A memory... A memory floated from the Heavens, collecting refuge in the mind of the middle aged man. Vivid colors mixed with the dull canvas that set the stage for the act. With his eyes shut tight, he saw everything so perfectly. The scenes played and danced around in his head. It was from long ago; something he had forgotten all too quickly.
As looming darkness cascaded over the sleepy village hidden in the forest, fireflies began their work; filling open spaces and lighting up between tall Oak trees. The two children stood side by side, fingers interlocked. Light trails of sweat rolled from their dampened foreheads. The summer air, laden with campfire smoke and the scent of melting marshmallows wafted pleasantly around them. A smile rose to the girl's mouth. She tightened her grip on the boy's hand as she watched the show of lights.
Gold and silver illuminated the shadow sweeping over the land. What beauty she saw. Her heart yearned and fluttered, as if in sync with the rising wind; he remembered her saying so. Leaves rustled as the tufts whispered through them; some falling to the ground. Green and vibrant with life, they fell. All the while she watched, analyzed, and captured the sight to memory. A sight she would not soon forget. And the boy, well the boy cast his eyes to something of contrasting interest. His golden flecked orbs rested on the chubbiness of his companion's face; chilled with the forthcoming night. Her rose kissed cheeks stood out in part to her ivory skin.
Her soft, small hand in his comforted him. It had been so long since he'd last grasped it.
"In the summer she would leave again," they told him.
Summer always came too quickly in the place where winter never touched. She was never his to keep, but he wished for her. Everyday he wished for her. On stars and moons; he wished for her. He held a hope that someday she would be his. He held a hope that maybe, just maybe, she would stay for the summer.
"The sun is setting," she spoke suddenly.
The sound of her soft voice startled him the slightest bit. Her baby blues met his eyes. Her smile faded into gentle lines; her lips quivering in the smallest movement. Her dark curls caught the wind and fluttered about. The sun was setting and the summer would soon be here. She knew as well as he that soon, she would disappear. She would never stay, but he could always wish. She spoke the words then, but he could not hear over the fluttering of wings and the chirping of the summer song. He saw the movement of her lips but was so enraptured by her beauty that he could not read them. Then, with a gust of wind and a flurry of flower petals, the girl was no longer visible.
The boy shielded his face from the harsh spewing air, trying his best to keep his eyes open. But in the same moment that they fell shut, the flower petals sprung out in all different directions. In shock he watched, the girl that his heart yearned for was gone. Instead, a small budded light purple flower stood in her place. Summer was here.
A memory, that's all she was now. The girl who made the purple flowers grow was never seen by his eyes again. Her hand was never held by his again, and somewhere along the way, he had stopped wishing for her. To him as he was now, she was all but a fairytale. She was something that his mind had conjured up to save him from his lonely days. That's why she could never stay. That's why nobody spoke of her after that day. She was long gone, dead, just like the flower that stood in her place must've been. He had grown since that time. He had grown strong.
He would never let his fantasies take over his mind again. He had moved far away from the village hidden in the forest, but now, well, now he was returning. Such was the reason the girl with the dark curls filled his mind now. He was returning to the place where she was born, to the place where his mind gave birth to her. It was a sad occasion, too. He was only returning to mourn the death of the village elders son, who was his dear friend. He did not cry though. All of his tears had dried long ago. And as his personal driver pulled to the entrance of the village, the image of tall Oak trees was all too familiar to him.
"This is far enough," he said, giving the man a tap on the shoulder.
His driver looked at him with confusion in his eyes.
"Pardon me?" he inquired.
"As I explained before, strangers with no birth right are unwelcome in my home," the man explained with little patience.
"Yes, of course. I understand, sir," the driver said.
The man then collected his things, which consisted of a single suitcase and a laptop carrier. He began his walk and shortly disappeared beyond the thick forest walls. The driver watched for a few minutes, expecting the crude businessman to return, but when he didn't, the driver turned and left. The man walked down the long dirt path which led to his former home. He kicked up dust with every step, which collected on his black dress shoes and along the bottoms of his business slacks. This annoyed him.
He didn't approve of dirtying himself. He liked the clean city life opposed to this mess he used to call his home. Even the housing was primitive here. Every structured consisted of wood. Yet, he felt a strange nostalgia as he walked through the the gate that read "Tadai Village". Small tea light candles sat about the railings of every porch and sky house balcony. He noticed that three new additions of sky houses were sitting in the trees and four new cabins stood on the ground. He also noticed that a tall gate now separated the village from the outer woods, which was seemingly odd.
As he observed this, he felt a tug on his pant leg. He looked down to see a little child. Her tiny fingers clutching the fabric. She had large, dark green eyes and wispy blonde hair that stuck out in every direction. Her skin was darkly tamed. She wore a very plain, white, nightgown like dress and no shoes. Around her thin wrist a thick, lightweight rope with a carved bear charm hung. He recognized this charm. It was his dear friends. The roped bracelet belonged to his dear friend Arkadios, who was to be put to rest the next day. You see, Tadai Village had an ancient tradition.
After the birth of a child, that child would be given a name depending on the strength of their voice, otherwise known as cry, and the appearance they gave. The given name would almost always be related to nature in some way. After the presenting of the name, a festival would be held in honor of the child's birth. Then, the child would be brought to the elder, who would say a prayer for the child and the child would be given a six year period until the next festival was held. At this second festival, the child would be presented with a specific charm.
This was their blessing charm. This charm represented the prayer uttered for the child during the blessing festival. However, it also represented what the child would struggle with as they grew. Now, during this ceremony, a male is given a bracelet and a female is given an anklet. However, during the instance that the child's parent passes away before their sixth birthday, the child would be presented with that parent's charm, regardless of the child or parent's gender. This was the reason the little girl wore upon her arm Arkadios' charm.
