บท 3: A Man Who Does Not Know Music (1/2)

On the third day, my boat reached the deserted coast of an island I did not recognize, but I had never traveled far, so I would not know of this territory.

Slow waves pushed my splintered boat further onto shore. I made no attempt to climb out and touch the sand. The earth, which I had dearly missed. My stomach was sunken as I had not eaten in days. The only water I had tasted was that of the ongoing rain punishing me even after the loss of everything I loved.

I still did not want to believe it.

But I clung to the childish hope that some of my community was alive. That my sister was well. I had never survived on my own before. I did not think I knew how to live without a mother.

I knew I did not want to.

The sun licked painfully at my skin, which had dried up a long time ago. I was delirious, seeing things that did not exist and hearing things that were not possible. Like the horrific belt trembling a forest of trees. I heard the leaves whine and branches turn away. A massive force struck the ground, like the footstep of something to be feared. Something colossal. And the earth hummed like something dwelled within it.

The boat shook, and only out of curiosity did I lift my weak limbs to observe the new way my mind played tricks on me.

In the forest, a tree tipped over and fell. Crushing the floor of short grass and unburied roots. A rapid current of air lunged at me, forcing sharp sand into my eyes. I hissed and rubbed at them until most of the pain was gone. When I opened them, another tree fell, and something scaly peeked over the forest. A beast with pointy ears the length of my body and soulless black eyes.

I stared because my eyes told me this scene was too fictional to be true. Monsters only existed in stories of wandering travelers who had nothing to exchange for a meal but entertainment. But the environment's suffering proved otherwise. Again, the ground shook. More violently than the last, and my boat panicked.

The beast wailed, and it was like a thousand distorted lion cries. Two trees in the way snapped in half. I thought the world might end with how violently the earth moved. The water had long cleared from my ears, but I felt the tunnels shiver from the blaring noises of the creature.

A flash of red cut above the trees.

An agile man in simple clothing.

White tunic. White skin.

He soared above the forest, jumping from each clutter of trees and mingling with the air like a bird in flight. No, more like an angel, and the treetops mere clouds he bounced to and from.

I was immediately fascinated despite the hunger bleeding in my stomach and the splitting of my parched skin. I observed him evading the otherworldly creature with inhumane agility.

Was I hallucinating in my final moments, or was this indeed happening now?

The man jumped, the earth cratering from the force, and anchored himself onto one of the beast's ears, out of reach from its thick limbs and flat teeth that seemed to crush boulders. With his sword, he stabbed the center, the sensitive canal, and tore his way down to dangle beside the massive head.

The creature whined, and I did not have time to cover my ears. My own eardrums split in agony, but I continued to observe the man. He abandoned his sword and dropped to the ground, and that was when I heard the pull of the earth. A sound like roots snapping. Another tree was uprooted, only this one did not fall. The man wielded it like a rod and beat at the screaming creature.

I looked on with fascination and horror mixing, because the man did terrify me. A beast's monstrosity could be explained. Excused. But the ability of this man defied the order of the natural world. It made goosebumps erupt along my arms that he might notice me with that same strength.

The tree snapped across the creature's head like a stick might on a rock, and the man showed his back to uproot another. Foolish. Because the creature lifted one of its monstrous limbs to—

I strummed my lyre. Only once, and it had been enough to pause the creature. Its massive, bleeding ear twitched, searching for the melodious sound. I climbed onto unstable legs and strummed my instrument again. Music. It was all I knew how to do. All I was capable of. So, I played. And I sang despite the protest of my throat. I was sure it wasn't pretty. And I climbed out of my boat while the creature's head turned slowly above the forest to notice me.

I knew by the shaking of my limbs that I was terrified, but that did not stop me. I calmly approached, each step matching every pluck of my instrument's strings. The trees rustled, and the man from before wove between each thick stem with the grace of someone dancing for a king. Even walking, his movements were too fluid. Elegant in a way that was only learned because it was unnatural for a human to be poised at birth.

He was young-looking, so a prince, perhaps. One that ruled over this land.

He watched as I crossed the thin strip of beach, his eyes foxlike and narrowing on my movements. They were green. His eyes. A shade that only belonged in nature. It was a crime to attempt to replicate it because no mixing of paints or dyes could thoroughly do so.

Beautiful.

Him and the beast. As I sang and approached and inspected it up close, I noticed how its scales stole the sun and turned it into color that reflected harshly into my eyes. Its skin shimmered like that of something a king might hold dear.

The creature listened to my voice, its black eyes sinking closed as I affected it. It brought hope to me that my music was working, and that if this were the last time I ever strummed my instrument, perhaps it had saved someone's life.

My melody turned the beast docile, and it folded itself on the ground contentedly. I would have continued to sing, but my malnourished body gave out then. The last thing I saw were falling leaves, perhaps as magnificent in color as the man's eyes had been.

****

I woke to the crackling of fire in the forest at night. My eyelids were heavy, still exhausted, but for some reason, I was awake. I turned on my side, and my arm gently knocked a bowl of water. Remembering how frustrated my throat was, I drank it greedily.

When I finished, I sat up, dizzy and with a throbbing head. I looked across the dancing flames.

The man was here.

Long ring-like curls traveled over his broad shoulders and swam down his chest, red like rust and fire and wild like the nests you would find tangled in trees. And whereas my skin was bronzed from living in the sun, his was pale. Reflective. White, but not like snow I had never seen. White like ivory. White like the initial cream color of cotton before it was bleached beneath the sun.

In his slender hands was my lyre. Touching. Seeking. Discovering.

I felt defensive that this stranger might think to steal what belonged to me.

"That is mine," I rasped, my throat patiently recovering.

The man moved green eyes to me, and I flinched. He observed me with no emotion. "You are not human," he stated, like it was fact.

"What?"

His eyes narrowed. "You are a siren. That is the only way you could have produced those sounds from earlier. But you are male and with legs, so I am confused. I do not know what to do with you." He twisted my instrument in his hands. It was foreign to him.

"I am a man. Not a siren," I said. "Those sounds I produced were music."

He paused, his expression plain like he did not believe me. "I have never heard of the word." Then, he waved my instrument. "This is your weapon?"

"That is my lyre," I stated, and panic crested. I knew not what a siren was, but if this man thought me to be a monster, there would be consequences I likely would not survive. "Come here, and I will show you how it works."

"Beside you, is where you are calling me to sit?" He was skeptical.

"In front of me," I corrected carefully. "So we can view each other, and I can prove I am not dangerous."

He was tall when he stood, and flamelight caught on the soft definition of muscles molding his bare arms. He glided over to me and collapsed in the grass. He smelled pungent of the forest. Sweet like smashed berries and wild like clovers and ginger, offering me a reprieve from the rankness of my own smell.