Heartfelt Sounds (17 page)

I cannot move. I cannot get up as my heart lodges itself in my throat. As my hands turn to fists and I clench my teeth.

“Ari—take my friend home. He's—he's seen a lot today.”

“Sir.”

I'm lifted. I'm taken. I can't move and Tsubame becomes a blur as Hana approaches a red-gold palanquin and vanishes just as I'm being moved inside the castle. Gentle hands guide me as a crowd of people silently part, letting me go. Letting me be moved on. I close my eyes. Move my jaw around to get rid of the tension and open my eyes again. I'm already at Hana's room—being shoved, being pushed inside before the door slams shut behind me. Before I'm alone.

Before Rin approaches me from the far corner of the room.

“You need to forget.” he tells me. Hands clasped behind his back. “The others already have.”

“You killed my friend!” I shout back—the rigidness in my body returning as Rin slowly approaches. As he comes close enough to set his hands upon my shoulders.

“Why can't I make you forget?”

I break free of the stiff feeling in my body. I shrug his hands away. “Hue was my friend!”

Rin's brow furrows. His lips mash together into a straight line. “Your friend? Silly girl. Hue was going to
kill
you. You're lucky you're so special to her. So
important
.”

When I step back, my hands find the door. “Who am I important to? What is a Starling? Why did you have to kill my
friend?”

At this, Rin smiles. The grin meets his eyes as they crinkle at their corners. He respects the space I have created between us and takes a further step back. “He broke a promise. Him, and another who is also gone now.” he laughs then, the sound short and sharp. “As for what a starling is, well it's a bird. A black one.” when he approaches me he nods towards the door and I refuse to move.

“Tell me, Rin. Tell me what you are!”

He chuckles again. Crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “If I cannot make you forget, then maybe—,”

It is a sensation that strikes me like lightening—sudden, intense, and devastating. My eyelids droop. My heart becomes heavy and my breathing slows. My palms hit the floor as I come to my hands and knees and darkness trickles at the corners of my vision. Swirling. Becoming larger and larger until I can barely see my hands. I'm breathing slowly—too slowly—but I'm fighting it. I'm fighting this feeling as I tumble to the floor. As my eyes close—my eyelids gluing themselves together—and my heart all but stops.

“—maybe I can make you sleep.”

…

I wake teetering on the edge of a memory. Laying off the edge of the bed Hana and I share. I roll over and throw myself up. Moving the bed. Making it moan slightly as Hana turns over. She sleeps almost soundlessly on the opposite side. Murmuring to herself. Singing tunelessly.

I stand. My clothes have been changed and I find myself compelled to leave—as if I'm being watched and I need to run.

Where?

I think to go to Hue's hideaway—but then I remember. He's gone. Like so many others—he's gone.

Why does this keep happening?

I think to cry—to let the tears fall, but they do not come. They are replaced with anger—with a relentless hatred of myself.

I lied. That day—I lied to Hue. Because, now, I cannot smile. The Fates have taken too much. Too much from me.

And I have grown tired of death. Sick and tired of it.

I leave the room in a huff, closing the door silently to avoid waking Hana. She would worry. Would tell me to stay here and be angry in the safety of her room—but I cannot. I cannot stay there—not with Rin watching over us. Not with these Starlings creeping about. Not with evil men and shadowy women sleeping in Tsubame. Calling my home their own.

I think to leave. To just walk outside the castle entrance. Who would stop me? Who would remember me if I made it back to Felicity?

Have you thought about how much the city will have changed?

If—if you made it back.

As I walk the halls, I stop. I freeze. The crashing waves upon the walls of the shadowy corridor morph into the feathers of a phoenix as I plant my feet and stare into the darkness before me.

With the Dawnlord occupying the city, things—things will have
changed.

Besides, winter is still strong. Would you make it back in the dead of things if you barely made it here to begin with? During that march?

How much could things have changed? Could winter truly stop me?

And my thoughts flash back to the march. The trampling and the freezing people. Their
screams.

I shake the thoughts away and walk. The corridor forks and I blindly take a right down a different hallway. A hallway I've never walked before as the walls turn plain and white. Candelabras guide my way, firelight flickering as it dances upon the blank walls. It's like this hallway stretches on forever as it reaches into darkness. Into a shapeless, shadowy, void that compels me. That asks me to keep going.

That sings.

“White, blankets the peak of a distant mountaintop…”

I freeze. My eyes widen as my mouth drops open and I stop breathing. I stop to hear the silence and that gentle intake of breath as a voice takes our verse—the verse that belonged to Lore and I—and whispers the song into the darkness. Whispers, stops, and lets the notes be heard.

Before it goes on again. Letting it's rhythms caress me:
“As the snow falls, my sorrow for you crumbles into ashes…”

It inhales beautifully, with a whine. Rhythmic and peaceful.

I inhale, letting my breath be shallow and quiet as it continues—the voice calling me and I walk:
“Can snow grasp how beautiful the fallen flower is?”

The question surrounds me as I keep going—as my pace quickens and there's silence. A short hum, a soft lullaby is whispered and I feel like I should respond as the soft whine of a flute penetrates the darkness and candlelight withers only to be reborn. To burn brighter as I continue up the corridor and darkness disappears. Brightens. The light of the moon pours over all.

I open my mouth. I sing: “Even after love has faded—”

I am cut off as the voice responds. As it finishes my line:

“—
gently, like the wilting of a flower…”

Up ahead, I see a wooden archway cut into a wall. Moonlight pours. I hear crickets. I see stars.

My reply is swift:

“Even after seasons change—,”

“,—and dead leaves pile…”

“Even after my longing for you turns into
tears,”

No response. Silence. I'm nearing the archway now and I know it's Lore. I know Lore's out there and she's calling to me with her voice. Singing to me as I sing back—and we're entranced in a duet. Intoxicated by the beauty of the lyrics as a flute breathes softly, notes wafting upon the night. Riding the clouds. Silencing nature as it calls out to me. As it brings me to her.

“My only purpose is to find you.” I finish. Standing in the archway. Eyes on the clouds. On this night that's suddenly turned starless beneath the light of a ghostly moon. The flute peals in my ears and it's coming from my right. A stone walkway is open to the sky and I walk it. I'm a single floor up—yet, the ground is far. When I look down it makes me dizzy, and I ignore it. I listen for Lore's flute—for Lore's sweet breath and I think—
Hana lied. Lore didn't die in that fire—she's alive and she's here!

She must have come with Lord Hinata.

And I freeze on the stone path.

She must have come with Lord Hinata.

She.

Suddenly, I want to turn back. To step away and run—to go back to the safety of Hana's room and Hana's arms.

But the voice doesn't let me.

“I care not for whether this is right or wrong…”
it sings to me. Calls to me.

But I cannot open my mouth. I don't want to move forward—I want to turn back.

“…For, after a lifetime of love, and a lifetime of sadness…”

A sharp intake of breath makes me jump. My eyes follow the stony path and it makes a hard turn around a dark wall. We are high. High up—and I listen to tapping footsteps. They are slow. In time to the careful beat of the song and I hear her coming closer. I hear her rounding the corner and I take a step back.

A breath. She pauses. The footsteps stop.

I take another step back.

“Naia.”

Lore's voice. It can't be.
Lore's voice.

“Open your mouth.”

I gasp—I can't breathe. There's a stale wind and I choke.

But I open my mouth.

I sing: “After our partings, after our times together…”

And she replies:
“…I grasp that this is what the Fates have scripted for you…”

“And in this life, even though I have regrets—,”

Footsteps tap lightly on the stones of the pathway. She is a ghost draped in black—a wraith. Singing. Calling. A siren that is only able to bewitch my ears, and she's using her power on me. She breathes in—harshly. Sharply. She breathes in—

—and finishes the verse:

“—I will not complain.”

Lore stands before me now. Tall as she ever was. Her face hidden by a heavy black hood. Her body swallowed by a robe of black satin. Her left arm moves. Pockets a bamboo flute and opens its hand to me. Fingers dance. Like the wistful floating of a fan, fingers dance.

“…Lore…” I finally let out. I do not take her hand.

The woman shakes her head. I cannot see her face.

“Please, let me see you. It's—it's been
so long.”

Her fanning fingers descend. They disappear into the large sleeves of her robe. “Before,” she breathes, her body still. “before everything, Naia. Tell me, was I beautiful?”

“Like a goddess.” I murmur back, tears coming. My face dry.

“Then you must be the queen of the gods.”

28. Nightingale

The woman lowers her hood.

Emerald eyes have become pale. Hardened and sunken into a thin face that was once full. That was once as bright as the moon, but has darkened and aged with a weariness that stains her. Makes her older than she actually is and thin lips curl into a smirk. She lets her cloak dangle off of her left shoulder and it falls. Slips to the ground. Slips off the edge of the walkway and onto the far ground below.

It creeps along the ground like a shadow. The cloak disappears into the night.

Lore wears a heavy black gown painted with silver geese that take flight around her midsection. Her left drop sleeve hangs low and trails upon the ground, while her right…

I look to her right arm—where it should be.

“Lore…”

Her face hardens. Anger flashes in her pale green eyes. “I called to you. I sang to you in Felicity—and you let me wait. You let me wait and perish!”

I blink—taken aback. “You never…”

“Don't lie to yourself. Don't lie to
me!”

My eyes find stone. I look to her feet, which have been bandaged in their black slippers. I look to her gown and my eyes gaze into the sky.

And I remember
—my mind blank…Lore's voice ringing in my ears. A whisper that glides upon a soft wind outside…it is like a silent rain…

Shanti's loom room. Me sorting fabrics.
I replied to her verse.

“But I—I thought my mind was playing tricks on me! I didn't actually believe…” I look at her missing arm. The pinned up sleeve. I approach her and she backs away. “…did I do this? Is this…is this
my
fault?”

“The Fates have chosen me.” she says. Lifts her chin slightly. “I have had to make sacrifices.”

“Are you with Lord Hinata?” I try. “Why have you had to…” Thousands of questions burst like bubbles in my mind and I am at a loss for what to say—for what to ask. But, I settle on one thing: “Lore, I've missed you. Missed you
terribly.”

I expect a smile. A twitch of her lips. But I receive nothing. “Althea tried to kill me.” she says instead. Brings her left hand to rest on her right shoulder. “But I survived because the Fates willed it. Because the dark god—,” her mouth opens, but no sound comes. Her eyes widen with a snap before closing. Before opening again and glaring. “—you've heard of me.” she says. “Haven't you?”

Hue comes to mind. His story of Hinata's female agent—the nightingale—but I could never imagine Lore could do something so evil to two brothers. I remember her being kind. I remember her having a big heart and—even when she was having problems with drugs and drink—she still loved. She still loved her sisters.

If someone could love—were they capable of such evils? Of making two siblings fight to the death? Was Lore capable of that?

I look into her eyes now and I do not see that glint. That glint of humility. That glint of happiness and love. Instead, I see a barren landscape. A place devoid of anything.

She has changed.

We all have.

Lore's smile is wide as her lips spread to their breaking point. Her lids lower slightly as she makes no move to speak. As she only accepts the silence and my thoughts.

“You're the nightingale.”

A breath—a snort. She laughs and my tone is dejected—broken because she's had to force the words out of me. She's had to force me to realize that anyone—absolutely
anyone
was capable of evil. Even someone I loved so much. Even Lore.

“Correct.”

I want to hang my head, but I cannot. Lore hovers over me, her aura intimidating and dark. Though I feel broken, I cannot show it. Though I feel dejected and powerless, I cannot let her know that I am. I must hide the fact that what she has become has utterly broken me.

“
How could this happen?”
I blurt. The words coming out like vomit. “Lore—whatever happened to you—how could you become so…” I shake my head, not wanting to judge her. Not wanting to assume, but the word's there. Right on the tip of my tongue. Waiting to roll out.

This grin is tiny. Small. I see a flash of remorse in her pale eyes. “Hana has forgotten you. Tonight, all of Tsubame has. I've been to the west, Naia. I've seen what the world could become, and Hinata and I plan to stop it. We plan to end these ceaseless wars by a single means. A single weapon.” she breathes—I gasp.