Canary sat under a tree to shelter from the rain. The humid forest was cold and the wind wetted her with rain droplets. Her body wasn't shivering even though she was chilled to her bones. But maybe she was shivering and didn't notice.
She should wander deeper into the forest to find the compound she dreamt about. At least to reunite with her grandmother and be sheltered in a warm place to hide from the rain. Yet, she wanted to keep her eyes on the lake where Sebastian's body must be.
The surface was larger than she thought and the scape was mountainous on one side, where the heavy rain mixed with hanging waterfalls. She might think the place was at sea level if she didn't know she was on top of the cliff.
Looking at the expense of water, she wondered if she would ever find her companion's remnants. She could see through the water while swimming up the lake and might see him floating once the sky cleared.
She had no idea of what she would do when she found him. Burrying his body was the logical course of action but she didn't have a single tool to proceed. She could at least warp him in palm leaves if she found some.
The rain stopped pouring as she thought. It was still cold and humid in the forest but warm sun rays bathed Canary when she stepped on the shore. The water was still troubled and she couldn't see any form floating.
She remained unmoving until she sensed people coming from the forest. A few men carrying a bark emerged in her sight and addressed her in a language she didn't understand. They didn't seem harmful and even looked concerned.
One of them dashed out of sight, probably to call more people from the compound. The two others marched to the shore and sailed towards the creeks with fishing nets on board. She watched them set up their traps and wondered if Sebastian's corpse would end there among fishes.
They looked at her with insistence while waiting for unaware sea life to fill their nets. She felt out of place in the scenery and moved to sit on the dry shore. More people would surely arrive with the one who left earlier.
She wondered if her Grandmother would be among them. The latter must know she swam up the cliff. She should at least suspect she was the young woman by the lake who didn't speak the language around.
Things would be awkward for Canary if they couldn't verbally communicate. She hadn't seen her family in more than a decade. She still didn't remember how she entered the Zoldyck's estate. She didn't even remember her name.
Thinking about her unknown name made her thoughts drift back to Sebastian. He was sure she would remember herself in time. She didn't know the time he was referring to. And now, she would never know what he had in mind. And he would never know her name.
She would never hear him call her name in her ears, with his arms around her. His voice was drowned in the lake and so was his touch. All that was left was the phantom feeling of his heat as they spooned at night in the lifeboat and memories of the dreamy fever they experienced under the setting sun inside the cruise ship.
Suddenly, she felt tears swell in her eyes. She was finally processing Sebastian's passing. She took a deep breath and blinked to let the sadness roll down her face. Her heart felt tight as she took in more deep breaths.
She bit her lip to prevent herself from voicing her sorrow. There was no stopping once she let her sobs out. They would keep pushing from her chest in waves and she wasn't ready for that, especially not in front of bystanders.
Canary felt people marching towards her. Mechanically, she stood up and tidied herself before wiping her tears away. She couldn't fool anyone but wanted to show as little as possible. She took a quick breath and resolutely turned around at the last second.
The marching group stood a couple of metres away. There were a dozen people. Half of them were women of varying ages. From one glance, she knew her Grandmother wasn't among them. Looking at them one by one, a middle-aged woman held her eyes.
The woman's eyes trembled with recognition and she slowly walked towards Canary. She called her with a soft voice that searched for validation and was afraid of being wrong. The woman reached Canary's level and her shaking hands held her face.
Again, she called her using that unknown name. They looked alike up close, with tears shining in their eyes. The young woman voiced a feeble sound. But that seemed enough for the older woman who held her in her arms.
Canary was shell-shocked at the touch even if it felt just right. The touch was too much to process while her emotions were still overflowing. She could feel herself crumble and her sight darkened. Then she lost her balance and the clear sky came into her view before darkness overtook her.
She opened her eyes in the lifeboat with Sebastian spooning her. His warmth felt too real for it to be a dream and she supposed she nearly drowned during the swim up the cliff. He must have rescued her and brought her back to their safe place.
He must have sensed she was awake and held her tighter, hooking his arms around her. He then breathed behind her ear and whispered the name of her dream in her ears. Mussodji. Hearing that name in his voice felt like thunder and lightning.
She turned to face him with a stupor in her eyes. She searched into his knowing eyes before asking how he knew that name. He only gave her the same crooked smile he did before claiming her. Then, he caressed her face and leaned in for a kiss.
Canary was perplexed as Sebastian never left her hanging without a response. He would have at least given her a clue or reassured her things were as they should be. Still, she let him weight her down.
With a blink of her eyes, she woke up lying on a floor bed inside a closed room. The woman who called her was sitting on a mat by the door. The latter straightened her posture when she noticed Canary was awake.
The woman called her fondly and moved towards a pot sitting on dying embers. She opened the pot, and the sweet smell of grilled grains and garlic filled the air. She suddenly felt hungry, but the awkwardness still hung heavy on her.
Also, hearing what must be her real name made her think about the dream she woke up from. She then realised it was the first time she dreamt of Sebastian. It had felt as real as the dreams she had about her Grandmother.
Thinking about her Grandmother, she sat straighter on the bed and the woman took it as a cue to approach her with a bowl containing something akin to garlic bread bites. The pieces looked appetising and she felt nostalgic.
She reasoned that if she was truly in her home, the meal must be something she used to enjoy. The joyous gleam inside the woman's eyes confirmed the older one expected Canary to love what she served.
Receiving the gift, the younger woman thanked the one who must be her mother. They hadn't talked yet. And all the evidence she had was their shared looks and the happiness she saw in the older's eyes. But she felt safe, wanted and loved.
It wasn't the same safety she used to feel in the employee's compound after her shift, or the same she felt with Sebastian in the lifeboat. It wasn't the burning want she felt underneath her former companion and she was cautious to label what they shared as love.
What she currently felt from that woman was a soul-warming affection she couldn't remember ever experiencing. It single-handedly soothed her nerves and she swiftly fell asleep again after emptying the bowl.
The language barrier prevented Canary from communicating with her newly found family. She answered to her real name and understood greetings and simple requests. Yet, she couldn't voice her thoughts and Mussodji didn't feel like her for the first month.
She spent her days with her mother and only encountered her father during dinner. Her three older brothers were already out of the home but hovered around when they could. The men let her mother monitor her insertion into the community while remaining at arm's length.
Starting over from an infantilised position was hard on her. From sleeping with her mother to always having someone around her, she didn't have any privacy and lost her autonomy. Her mother insisted on bathing her the first day and used the opportunity to inspect her body.
They couldn't communicate at all at the time and the young woman felt somewhat shameful when the older one cleaned her intimacy. She didn't have the words to tell her mother not to feel sorry when the latter understood she had already been with a man.
She could tell her mother felt guilty and assumed the worst. Therefore, she let the teary-eyed woman gently caress her side while whispering words of reassurance. She guessed it was something they should talk about once she could express her thoughts.
For now, she was glad her mother left her alone in the bathroom and gave her as much privacy as possible after that first try. The community's women often relaxed together in a steamy room but her mother never took her there.
Canary also experienced deception that her grandmother wasn't around. The woman she saw in her dreams passed away a few years ago. She still saw her during her nightly visions, in the same little house that didn't stand anymore. They still couldn't communicate but she could at least greet the woman.
She didn't have details on her passing but her mother showed the family remnants closet. Each pot had a face sculpted on it. She recognised her grandmother and the grieving look on her mother's face cleared any doubts.
The latter spoke about the elderly woman as a mother in a speech Canary understood next to nothing. With words out of her reach, the younger one only had her touch and hugged her mother to express her condolences.
Having been raised uptightly, she never understood the might of the touch. She thought what she experienced with Sebastian was special. And it was to a certain extent. But there was much more to the touch than expressing want.
Her family revelled under her hands. She could procure contentment and bring joy by helping her mother in the kitchen, accomplishing menial tasks or massaging her parents' feet. It wasn't a wonder she picked on words of appreciation right after mastering greetings.
She also dreamed of Sebastian and sometimes gave him some massages she learned. Other times, he would appease her fever the week before her periods. Their moments together and her subsequent relief felt so tangible she sometimes doubted anything was real.
She might be in a never-ending dream or even in her afterlife. If that were so, she would have enjoyed some control. That way, she could meet her grandmother during the day. And spend all of her nights alone with Sebastian.
Waking up next to her mother felt weird after she dreamt of him. She guessed it was better than waking up swollen beside the older woman. She wasn't sure how her mother would perceive this side of her, especially with the idea she made up of what her experience had been.
By the end of the second month inside the community, Canary was fluent enough to ask and answer mundane questions. Her mother let the young women and late teen girls include her in communal activities like weaving fishing nets and wicker ornaments.
She never experienced camaraderie until then. The activities were more entertaining than competitive and most importantly, her spot wasn't on the line. Her peers marvelled at her dexterity and appreciated her attention to detail.
Her days were now packed with house chores or tending to the vegetable garden in the morning and then communal activities in the afternoon. Once a week, an elderly person would tell a story beside a huge fire camp, with music and impersonations.
The tellers were skilled with their voices and expertly switched between characters and the narration. Some stories were satires, others were whimsical. They were paced with a tom-tom or a harp that calibrated the mood and the rendering was always captivating.
Her family confessed her grandmother used to be a teller. Whimsical was her preferred genre and she mostly used a harp. Her instrument was kept in the teller's compound with the tools of the ones who passed away without gifting their basket.
Tellers handpicked kids with outstanding memories and taught them music and narration early on. The training ended before the kids even reached puberty. At that point, they experimented by themselves under their mentor's scrutiny.
Taking the information, she asked her grandmother to play when she dreamt of her. The elderly woman was delighted by the request. She played once and showed her how to use the harp. Over multiple nights, the young woman grew familiar with the notes.
As the weeks went on, she learnt to visualise where to stroke the chords to replicate the music she heard. Her nightly lessons drained some of her energy for the day but the strain lessened once she mastered playing the harp, at least in her dreams.
She had yet to try a real one. Not doubting anything, she asked her mother if she could try her grandmother's instrument. The request surprised the woman who was unsure if the feat was possible.
Still, she wanted to content her daughter and discussed taking her to the tellers' compound with her father. They agreed it was worth trying and proceeded a few days later. The couple arranged a late afternoon audition with the current head teller.
The sun was setting when the trio sat in front of the eldest of the tellers in the compound's inner court. A few trainees hovered around and peered through the building's windows. The audition wasn't meant to be secret, but the young woman would have enjoyed some privacy.
The head teller asked her to try on a training harp first. On instinct, she chose to play her grandmother's favourite song from her memories. She felt a fuzzy cover around her body as if the elderly woman was there and holding onto her.
After her performance, she looked up from the harp. Her parents were emotional and the head teller was satisfied. The latter asked how she learnt that melody and if she could sing it. The young woman revealed she learnt with her grandmother but didn't know how to sing.
The head teller then asked for the harp and played a piece, the tale of the flamboyant mute bird. It was the story of a young boy who received a baby bird, with bright colours, as a gift from a friend. The boy knew his parents wouldn't let him keep the baby bird but no one else could take care of it.
Feeling brave, the boy kept the baby bird in his bedroom and bandaged its beak to prevent it from singing. With time, the baby bird grew used to the silence and forgot the sound of its voice. Believing it was mute, the flamboyant bird never attempted to sing and attract his kind that flew high in the sky. Instead, it remained forever in the boy's closet among other possessions.
The young woman understood she was the caged bird. She wasn't kept in a closet but was deprived of human interactions inside the assassin's household. She didn't forget her voice but forgot her identity. She vaguely wondered who the boy was but quickly dismissed the thought.
Even if her mind conjured the face of the house's grandfather, there was no point in finding who was who. Her story might not even perfectly fit the tale. All that mattered was the essence. She was rescued from the closet and in a place where she could discover herself.
Since she was silent, the head teller told her she could come the next day and learn how to sing tales again, especially her grandmother's favourite. There was a lot she had to learn again about herself, and much more she had to discover.
On the way home, her mind spiralled with questions. She scarcely received information and most of her questions were left unanswered. She didn't know how she parted from her family, didn't know her history and was now wondering who she was set to become had she stayed within her community.
Thinking about the last months, she didn't know what was happening with the settling expeditions on the island. She still wondered how Sebastian knew this much about her and next to anything going on.
Despite their nightly encounters in her dreams, he hardly talked to her beyond calling her name and praising her singing during her fever episodes. She wondered if he also knew she used to learn how to sing with her grandmother before forgetting herself.
And her grandmother. She wondered why the elderly woman hardly talked to her. There was so much the latter could tell her. The weight of the mystery plagued her mind when she fell into bed that night. She was anxious about who she would meet tonight but ended up spending her slumber alone, deep in tranquil waters.