Monster

Overture

Neysa slogged through the mud on the hill, her breath panting out in white clouds. She had already fallen twice and her heavy cloak was streaked brown and sharp with brambles. She wanted to watch the sun rise, hoping for a revival of peace. She had always loved the early morning, ever since she was a toddler and her mother had taken her out every morning, sitting them down on the porch facing east. There had been a song that her mother used hummed while they waited as well, but its melody stayed elusive.

She finally crested the treacherous slope and faced the horizon, watching the bright stars fade into the creeping light. From somewhere far off in the direction of the thick forest came a chorus of howls, low and mournful. It sounded like a lamentation. One voice rose above the others, completely filled- no, overflowing with pain it could not contain. It faded out and then rose again like a lonely singer singing a requiem to end an aria.

Something wet ran down Neysa's cheek, and she was bewildered to find herself crying. Yet she couldn't stop; swiping her eyes and staring blearily at the glowing arch rising above the horizon as the song rose and fell around her. Finally she lifted her own face and sang, not the grieving howl of the wolves, but the song of her mother she finally remembered the words to.

"The world wakes,

and life begins again.

All the sorrows of the night,

shall be no more.

Live the day anew,

through sun and rain,

grief and pain.

Live for the day,

don't give into the night."

It was a short lullaby meant to keep her from nightmares as a child, but at this moment, it seemed like so much more. Her low voice carried on the wind of the world, and for a moment, the wailing wolf hushed, and then barked once before all was still.

The silvery glow of first dawn brightened into a pale gold and the sky tuned pink and lavender and a deep navy blue where it sat untouched by its light. She kept her eyes on it, squinting slightly as it took on its blinding brightness. Below her, the muddy slope had a line of fading shadows creeping up to where she was. Only two meters, then a yard, and then the sunlight was on her muddy toes, warming them almost immediately. The heat suffused her, rising through her body like lapping waves, and for just a moment she allowed herself to wonder if her father was right, if her mother had been a witch and her daughter possessed the  power of drinking in the sun like some alien tree.

Neysa snorted with amusement, she was too old for such silly thoughts. She let her eyes open again as the initial rush of heat faded, leaving behind a familiar soft prickling sensation along her arms and scalp.

"Neysa!" The call was distant, but even from where she was she could hear the impatience within it. Eleni and Ahsa's mother, her father's first wife. Neysa grimaced and made her sliding, skidding way back off of the hill as she hurried home.

Mehmet was always so impatient to have work done, but her temper was always dolloped on Neysa. Did she sill hold a grudge that Maman had borne a child before she, the wife of six years to Maman's two? She tromped back in the direction of the village in the valley below, moving quickly before her masam became too irritable. How she had borne such sweet, quiet children like Eleni and Ahsa was beyond her.

The small girl scarcely noticed the sound of the wolves rising up again, the last wolf missing from their haunting choir.