Prophecy

Chapter 7: Eternal Song

 A screech echoed across the lake, too distant to start panicking over. The Songdragons didn't usually surface during the day, so the fishers had nothing to worry about. Still, I could see through our cracked windows a few coming back towards the shore. No one wanted to encounter a Songdragon. Too many legends had been passed down of the mysterious dragon race to not make everyone afraid of them. One legend said they were the whole reason Songdragon Lake had two separate societies that never mixed. Each city didn't dare cross the lake in fear of becoming dinner to the monsters who swam beneath.

     I didn't fear the dragons, but Mother always told me to play along with the popular opinion. She said it would keep me safer in this uncertain realm to be like everyone else. I acted the part, rushing inside when the dragon's call was heard, following the organized curfew to keep people from wandering out during the dragons' hunting sessions, and nodding along when yet another story of an outsider being eaten while they were trying to reach our marvelous land was told in the streets. In reality, I knew the Songdragons wouldn't harm a soul.

    They had teeth as smooth as a pearl, and no claws. Even their scales were not designed to protect. Their only defense mechanism was their voices, lithe figures, and clever ways to communicate. During the night, they flew free into the air, singing of freedom and flight. They would fill our nights with their songs, or their 'howls of doom' as the other villagers said. I would fall asleep to their peaceful lyrics of nature.

     I longed to sing back, but Mother forbade it.

     Mother forbade a lot of things these days.

     I poked my sewing needle through the hem of Father's only apron, securing the fraying ends with the salvaged thread from Mother's other mending projects. The thread snapped when I pulled too hard, causing the loose ends of the apron to somehow fray even more. I sighed, picking up another piece of thread to pull through the needle's eye.

     Now that I thought about it, my restrictions had gotten much worse since the flash in the sky occurred.

     The morning after it had happened Father told me to stay at the house and work on laundry instead of helping catch fish. The next day Mother told me to empty out the rain pails while her, Father, and Liam went to market. Even Brianne got to leave with the rest of the family as they went on with life, but I was required to stay locked away at my house.

     I kept busy, of course, cleaning and organizing and fixing anything possible. The days passed easily, like they had before restrictions had started. But I started to feel a gap. My parents would always glance at each other with each excuse to keep me at home, a nonverbal set of words being passed between them. Sadly for them, I had gained some sort of miraculous language power from that night during the blue moon. I could understand any language spoken and any language not spoken. I knew what their glances meant.