Chapter 4 Emergence #2
I consider, looking at the floor and thinking about what he has said. Finally, I look up, meeting his blue eyes for a flash and then quickly looking away. “I would like to stay here,” I say. “It is nice enough, and you three are the only people I know.”
“Truly?” Fem asks, looking worried. “You really know no one else? Where did you live before?” Because I can respond, he says with a slight shake of his head, “No, do not answer that. I really don’t mean to pry.
Only I fear you will be bored with no entertainment.
Is there anything we could get for you?”
“Truly, I’ll just explore for now and try to figure that out,” I say quietly and note that my voice shakes slightly.
Reem is quiet for a moment. I feel his eyes on me.
He has a serious look on his face as he says, “We are quite busy and have important work to do. I expect that you won’t become a bother.
If you do, we will need to find you another place to stay.
Otherwise, you are welcome to live here with us for the time being. ”
I nod at him, understanding that his work is important. Reem considers and, perhaps finding my assurance acceptable, rises and leaves the room.
Lent is silent for a time, as though wanting to say something but not knowing what it is. Then he rises slowly and walks towards the door. As he leaves the room, I hear him saying something to Reem about being rude.
Fem looks over at me and says, “We will be downstairs in the ballroom if you wish to find us.” His tone is quiet and kind. When I look at him and nod, he rises as well and leaves.
I sit for several moments and have to admit that I shed a few tears, not hopeless tears, nor angry nor from pain.
They seem to be from some emotion that I don’t quite know yet in my short life.
Finally tiring of them, I wipe them from my face and explore, first this room, and then out into the rest of the house.
As I begin my exploration, I hear a sound rising through the floor.
At first, it is noise only, and quiet at that, but slowly it turns into music.
I begin to hear a voice singing, although it is too muted to make out the words.
With curiosity building, I eventually find my way to the stairs down to the lower level.
As I descend, the music grows louder and the words slowly become clear.
“I hear the knife pierce flesh and bone
And gasp as though it were my own”
The stairs continue into the darkness, and I travel down them slowly, lost in the music floating up from where the band plays without knowledge of their audience.
“The pain of flesh doesn’t bother me
It’s the pain of heart that’s broken free”
The music is fast-moving and rough. I don’t have names for the instruments, even when I finally see them. Focusing on the sounds they make, I settle myself against the doorframe at the base of the stairs, unnoticed in the shadows.
“The cry that bursts out from my lips
Can any sound compare to this”
I rest there with eyes closed and lose myself in the threads of sound that, when mixed together, create this thing which is more than noise.
“A mix of horror and of pain
The worry that my love is slain”
Finally opening my eyes, I watch the band. Fem and Lent have their eyes closed, faces blank with concentration. Reem, who is singing, is looking at a scrap of paper pinned on one wall, while he plays one of the instruments, which is swung over his shoulder.
“I’m at her side fast as sunlight shaft
I wish I knew the healing craft”
For the first time since I arrived here, I think of the demon Malam.
He gave me this life, and I feel I have much of his knowledge.
I have memories that I know are not mine, of killing, fighting, and the use of weapons.
I know proper courtesies and dancing and how to ride a fine horse fast through clogged streets.
These aren’t just memories either. Somehow, I feel as though my body might know these things as well, and it feels as though I have a physical strength that isn’t entirely mine.
I also have an awareness within me of things I’m sure Malam wouldn't know. There is some intelligence in me that is not my own nor the demon’s. There are also instincts that seem like a map in my head, and while it’s spread out in front of me, the paths are as of yet not clearly marked.
“I press my hands to where blood rushes forth
Her body lying pointing north”
I wonder at my knowledge of angels and demons.
I remember darkness and flight without wings.
I’m aware of a great conflict between light and dark, and of the danger of the poisonous smog in the air.
I feel the danger of the lack of green things as though it is a weapon poised over me.
However, most of that knowledge seems useless to me as of yet.
“The sirens wail and scream in the night
An echo of my silent plight”
The Boys play their music, investing themselves in it, and I sit here at the foot of the stairs without anything clear to invest myself in.