The heavy thud of a splash rings in my ears, muffled and distant. It's the sound you hear when something, or someone plunges into a river.
Then I hear him again. Edad. Begging and pleading.
"Chief? Chief, please..."
His voice doesn't just reach out anymore; it takes root in the center of Abel's mind, and keeps echoing until I can't tell if he's shouting or if I'm simply just remembering the sound of his grief.
"Fight it." He say. "Whatever it is, it's not real. You did it before... do it again."
Fight? When has Abel ever fought in his sleep?
And fight what?
And how? How can this body fight at all if it won't even move?
And me?
Ever since Abel closed his eyes and spread out his arms to let the fire and smoke of the burning hut devour him, his eyes never opened again. Even when Edad's voice started to swim across his ears later. Even after it almost felt as if Edad was right there, crouched at Abel's side.
Even still...
So how?
How can one fight when there's nothing there to see. When he can't even see or move. When all he can do is feel the cold chill of a midnight air on his face. The rustling of leafs and the gentle whistling of the wind.
And that quiet, unmistakable crystalline sound of a single droplet falling into a still water.
A single drop of rain?
A single drop of tears?
Whatever it is, I hear it, loud and clear as if it's happening right beside me.
"Chief! Please!" Edad's voice shifts from a quiet beacon to that of pure panic. "If you don't open your eyes now, they will stay closed forever!"
Forever?
Anxiety claw at my inside, gruesomely. Not the inside of this body – no. This body could be dead and it's just me who still hears Edad's pleas. Or perhaps I'm mistaken; Abel could still be alive. But not for long. I can feel it. Abel is slowly slipping away.
If this is the part where Abel loses consciousness and dies, it means this is where his story ends, and I can finally go back home – finally.
But it's not the end.
"Chief."
Edad's voice slowly descends into that of defeat, but still, it doesn't move. It doesn't even twitch. Abel remains dead to the bone. Well, not until he hear Edad's last and final words.
"Brother?" he growls. "you're not dead. You're just... sleeping. And just like before, you're forgetting to wake up. You're not dead yet – not to me."
And just like that, everything rushes back to me; Abel's thoughts. Feelings. Intentions. His senses. His worries. His fear.
It's as if... his near death somehow made his mind to dominate mine. Now I do not know where I end and where Abel begins. I do not know if this anger, and the disappointment I feel is his or mine.
I want to go home. I want to die. I have to die. I should've never come back.
Are these Abel's thoughts... or are they mine?
My eyes flutter under my lashes. I can feel the sudden tension in my brows.
I imagine my eyes tearing open almost instantly, but they don't.
After they flutter, they wait. And then finally, slowly, they open.
As my vision sharpens, the first thing I see is not the thatched roofs of the huts. It is the vast night sky. I remember sitting before the dais with my legs crossed, but not anymore. I'm not sitting anymore, I'm laid... on my back.
I see a river.
It's very huge, and it surrounds me. It's like... I'm in the middle of it.
"Chief?"
The voice I hear is real this time; It's wet, It's rough, It doesn't just vibrate inside this head; it hits the wall of Abel's soul.
And I answer, as though I'm speaking to the night. "Edad."
His name is all I can manage. Unfortunately, Abel's vocal cords – in fact, everything in this body are stiff. Unused, as if they've been dormant for years.
I turn my head slightly, even though it screams in protest, wanting to catch Edad's gaze. But instead, I catch something else; like how Edad's shoulders is buried deep in the water with only his head floating in the surface.
I see his knuckles pegged on my... boat. He looks quite older than he did few hours ago. As my gaze finds his, he then gives a small, broken smile that is quickly drowned by tears he can no longer hold back.
I swallow hard, attempting to use my words again. "E– Edad." I gruff.
"Yes, chief," he nods gently, and as he speaks, his chin brushes against the surface of the water. "I'm here."
Before I can muster anything, his gaze drift away and pause. I follow his line of sight until my eyes meets the shadowy figures standing at the shore with torches raised above their heads
A small smile forms in my lips, relief maybe. But it quickly washes away as the scene before me comes into focus:
Crowd.
Torches.
I'm... floating on a boat.
When an important person dies, they place the body on a boat and let it drift into the current. Then, they'd send a flaming arrow to light the pyre and guide the spirit home.
I look down at myself; I'm lying on a bed of dry reeds and white lilies. My arms are gracefully folded above my chest and Edad... well Edad is simply being Edad.
My head fall back on the boat and a labored laugh erupt from my chest. "I knew something was off with that dream." I gruff again.
Edad let out a sigh of relief. "Chief, seriously... you have to stop doing this. What if you don't get lucky next time?"
I laugh again at the word 'lucky' like it's funny. And then my mood turns sour. "Edad, I specifically warned you: if you're going to decorate my casket, 'do not use lilies' it makes me itch everywhere!"
"But... how is that supposed to matter when you're dead?"
"Well, Edad..." I grab the both sides of my boat and drags myself up into a sit. Then I stretch, bones popping and snapping like twigs. "Do I look dead to you?"
He lower his head. "No?"
I lean in. "So you see, it matters. And I feel itchy now, thanks to you." I lean away, and then make sure to scratch every part of me that itch.
"Sorry... I was only following orders."
"Whose orders?"
"Cain's?"
A sudden whistle cuts through the air. Our heads swiftly turns towards the shore to meet the crowd still standing. Still waiting. But then, slowly, they make way and a figure emerge with a bow in his hand.
He light up the tip of the arrow. Drags on the bow strings with a practiced tension. Aim at me.
Another piercing whistle. He releases the arrow.
As the arrow leaves the bow, a weight settles in my gut. Not fear. I know fear.
Fear is; watching the woman I love burn while I watch, learning that she died while I slept or maybe looking death straight in the eye with hopes for a swift end only to be disappointed.
What I feel now, is something else. It's like a presence. Familiar, like recognizing a footstep before seeing who it belongs to.
The weight sinks in deeper, taking full control of my limbs before I can even protest –
I catch the arrow inches from my face, and slowly lower it down, fixing my gaze – not on the arrow in my hand – but the one who shot it.
A man with a height that commands fear. A shoulder that could carry the weight of the world. Ember eyes that could roll away stones.
A lazy smile creeps up my lips. I could say I'm fascinated at his attempt but then, I'm also quietly disappointed.
"I really wished you were competent enough to actually finish this." I mumble, now looking down at my palm.
A sigh rattles in my lungs as the flames simply... gutters out like a spent candle, leaving my palm blistered yet painless. I don't even have the energy to be surprised.
What does surprise me is realizing Cain would gladly embrace a moment like this if it meant ending my life.
"Chief!" Edad gasp sharply. He grabs my left hand and plunge it into the river.
It usually stings when a burn comes in contact with water, but mine doesn't. It's almost like my pain isn't mine to feel.
I chuckle instead of wincing. "It's too late for that."
He scoops out my hand, study the burn and dips it into the river again.
I chuckle again, feeling a tickle this time. "What would I do without you?" I say to myself.
Edad pauses, then look up. "Chief."
"The damage has been done, Edad." I raise my blistered hand to my face. "You just couldn't see it until now." I glance at him and smile. But Edad doesn't return it. In fact, my smile terrifies him. It unsettles him. Usually this would bother me, but... now it doesn't.
"Chief?"
"Prepare..." I groan, plunging my feet into the icy river, preparing to dive. "We leave for Sands tonight."
Edad nod once. "Chief."
I look at him for a second. "Thank you."
He tilts, brows creasing. "For what?"
My lips curl into a tiny smirk. "You'll see."
Before diving, my gaze drifts again toward the shore, and I let out a breath that almost passes for a laugh. Cain and others still stands there, waiting for me. "Trying to get rid of me with an arrow? No...." I murmur, my words dripping with venom. "I'm going to get you a real weapon. Dear... brother."
««^»»
As I wade ashore, I'm greeted by a guard at the river bank, his head down, shoulders tense. In his trembling hand, is a neatly folded tunic. As I slip past him and other two waiting guards, he rushes after me to drape them over my dripping, naked frame while I keep my eyes locked on the figure at the center of the crowd.
"Brother...?" Cain says, almost unsure. Like testing waters before diving.
Without a word, I simply close the distance and wrap my arms around him.
He stiffens, his entire body turning to stone as I pull him into a firm... brotherly hug.
Then let out a long, theatrical breath against his neck. "Brother... I could kill for some of your finest pork porridge right now."
"Unbelievable..." He wrench himself free from me.
"Ow...." I quickly steady myself, then bends backward to stretch. I hear a sharp pop from somewhere, and it made the crowd whisper to one another. "Or perhaps... a massage?" I add, and this gets on Cain's last nerve.
"You think this is a joke!" He strikes, the bow in his hand creaks as his grip tightens around it.
I pout my lips. "Well, that's not fair, brother. You always yell at me; when I do something wrong – you yell. And when I don't do anything at all – you also yell. I mean, I just survived a near kill and here you are, yelling at me for merely dodging an arrow –"
"You wouldn't be dodging anything – if you could just do normal things like every normal person in this town!" He runs a hand through his hair. "Seriously brother, this is starting to get really exhausting. What if you aren't so lucky next time."
My head drops downward as I mumble. "There won't be a next time, brother."
He grabs my shoulder tightly, pulling me back and forth. "Oh, forgive me then, because I thought last time was the last time!" He exhales sharply. "I thought you couldn't go beyond forty two days of sleep without waking up. I thought – I thought you'd wake up after fifty or fifty-five days but you didn't. You just laid there... twitching. Whimpering. On the sixty-eighth day, you stopped moving at all – you stopped breathing. And that's why we decided that it was time that we bury you."
I look up slowly, then at the people, then back to Cain.
"You were dead, brother. In my dream." I mutter, my voice low like that of a terrified little kid.
Cain recoils, almost losing his grip on the bow. "In...your dream?" He repeats slowly.
I nod, my gaze fixed on a distant point behind his waist. "I opened my eyes and I couldn't find you. I learnt from Isha that you had died... at Sands." I look up, eyes burning. "I don't know what these dreams are – or what they means, but whenever I have them, it keeps me from waking up." I turn to the crowd. "And the worse part... the witch keeps reappearing to me in these dreams; sometimes, she'd appear as a begger, and other times, as a friend. But no matter how hard I try to avoid our path from crossing, she'll always... always, try to trap me."
The village gasp, then murmur. I turn to Cain and immediately catch his gaze.
"What then happened?" He asks, puzzled.
"What always happens... either she catches and imprison me – and that usually prolongs the dream. Or she tries to bend me to her will – trying to make me turn against my people. Against you, brother."
"And you just let her do that to you. I thought you learned when I trained you to fight?"
"But in this dream there is no weapon, brother; no knives or arrows, or axes. It was just me, the witch, and a village that almost looks like home, but not home. My people, but not my people."
Cain crosses his arms. Processing. Calculating. "So how did you break free? How did you find your path?"
I raise a single finger. "One word," I say, and then points to the man standing in the shallow. "Him."
The village gasp and murmur again.
Cain scoff. "Edad?" He asks, jabbing a hand at him.
"Don't be surprised, brother. Trust me, I'm surprised myself. But it's always him. His voice was all I heard and keep hearing. His voice was the only thing off in those dreams."
"Edad?" Cain repeats, his disbelief is thick enough to choke on.
"Tell me you don't see her in your dreams, brother. Tell me you don't feel her presence when you close your eyes to sleep at night." I close the distance again in two strides. "We need to kill her... and we need to do it fast."
Cain looks on, and now, Cain's eyes softens and then he smiles. "That won't be necessary."
I tilt my head. "Why? Don't tell me you've changed your mind."
"God, no. My sacrifice at the alter may not have been accepted in heaven... but at least I ended the witch beautifully." He chuckles and it quickly turns into a laugh.
I mimic him, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. "Oh no! I should've been there – to see the look on her face as you drive the dagger through her wicked heart!"
Cain laughs harder. "Your loss, brother. None of you were there; not you, not Edad... not Luther." He sighs sharply. "Ahh... how I wish Luther was there to see. I can almost say I did it all for him."
I drop a hand on his shoulder, giving it a... light squeeze and that makes him wince a little. "Well... did you at least make her suffer?"
"Ahhh, brother." He slip his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to walk with him. "You should've been there... you should've seen how she screamed and cried. But what baffles me is that... she didn't even fight it. After spilling her blood on the alter, I waited for the heaven's light to shine on her, but it didn't. Turns out, she's wasn't even a sacrifice material, brother. Guess what I did next?" He asks, pulling my head in.
I pinch my chin. "Mmmm, you beat her to death?"
"No..." that's too childish.
"Mmmm, you drove daggers into her many times?"
"No. I –"
"Removed her from the alter. Took out your knife, cut her behind her ear just so she can bring out her fangs. Picked up a rock from the alter and then slammed it against them."
Cain stops on his tracks abruptly. I don't, instead I continue.
"You were simply taking back what killed my best friend." I stop now, then slowly turn around to meet his gaze. There's this... pressure that grows on his forehead when something confuses him so hard. It makes his brows drop so low to the point it almost covers his eyes. "Next, you stacked up her throat with sand and blood... and left your dagger in her stomach and then you left her for the birds." I smile, but Cain doesn't.
Cain has that look now, the one Edad had earlier when I smiled at him. But only this time, Cain didn't let it linger too long for me to notice.
"How... how did you know?" He asks.
I walk to him and gently pull him forward to keep the pace. "Easy... I'd do the same. But, I'd do more than just drive a rock into her fangs or leaving her to the birds." My lips stretch wider. "I would chop off her head... and then bring it home. Our people have suffered, brother. They need their reassurance that the evil that once plaques them is no more."
Cain's shoulders sinks low as he let out a sigh of disappointment. "I... I never thought of that. I was overcome by anger and justice I didn't even – I didn't even remember my people when I had the chance right in front of me."
I give him another light squeeze on the shoulder. "It's alright, brother. The witch is gone." I meet his gaze. "Your promise to my people – and our late mother has been fulfilled."
"Yes, I did." He buries his face in his hands and let out a quiet sob. "I did it."
"And you did it without losing your brother." I add.
He nods like a child promised a candy. This is unlike him. Usually, to make Cain cry, you must drink the ocean dry. But tonight Cain isn't 'the Cain'. Tonight, he's... like a bread dipped in the ocean.
"I'm sorry, brother. I really didn't mean to – you wouldn't wake up – you slept too long – I thought – I thought I was doing the right thing – I'm sorry –"
"Shhhh....shhhh... that's O.K... you didn't lose me, brother... I'm glad I woke up sooner. Unfortunately, you have me to always get on your nerve. And I won't be going anywhere." I pat on his back once more, and then whistle to one of the guards in front. "Take my brother to his hut. Make sure he gets his rest."
He dips his head, and then takes Cain away while I retreats to my chambers. Edad follows closely but at some point disappears into the shadows.
I reach my entrance and stops abruptly, looking over my shoulder but my gaze fixed on nothing. "Don't make me wait for you," I mutter with a voice stripped away of any sort of pretense. "You wouldn't want me to leave you behind." I turn away and disappear inside my hut.
«««^»»»
I sit on my mat, my legs crossed. My hand rests heavily against my chest, right where my heart usually hammers a frantic double-time rhythm against my ribs.
Except this time... it's slow. Faint. I can almost not feel it. I can almost not feel her.
"Hold on," I whisper into the quiet of the hut. "I'm coming. But first, you need strength." I lower my hand slowly. "It didn't feel like a dream... I was almost happy to see you draped in those finest clothes. You looked beautiful in them. But they weren't real. They were just things I'd give my soul to see you wear. And even in the dream... you were still scared to be happy. To be comfortable. To be with me. To have me. Even in the dream... you still wish to die." I reach up to wipe a single tear off my cheek. "Forgive me; I left you first. I gave up too soon - I wasn't strong enough - I'm sorry. But this is reality... please don't push me away again. Let me a least be there with you when you leave."
I close my eyes and lean into the tether, whispering. "Please hold on."
The sound of soft, shuffling footsteps breaks out at the entrance.
"Chief. Supper," a woman's voice calls out through the heavy curtain.
I quickly wipe my eyes of any remnants of tears. "Enter." I clear my throat.
The curtain pulls back and three women steps inside, their heads low, moving with a cautious, bird-like grace. They set down a spread that looks like a king's ransom: a tray of deep red wine, baskets of heavy, overripe fruits, and a bowl of steaming porridge.
The moment the curtain falls shut and their footsteps fade, the pretense falls off. I am lunging now. I am rushing at the porridge like a thief who has just stumbled upon a treasure.
I shove the porridge into my mouth, chew and swallow with a desperation that is terrifying even to me. Tearing through the fruits until the juice stains my face. Draining the wine in great, desperate gulps but the hunger doesn't flinch.
The bowls falls from my hand, scraped clean. The baskets are empty, yet I'm not feeling the food hit my stomach. It's as if I just poured water into a cracked jar.
"More..." I mumble, licking my lips. My body is staying light, empty. Ravenously hungry. I feel like I could consume the entire village and still feel this gnawing void in my gut. "More..."
I push the empty bowl aside and scramble to my feet, ready to raid the village kitchens. But as I lift one foot, I hear another footsteps approaching. It stops at the entrance.
"Chief..."
Edad. I can smell the thick, salty scent of smoked meat before I even see him. "Enter!" I bark.
The curtain is pushed aside as Edad enters backward, his massive shoulders straining as he maneuvers a heavy iron pot through the opening. He turns around, breathless, revealing a vat of pork porridge large enough to feed a dozen men.
"You slept longer than usual," he says, his voice thick with a mix of relief and exhaustion. "So I thought... why not bring the food I prepared throughout all the days you slept."
I nod, my lips curling into an instinctive, hungry smile. I step aside to let him pass, my eyes locked on the pot. He sets the heavy pot down with a dull thud, then offers me a wooden spoon, his eyes searching mine with a look of profound, aching confusion.
As he turns to leave, I find my voice.
"Where are you going?"
He freezes. "You need... privacy?"
"No. Stay."
He turns slowly, his face etched with uncertainty. "Chief?"
"I know you have questions, Edad."
He lets out a long, shuddering breath, his shoulders finally dropping. "Lots of questions, chief."
I gesture to the floor, and then resumes eating again. Edad settles onto a separate mat across from me, crossing his legs and bracing his hands on his knees. He watches me with a quiet, piercing intensity as I shovel pork into my mouth.
"So?" I ask, my voice muffled through the mouthful of food.
He let out another sigh, his hands rubbing nervously at his knees. "Are you... here?" He asks carefully, too carefully.
I stop mid-shove, the wooden spoon hovering near my lips. I look up, my jaw still working through a hunk of pork. I don't blink.
He swallows hard, his eyes searching mine. "Are you... chief?"
I shake my head vehemently "No."
"No; you're not the chief," he stammers, his voice thinning. "Or no, you're not here?"
"No, I'm not truly here. If I am here, then I'm not entirely alone."
The silence that follows is suffocating. Edad leans in, his shadow stretching across the mats until it swallows my feet.
Then his voice drops to a whisper. "Where are you?"
I lean in to meet him, my voice dropping low too. "Sands."
He recoils, his brows knitting into a mask of confusion. "I don't understand. What are you doing there?"
I turn back to the pot. Shove, chew and then swallow.
"Chief," he presses. "What are you doing there?"
I look up again. "I'm... dying."
The blood doesn't just drain from his face; it deserts him, leaving his features hollow out like wax mask melting near the flame.
"If we don't reach Sands before dawn... I'll go to sleep again, and will not wake until thirty years."
Edad's mouth hangs open, a silent "no" catching in his throat, before his gaze darts frantically toward the entrance of the hut.
Already measuring and calculating the distance to Sands and probably the impossibility of reaching there before dawn.
"Will food help?" He mutters, his gaze still fixed on the entrance."
I let out a reluctant sigh. "Edad –"
"Will eating help!?" He shouts, his breathing suddenly quickening.
I nod subtly. "Yes... yes, food will –"
"Okay," he says, standing up. "I'll get more food – more wine – whatever I can find – and if there's none left in the kitchen – then I'll make sure there is." He swings the curtain and disappears into the night, leaving me with a huge pot of porridge halfway empty.
I raise my left hand to my face to look at the burn, finally beginning to throb with a dull, insistent ache. A quiet laugh suddenly slips out of my chest.
"I will not win... the least i can do is try."