Melody of the Fates

Chapter 7.0

The pipes were silent. Sharee hadn't realized how comforting they'd been until they were suddenly and irrevocably muted. Her entire body was numb. She ripped her lenses off, throwing them on the ground in disgust. There was a soft plink as the glass struck a rock, breaking. Sharee didn't care. She didn't want to be associated in any way with the people that had murdered her mother. She'd rather be blind.

Blind she was. Smoke curled around her, almost taunting her as it smoothed out the sharp lines of reality, presuming to soften the jagged edge of loss. She could still hear her brother's anguished scream echoing in her head. There were muffled grunts beside her as he struggled against Bud's strong arms. Did he think he could rush out and take on the entire legion of inked men after her mother had just been silenced so easily? Her invincible mother, the once strong notes of her life cut off so short.

Sharee felt lost. She quietly took out the wooden box from the pouch at her waist, sinking to the ground and cradling the gift in her hands. It still would not open. She doubted it would ever open again.

There was so much she wanted to ask her mother, and yesterday it had seemed like she would have time. If only she had known that their time was limited, what would she have said? Obviously, she wished she could have talked to her mother about being a muse, about other songs, about where she learned them. Yet, she found it wasn't those lost moments that ached the worst. Deep down, it was the questions that only a daughter could ask of a mother that Sharee felt most robbed of. After all, surely there were other sources to learn about Songs. She'd only been given one mother to accompany her as she began her journey into womanhood. There were things she suspected she would want to ask, about life and love, that could never be answered by another. At least, not as a mother might answer. And when she experienced her first kiss or her first heartbreak, there would be no mother with which to share these moments. Being special was one thing, Sharee wasn't sure if she could manage normal. What did being special get her except loss?

Sharee found herself pulled from her dire musings by a strong arm, standing her up again and stepping in. Bud's face swam out of the smoke close by. His breath was cool on her face where it caressed the tears she hadn't realized she'd been shedding. Sharee tried to find his comforting blue eyes, but those blasted spectacles were in the way. Darkness swirled in the lenses, and she saw her own pathetic reflection. There was no sympathy in the murky darkness, only death. Sharee pulled away and wiped the tears off her face.

"Let's go," Bud whispered morosely. "There's nothing more for us here."

"Werim..." she started, looking around her at nothingness.

"I'm here, 'Ree," he muttered gruffly from behind her.

Sharee sniffed once, but nodded, letting Bud lead her through the smoke. She sensed they were going deeper into the village, but she wasn't really sure. To be honest, she had a hard time caring.

Eventually, the bubbling sound of running water alerted her that she was approaching the stream that ran through the center of Kokamongo. The grass and dirt sloped slightly downward as they approached, and Sharee had to slow up a bit to keep her footing. She heard a thump as her brother leaped the small depression ahead of her, and then Bud stopped to guide her forward with a gentle but firm arm. She put one foot down into the cool water, her boot finding the solid river rock bottom. An arm shot out of the smoke ahead of her–her brother's–and hauled her quickly up on the other bank. The stream didn't cut too deeply into the stone, but footing could be treacherous, especially if you couldn't see. She wouldn't be the first villager to slip and break something.

"Wait a second, Bud," Werim whispered fiercely.

"I know, I see them," Bud responded.

"See who?" Sharee asked.