-last edited on Mar 5, 2021 15:22:20 GMT by LordTigress
Post by LordTigress on Mar 5, 2021 15:21:28 GMT
Episode 72/a: Dreamcatcher
“But for you this place is shame
But you can blame me when there’s no one left to blame
Oh I don’t mind”
Chapter 80: The First Encounter
“Stupid Lars. Him and his stupid gang.” Several birds were disturbed by the snap of branches and clatter of stones. They jumped and flew away from the forest of pale beech trees, squawking briefly. The source of the unexpected ruckus ignored their cries. From a pile of mossy boulders a figure hopped down. He stumbled upon hitting the ground—not by much, but enough to make his scowl grow darker, and he kicked at one of the smaller stones. It clattered away, muffled on the dry sand of the shallow hollow. The boy winced. Now his foot hurt from kicking that rock. As if the rest of his body weren’t hurting enough. His plain brown trousers were both torn and stained, revealing skinned knees. Grit and grass stains dirtied the boy’s pale orange qipao shirt—Mother won’t be happy about that, he’d thought ruefully when he had examined the damage done earlier. Scrapes and splotches of dirt on his hands and his face matched the marks on his clothes. The skin of the palm of his hands were red from when they’d shoved him down on the pavement and he’d held his hands out to break the fall. His coal-black hair, usually combed neatly, fell in scruffy, sweaty strands. He swiped the dark locks out of his eyes irritably. As much as the rest of his bruised and body hurt, however, nothing hurt quite as much as his face. The boy raised his hand to one eye and touched the cheekbone area tentatively. A stab of pain upon contact made him wince and bite his lip. That’s going to be a black eye. The youth stood there among the trees and rocks for a moment, glaring bitterly. His lips trembled, and he struggled fiercely against the temptation to break down and sob. Boys don’t cry. You’re too old to cry, he rebuked himself bitterly. Fifteen years old and you still want to go crying like a baby.
Not for the first time, he wondered why Lars, one of the biggest boys in the village, always found such delight in tormenting and hurting others. He was a cruel bully, notorious for picking on the younger boys and for the small gang of vicious friends who cheered on his violent antics and enjoyed helping him with his ill pranks. The boy was one of Lars’ favorite victims, not only because he was small and skinny, but because he never tried to defend himself nor threaten to report the bullying. Fear had pressed him into submission and acceptance of his fate. Thus the boy often found himself alone in the woods, away from the village and away from Lars and his gang’s jeers. They most frequently ambushed him on his way back from school, when they got bored disturbing the neighbors’ chickens, breaking things in the old mill, or running around in the back woods by the creek. More often than not, they only called him names and pushed him into the dirt and nettles. However, today Lars had not been so merciful. “What’d I’d ever do to him, anyway?” the boy muttered to himself. Talking helped distract him from the pain throbbing everywhere. He glared at a tree, imagining the old bark to be Lars’ fat, sneering face, and proceeded to address it with several words his mother would not have approved of. “I hope the Serpentine get you,” he added. It was a childish insult, especially for someone his age. However, it felt good, and it was fun to imagine fat old Lars being swallowed whole by a giant snake warrior. The boy finally allowed silence to prevail in the forest. Now that he’d stopped talking, it suddenly felt much lonelier. He gazed up at the forest leaves hanging overhead like a shimmering curtain, allowing thin beams of sunlight to hit the mossy ground here and there. A few robins chirped in the distance. The boy breathed in the fresh, earthy scent and felt himself relax. Being among nature soothed him. He closed his eyes. He loved to listen to the music of the woods: the rustle of leaves, the breath of wind, the— —singing? What?
But you can blame me when there’s no one left to blame
Oh I don’t mind”
Chapter 80: The First Encounter
“Stupid Lars. Him and his stupid gang.” Several birds were disturbed by the snap of branches and clatter of stones. They jumped and flew away from the forest of pale beech trees, squawking briefly. The source of the unexpected ruckus ignored their cries. From a pile of mossy boulders a figure hopped down. He stumbled upon hitting the ground—not by much, but enough to make his scowl grow darker, and he kicked at one of the smaller stones. It clattered away, muffled on the dry sand of the shallow hollow. The boy winced. Now his foot hurt from kicking that rock. As if the rest of his body weren’t hurting enough. His plain brown trousers were both torn and stained, revealing skinned knees. Grit and grass stains dirtied the boy’s pale orange qipao shirt—Mother won’t be happy about that, he’d thought ruefully when he had examined the damage done earlier. Scrapes and splotches of dirt on his hands and his face matched the marks on his clothes. The skin of the palm of his hands were red from when they’d shoved him down on the pavement and he’d held his hands out to break the fall. His coal-black hair, usually combed neatly, fell in scruffy, sweaty strands. He swiped the dark locks out of his eyes irritably. As much as the rest of his bruised and body hurt, however, nothing hurt quite as much as his face. The boy raised his hand to one eye and touched the cheekbone area tentatively. A stab of pain upon contact made him wince and bite his lip. That’s going to be a black eye. The youth stood there among the trees and rocks for a moment, glaring bitterly. His lips trembled, and he struggled fiercely against the temptation to break down and sob. Boys don’t cry. You’re too old to cry, he rebuked himself bitterly. Fifteen years old and you still want to go crying like a baby.
Stiffening, the boy opened his eyes. There was no sign of movement or alien life among the foliage as far as he could see. Yet there was a voice, distant but clear… He held his breath and strained to hear more. The voice was faint—clear enough for him to be aware of, but too far away for him to identify anything about it, only the way it rose and fell gently, like a melody. So serene… alluring, even… I need to find who’s singing! On impulse, he pushed his way past a thin barrier of shrubs and weeds and deeper into the woods. The pale trunks of the beech trees flashed by his vision. Thanks to the many smooth boulders and the cushy moss springing up here and there, his shoes padded almost soundlessly upon the forest floor. He dashed in and out of the shade of trees. The voice grew louder. I’m getting close, he realized. His heart began to race with excitement, though he slowed his pace for fear of making noise. A thicker line of both oak and beech trees stood before him like a ring of guards; their shields the bushes and their armor the thorns. The boy neared the lush foliage delicately, taking care to step softly and watch for loose pebbles and dry twigs. Oh, yes: the singer was hidden among there somewhere, their voice still ringing clear and beautifully through the trees. It was definitely a girl, he could tell now. The boy stalled at the realization—talking to girls made him nervous—but all the extra time did was allow him to finally hear the words of the melody. The young man stood stock-still and listened with abated breath.
“… And here we stay until the dawn of day
My love, you are safe in my arms
Never again leave
O my love, never again leave”
Silent, the teenager ventured into the deep of the thicket. He treaded as carefully and quietly as he could, yet he couldn’t help but snap a few small twigs. He froze at the muffled snaps, but the hidden singer didn’t seem to notice, for she continued on. Thus the boy pressed on. Gradually the words became clearer.
-last edited on Mar 5, 2021 19:25:55 GMT by LordTigress
Post by LordTigress on Mar 5, 2021 19:25:42 GMT
“In the shadows you may hide, shielded by the dark
Scared or ashamed, guilty or grieving
Whatever the reason, you’ll never leave your place in my heart
Whatever your sorrow, whatever your sin
You can never escape
No, never escape, the forgiveness and love that leaves its mark
Forgiveness and love, they leave their mark
Forgiveness and love, they brace the rock”
At long last, the boy peered past an ancient oak tree before him, crouching down in the shade of the ferns and tall grass, and he saw her. She stood in a small, grassy clearing a few feet away, her back to him. A slim girl of medium height, her curly blond hair reflected the light of the sun and fell down her back in intricate waves. He couldn’t see what she wore upon her torso, but a thin skirt of some unusual material reached down to her shins, with the seams split at the side. Those legs in question were long and nimble, not to mention attractive. Her feet were bare and dirty, as were her arms and hands. One bracelet clung loosely to her petite left hand, and a few small, white stones bounced from it whenever she moved. The boy froze in place and held his breath, stunned. Now that he had found the mysterious singer, he was not sure of what to do—except, of course, to continue listening to her song. Indeed, the girl’s voice continued, rising wistfully as she sang:
“Hear my song, as here we lay
I hold you to my heart, I calm your angst
And here we stay until the dawn of day
My love, you are safe in my arms
Never again leave
O my love, never again—”
It was at this lyric the girl turned idly, her gaze idly roving about the line of trees surrounding her. Before the boy could duck away, her gaze fell upon him, and she froze. The word “leave” died on her lips. In the shocked silence that followed, her eyes met his. “Hey,” he said sheepishly. Without a word, she turned and ran. “Wha— hey, wait!” He stumbled clumsily out of the foliage. Though he raced as fast as he could, he saw that she was fastest; her bare feet padded the ground lightly as if she were in a ballet. Almost soundlessly, the thin frame of the golden-haired girl flitted across the clearing and disappeared into the trees.
“Wait!” Plants crunched under his feet and dragged at his pants as he stumbled into the thicket. He struggled vainly to catch up. “I’m not going to hurt you! I—” Ahead of him, hidden by tall shrubbery and trees, a loud snapping noise split the air. A high feminine shriek followed, then the sound of a heavy weight crashing concluded. Silence fell like a stone in water, too quickly. The boy hesitated, then hurriedly thrust his way forward. Thorns snatched at his shirt and branches dragged at his limbs, but he shoved them aside, intent on his mission. Within seconds he saw what had happened. A shallow hollow lay before the thicket, the line of trees ending at a short, steep slope that led down to the sandy clearing. A broken tree limb by the ground attributed to the snapping sound; she must have tripped over it, for there she lay on the floor of the hollow, her limbs splayed out and her face twisted in a pained groan. Feebly, she spat dirt out of her mouth. The boy felt a stab of concern. He rushed out of the undergrowth and hopped into the hollow. When she saw him, the girl gasped and frantically pushed herself up. “I’m sorry!” the boy blurted. He felt guilty; if he hadn’t scared her, she wouldn’t have run and fallen. “I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you—here, let me help.” The girl’s face blanched when he drew nearer, and she scrabbled desperately on her hands and knees to get away. However, she stopped when her leg bumped against a stone, and her yelp of pain echoed brashly through the clearing. The boy crouched down by her and realized, “You’re bleeding!” A large, smooth scrape had been torn at her right shin—not deep, but painful-looking. Not to mention, the foot on the same leg was turned in an awkward direction. The stranger’s face was pale with pain—or was it fear? “Please don’t hurt me,” she gasped. Perplexed, he frowned. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Without waiting for a reply, he held out his hand. She looked at it hesitantly, then slowly held out hers. He grabbed it—it was so small compared to his—and gently pulled her to her feet. “Can you walk?” he asked.
She looked at him strangely, seeming unsure of herself. “I— I don’t know.” She eased some weight on the injured foot and immediately winced. “Maybe.” He saw a large, flat rock nearby and helped her seat herself upon it. While he did so, he couldn’t help but look at her. Upon closer inspection, he realized that her clothes were made of deerskin, and a bit torn and ragged at the tips and seams. Her top had sleeves that reached her elbows, but exposed her pale shoulders and her slim midriff. Whoever she was, she was definitely not from his village, for no girl was allowed to be dressed as scantily as she. Aside from that, a necklace matching her bracelet was wound about her neck. Her blue eyes were bright against her thick golden hair, and her face unblemished except for the few smudges of dirt. The boy realized that he was staring at her, and she was giving him a curious look. Embarrassed, he coughed and tried to think of something to say. The girl, however, beat him to it. “Why were you hiding in the bushes?” She asked the question plainly. The boy felt heat rise to his face. “Oh. Umm…” He tried to find something to do with his hands, and settled for shoving one in his pocket and running the other through his hair. “Well… I was listening to you singing.” “That’s it?” She continued to stare at him warily. “Well—of course.” Did she think him to be some kind of creep? “I— I couldn’t help it. I just heard your voice, and I wanted to know who was singing, so I just followed the sound and— Yeah. Just… there you were.” “Oh.” She held his gaze for a moment longer, as if searching for something. Then she seemed to relax a little, and turned to inspect the injury on her leg. “It’s not nice to sneak up on others.” “I know. I’m sorry.” An awkward silence followed. Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted, “You have a beautiful voice.” Surprised, she looked back up at him. “I do?”
“Yeah. It’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sing like you,” he responded earnestly. If there was anything that excited him, it was the topic of music. He simply adored music, and to find someone who seemed to have a natural talent for it almost made him want to dance with elation. However, for the sake of common courtesy, he suppressed it as well as he could. “Oh.” A shy smile and a blush of color to her face chased away the previous signs of pain and suspicion. “Thank you.” Self-consciously, she wiped a few strands of hair out of her face and looked away. “What was that song you were singing?” He wanted to her to keep talking, for him to discover more about her talent and what they could have in common. “Oh, that? That’s just something my mother always sang to me when I was little.” She smiled back up at him. “Do you like to sing?” “Oh, yes!” He nodded enthusiastically and, on impulse, sat down beside her. “I love to sing! And dance. Do you dance, too?” “Dancing’s great!” She beamed. “I don’t get to do it as much as I would like to, but if there’s a beat, I can go on all night.” “Same with me!” He laughed. “Do you take lessons?” “Lessons?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Like, lessons on singing and dancing?” “Yeah.” “No. Do you do that? Is that a thing, taking lessons like that?” Her eyes lit up. “Of course it is! How do you think those professionals get to be so good?” He hardly took a breath before going on. “I have some friends who like to sing and dance, too, and one day we’re going to be a professional dance troupe and win contests. Hey, you could do that! You could become a famous singer.” “What’s a—?” she began. A loud, sneering voice rang brashly, making both teenagers jump. “Ooooooh, looks like someone’s got a girlfriend!” Foliage quivered and rustled loudly, and from the thick leaves Lars and his two cronies appeared. The boy and girl simultaneously jumped to their feet. The boy felt a sickening lurch in his stomach at the sight of the bullies. The bigger teenagers stopped in front of their prey, snickering and sharing all-too eager looks with one another.
“Yeah. It’s amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone sing like you,” he responded earnestly. If there was anything that excited him, it was the topic of music. He simply adored music, and to find someone who seemed to have a natural talent for it almost made him want to dance with elation. However, for the sake of common courtesy, he suppressed it as well as he could. “Oh.” A shy smile and a blush of color to her face chased away the previous signs of pain and suspicion. “Thank you.” Self-consciously, she wiped a few strands of hair out of her face and looked away. “What was that song you were singing?” He wanted to her to keep talking, for him to discover more about her talent and what they could have in common. “Oh, that? That’s just something my mother always sang to me when I was little.” She smiled back up at him. “Do you like to sing?” “Oh, yes!” He nodded enthusiastically and, on impulse, sat down beside her. “I love to sing! And dance. Do you dance, too?” “Dancing’s great!” She beamed. “I don’t get to do it as much as I would like to, but if there’s a beat, I can go on all night.” “Same with me!” He laughed. “Do you take lessons?” “Lessons?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Like, lessons on singing and dancing?” “Yeah.” “No. Do you do that? Is that a thing, taking lessons like that?” Her eyes lit up. “Of course it is! How do you think those professionals get to be so good?” He hardly took a breath before going on. “I have some friends who like to sing and dance, too, and one day we’re going to be a professional dance troupe and win contests. Hey, you could do that! You could become a famous singer.” “What’s a—?” she began. A loud, sneering voice rang brashly, making both teenagers jump. “Ooooooh, looks like someone’s got a girlfriend!” Foliage quivered and rustled loudly, and from the thick leaves Lars and his two cronies appeared. The boy and girl simultaneously jumped to their feet. The boy felt a sickening lurch in his stomach at the sight of the bullies. The bigger teenagers stopped in front of their prey, snickering and sharing all-too eager looks with one another.
These new parts are amazing! I look forward to seeing what happens next.
![[derp]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/YqNTPqyQUocVMYXZgUAI.png)
