed were erratic notes, like the first journal.
What the use? What's the use?!
Can't go on like this
Can't THINK!
Have to do something. Keep my mind OFF the screams. Maybe… maybe go south for a few days. Sleep outside.
Karnaks got in while I was away. Forgot how agile they are. Maybe I can redesign one end of the bridge. Create some kind of lock to keep them out.
Went back to the south jungle today. Hoping I'd missed something. Saw a group of mangree under their nests. Thought about replenishing supplies, but couldn't do it. They just looked too peaceful.
Eventually turned to go and scared one of them that was watching me. Their lookout I suppose. Wonder how long he knew I was there.
The next entries were faded and hard to read.
Ink supply getting low. Watering it down, but might… way the Channelwood tree… taught.
Found some petals in the south jungle that might work for ink. Picked a few to take back. While picking them, I noticed something odd about the mangrees. In the north jungle they all scatter as soon as they spot me, but the south tribe only looks curious. Must be because I never hunted them.
I don't believe it! I went back to gather more petals and found a bunch of them already picked. There were lying in a pile where I'd been working before! Mangrees MUST have done it. Were they imitating me?
How the heck did Saveedro's people do it?! I've been weaving support branches for the lake house all day and my arms and chest muscles are killing me!
Mangrees sure got a kick out of watching though. One of them even stopped playing long enough to come over and give me advice. Least, that's how it seemed. Wouldn't stop chirping at me.
Melody couldn't help but laugh. Even Trace smiled.
Oh my god. It can't be. It can't!
This evening I was sketching in the post, trying to get their expressions right. Mangrees were playing that game they like to play. Fruit-tossing.
Ball must've rolled under the post. All of the sudden I heard this cry I'd never heard before. Sequence of drown-out highs and lows. Looked up and found all of them looking at me. Pointing at the ball and making that sound. Like they were calling a name. My name.
They've given me a name!
What am I supposed to do with this Father?! What am I supposed to do?
Melody felt tears stinging her eyes as she put the journal down. He sounded so lost. All the distrust and fear of Achenar vanished, replaced by pity for him that got her right in the heart. He'd never had a relationship with his father. Melody wondered if he had, would things have been different.
At that moment Melody became determined to reconcile Atrus and Achenar no matter what.
This one was longer but it is because I wanted to get Achenar's journal in one chapter. Thank you for reading.