Wattpad Contests 2022

SONG OF THE UNLIT SUN

'KEY TO MAGIC' CONTEST

The present contest is organized by magic !

PROMPT 1

Since childhood you were told to memorize a particular ancient language rhyme. Years later you realize that it was the key to a magical world.

WORD COUNT

1,447 words without the title.

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SONG OF THE UNLIT SUN

Before the light, there was a life. A life carried to my ear by the subtlety of her voice. Her voice; so gentle, feeble, yet composed. A sound that helped my soul unveil the darkness surrounding me. The horizon opened before my eyes. An endless succession of cereal fields embraced the Pacific Ocean down the mountain. My fists unclenched. The view was exquisite. I could feel the wind running through my hair, kissing my neck with its cold lips.

Suddenly, I knew I was dreaming. My grandmother was waiting for me on the other side of a millet crop. She was equal to herself; timeless, the embodiment of compassion, firmly standing on her two feet. Her pupils shone so full of life, it hurt me a little. It reminded me of her absence. I missed her. I missed her so much. I missed her puckish look. I missed her hand caressing my forehead. I missed the honorable stillness she had, when she faced distressful ordeals. I missed her way of loving me; the awkwardness of silence beaten by her sole presence. And, through the loneliness that she had left me, I missed the sweet innocence of an entire childhood shared with her.

I observed the old woman as I walked toward her. She was smiling and rounding her mouth to articulate words I couldn't understand. Her gaze was fixed and unwavering, as if she wasn't really looking at me. Her face was mirroring an oddity: I was the one absent. And, maybe it was true. Because she had never felt more alive than when chanting the same verses, over and over again. And I had never been more self-effacing.

takitapuɭaw takituɭuɖaw
tumatənabaw tumatənəkin

My heart skipped a beat. A second voice had joined her in reciting a peculiar rhyme. A child's voice. My voice from a long-gone past. A smaller version of myself was joining hands with my grandmother. Her black irises were riveted to the seven-year-old Gabrielle, who was taking great pleasure in imitating her.

takitapuɭaw takituɭuɖaw
tumatənabaw tumatənəkin

Shivers ran down my spine. A strong feeling of déjà vu wouldn't leave my guts. It was eerie. The language, after many repetitions, started to feel familiar again.

"Wonderful, Gabrielle!" The white-haired woman exclaimed. "We will try again tomorrow."

"Try what?" My seven-year-old self and I asked at the same time.

"You mustn't forget the words of Old Puyuma, the chant of our ancestors. Do you understand me?"

"Why?" I asked again, confused.

"In time, you'll know, darling." My grandmother replied.

There was a thin line between dreams and memories. And I couldn't tell on which side of the fence I was anymore. Contours had blurred. Was it a memory within a dream? Or had I reshaped a memory to fill in the missing details? The older I grew, the more dazed my childhood got. But something struck me. Behind my grandmother, the sun seemed to have darkened.