The Chronicles of Protan (Book 1): The Shadowed Man

Chapter 31

“What is the song that you teach them? It brings forth many emotions from within. An unwanted darkness, yet a soothing state of calm. It is very confusing.”

“Oh, it’s from the musician Enya. The song is called Boadicea.”

“Why the song?”

“Music is more than just sounds and melody,” she begun, speaking as one would with the passion of what they love. “It is a language that is spoken in every heart and soul. Music can make or break one’s very spirit. That very language speaks to us in different forms, and as we all may appreciate it, we don’t necessarily speak or understand it universally. Music speaks to us differently, and some of us hear different patterns in melodies that brings forth that very emotion you speak of. For example,” and she pointed toward the girls who had now successfully replanted the tree, “this song stirs little Maya, reminding her of the accident that turned her into what she is today. But her friend Monica,” she pointed to the other, “who has a significantly beautiful voice, calms her with that very melody, and once the two gain the equilibrium, they perform wonders together.”

Protan looked even closer, and noticed a scar behind Maya’s right ear that ran along the hair line down toward her neck. Looking to Monica, she seemed far more distant, yet appeared to have no physical scarring. Additionally, her neck and hands twitched involuntarily and intermittently. “They all suffer from illness?”

Anna-Lee nodded solemnly, “Monica is autistic, and Maya is a victim of domestic violence. Her father saw her use her abilities for the first time, and in reflex to his terror, he swung his iron hammer to head. She’s been brain damaged ever since. Yet remarkably, her ability remained.”

As she spoke, Protan’s eyes surveyed the rest of the individuals that went about their duties, and found the subtlety of each one’s behavior far noticeable once she explained. From an uncontrollable twitch, to a vacant stare, and to involuntary convulsions and spasms; each were unique from each other, yet the collective comprehension of each was far more a mystery to Protan than the mere fact that they were still able to perform such complex tasks while so mentally damaged.

“You still seem confused,” Anna-Lee said slowly.

Protan hesitated, formulating the words in his mind, “I feel strange, as if they are unaware of what it is that they are doing. With such little awareness, what could stop them from being controlled?”

“Ah, you think that we’re exploiting them,” she responded in without a hint of being insulted by the insinuation. Protan merely turned his head to her, still thoughtful, yet nodding lightly. She smiled as she turned her head back to the girls who had made their way to a pile of rock that laid scattered closer to the cave itself. “Many believe that it’s the case too. But when you see the look on their faces,” she pointed at the girls who began to smile as they watched a dragonfly drift amid their heads, “it’s hard to argue when they feel so free and become so elated with joy when something is accomplished.” The girls raised a hand each as the dragonfly passed amid the outstretched limbs, and their pure amazement at how the insect flew almost playfully amid them settled deep into Protan’s heart. It was difficult to understand what it was, whether it was a genuine heartwarming sensation of their innocent joviality, or if it was empathy that caused him to feel a possible sensation of guilt, that they may never have anything that most would come to understand as the norm. Protan felt a smile creep across his lips, and kept it without a thought of letting it go for a good while.

“Wow man, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Protan turned , his smile growing wider to the sound of the most familiar voice he had come to know of late. Thoughtless came bounding over in high spirits, as if coming over to deliver important, exciting news.