Chapter 2: 1. Prologue II (A Tale for Us, The Beginning’s End’s Time)

1. Prologue II (A Tale for Us, The Beginning’s End’s Time)

- Located on a Faraway Land -

In a small house, with walls made of solidified clay layered by fragments of metal sheets, was a small girl reading a book. Her stomach faced the ground, elbows pressing down on the hardened soil, and hands supporting her head. She swayed her tiny legs up and down, flipping a page while listening to her mother hum to a song who sat behind her in an old rocking chair while knitting the girl’s clothes.

To the side, on the wall, was a small fireplace illuminating bright orange light with flames radiating all around the house, being the only source of brightness in the dead of night.

Next to the wooden entrance door of their home was a small cut-out hole in the shape of a square. The width of the clay wall was a couple of feet long, allowing small potted plants to have a spot on these window sills. Additionally, the house had plants scattered about, but most were in the back of the home, where they would grab the most sunlight.

“Mama,” the girl called out while continuing to read. “Are there any other songs that you sing to?”

The mother stopped knitting and looked at her daughter.

“Not really. Why do you ask?” The mother had a calm voice, a profound motherly one that sounded mature for her age.

The girl then faced to her side where a small table lay, and on top of it was a small instrument possessing a body and an arm made of wood with four strings attached from each end. 

“During the day, you sing in front of our house for hours while playing that instrument... You even sing at night."

The mother turned in the same direction and smiled. “That’s right,” she replied. “Are you curious about how to play it?”

The child remained silent for a moment before responding. “Not really. It’s just that- You sing the same song every time. Why?”

“Kia,” the mother placed the shirt she was knitting on the table next to her and reached out her arms. Kia, the little girl, turned around by her name called.

Seeing her mother holding her arms out, Kia smiled excitingly, stood up, and walked to her. The mother gently held her and rested Kia on her lap.

Kia Dawnborne was a 6-year-old girl, skin light soft with beautiful coal-colored hair running down to her shoulders with the edge trimmed straight across. She wore a boxy top with light gray coloring knitted by her mother and a soft cotton skirt that reached down to her knees, leaving the lower half of the legs bare.

She had flippers made of smooth tissue and ductile sticks tied around her feet to keep them from falling off, specifically between her two large toes, which had a soft sponge for comfort.

“I’m curious,” the mother stroked her head. “How far are you into reading that book? Are you understanding any of it?”

“Not really. The words are everywhere and it feels like it’s otherworldly. Like- there’s big words, too. The person who wrote it should’ve used easier words. What’s the point of using hard words? Everything is so confusing that I don’t understand and it's frustrating!”

The mother chuckled. “It’s alright. This book was never meant to be easily readable. So much information jumps right at you like a monster that you can’t think straight.”

“Then why did you tell me to read it,” Kia murmured, averting her eyes away from her mother.

“Everything needs to start somewhere, right? You can’t get smarter if you don’t have any harder books to read. And because you're my daughter, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it in no time!”

Kia looked down and embraced her mother’s aggressive hand strokes while chuckling at their ticklish sensation.

“Kia, this book is very special,” the mother continued.

"Special?"

She nodded. “But before I explain that, you asked why I’m singing. Remember your dad? Because of him, I enjoy singing while playing the instrument he gave me.”

When hearing about her father, Kia’s grin lowered into a gloomy expression. A couple of logs in the fireplace slid down, emitting loud popping noises of fire and ashes being thrown into the air and outside.

“I never sang much back then. But oh my, Ri- your father was so bothersome, begging me to keep on singing as if he could never live without it,” the mother placed one of her hands on her cheek with a slight blush.

Kia looked up to see her mother’s face. The sincerity on her face caused her mother to stop stroking her head and stare at her in curiosity.

“But papa is gone…” Kia hesitantly murmured. “He kept going in that tower, so he’s not here anymore. So why do you keep on singing? And you are singing the same song over and over again. It doesn’t feel right.”

The mother grinned. “Your dad was a strong man. He always had that energy that brightened our days. For so long, he went into that tower and gathered enough coins to give us food. It’s hard to pay back how much he did to take care of us. It may be too late for him to hear me singing, but I want to treasure what he found special about me.”

Silence filled the atmosphere along with the fireplace burning with exhilaration.

“That tower. It took him away from us… I won’t get to see him anymore,” Kia finally spoke.

Kia’s mother looked at her with a smile but also with a saddening expression suppressed behind it. There was an ache inside her from witnessing her child speak about a heartbreaking matter.

“Kia,” she whispered into her ears. “Do you know where the words come from and why it’s important, the song that I sing every day?”

“...Not really.”

“This song comes from the tale that the book holds. What you’re reading right now, somewhere in those pages, there’s a small box of words that make a very rhythmic pattern of pronunciations. It’s easy to notice its structure and purpose, but the melody is impossible to decipher.

“Many say that whoever can find the perfect melody to this will help discover one of the most memorable songs and also a powerful song that can send shivers down the people who listen to it. Isn’t that cool?”

Kia nodded in response, assuming that it did sound cool.

“Although I’m interested in what this melody sounds like, the words in them give the most meaning.

“The song, at first when I heard your grandma singing this, it made me tear up. This song holds justice. This song is everything that we wish for, and it keeps me reminded that someday, a light will enter the darkness and bring us outside of the walls.”

Kia knew nothing about what the world held because her mother mainly kept her inside with strict attention. She was permitted to leave when told to, mostly around the time when her mother sang.

Their living conditions were harsh. With not much money, they could barely pay for water and food. Kia lost her father four years ago, and the amount of money earned from him was all spent in under two years.

Their water shortages were noticeable from the way their plants grew. Some refused to flourish with green coloring, as most decayed in their second month of living.

The mother spent her time singing the same song but with different melodies that brought attention to people outside who also were in poverty. On average, she earned enough to feed one grownup for a day. So as a result, she often sacrificed her share to Kia for her to grow without concerns.

With so little to understand about the outside world, Kia remained hidden inside the single-roomed house. The only thing she knew was that the entire civilization was stranded, trapped within a circular wall that was impossible to escape.

“What does the song talk about,” Kia asked.

While resting her head on the chair, rocking it back and forth in a steady rhythm, the mother said, “The song- actually... the book talks about a little boy coming into this world. He will grow and get stronger... And in the end... He will free us all by destroying the wall.”

Kia hadn't come up with anything to say as she looked up to see her mother beginning to tear up with minor sniffles coming from her nose.

“Mama…” she called in worry. For a long time, she never saw her mother cry in front of her. The last time was when she lost her father, but it was a while back to the point where she never understood much about him.

“...I hope that one day I get to understand what the book says,” she said as her mother continued to remain silent. She wiped her tears in an attempt to keep up her bright attitude toward her daughter.

She looked down at Kia once more with a stinging smile. “Of course, I'm sure you will.”

Kia smiled back with resentment seeing that her mother gave off such a peaceful yet pained look.

“Kia, I believe somewhere in your life, the boy will draw his first breath. This book doesn’t say anything about when, but I’m sure it will be soon. I want you to be ready when the day comes.”

“Is it that important?”

“He will save us all, so of course it’s important,” the mother patted Kia’s head with small laughter.

“How will I know when he’s here?” Kia wanted to keep her mother happy. She thought that following and even encouraging her way of speaking towards her mother would brighten her mood.

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“When the boy comes, it will be two weeks of constant pain where a lot of bad stuff will happen. Those two weeks will help you understand when he will come, but we will never know who that boy is. Even after he’s born, his identity will still be a mystery, so when you're searching, be careful about who you think is the boy.”

Kia couldn’t help but be more curious about what would happen. She thought that maybe if she continued to read the book, there would be an explanation about this subject. She currently read about an eighth of the entire book. So conclusively, the journey will be a long while-

“And about the book,” the mother added. “I may have to take it away now.”

Kia jumped out of her mother’s lap and stood still, staring at her in shock.

“T-t-take it away?! Why?!”

“Now that I told you this, I’m guessing you will be reading with intentions of knowing what will happen...” There was a slight regret in the mother’s mind when she mentioned the 2-week disaster. For a while, she believed Kia reading without knowing any significance would make her forget what she read. And now that she spilled everything, it became an honest mistake.

“But then- Why was I reading it in the first place!?”

“Oh, I wonder too…” the mother had a conflicted look.

Kia backed off while grunting. She turned her petite body around, snatched the book off the floor, and grabbed it tightly around her arms.

“No!” She exclaimed while facing away from her mother. But after a moment, she turned her head around to see her dark figure.

As Kia saw her mother stand up directly behind the fire, serving as the only light source, it blackened her front, giving out a mysterious aura that frightened Kia. She couldn’t tell what her mother felt as her face was enveloped in black.

“M-mama, you’re scaring me. You better get back!” Kia shouted while curling up in the corner of the house, shoving away the plants and hiding behind the empty pots.

“Now, now,” the mother responded with a gentle tone. “Kia, don't make this more troublesome. You holding that big book wants me to hug you even more.”

Kia felt embarrassed by her words but refused to turn in the book. She tried to hide her noticeable smile from her mother's happy remarks.

“Don’t touch me!” She shouted.

The mother, without hesitation, lifted Kia in the air and brought her back to the rocking chair. She sat down and wrapped Kia around her arms to prevent her from running away.

“I want to know!” Kia begged.

“Later, my dear,” the mother’s face was visible again by the light coming from the fireplace.

After a moment, Kia loosened her grip with a teary and defeated expression as her mother grabbed the book and placed it on the floor next to them. The conversation between the two halted as silence filled the air until the mother continued speaking.

“Kia, in all honesty, I will tell you this.”

Kia looked up in curiosity. Suddenly, she saw her mother’s expression become serious with her smile and sadness vanishing almost instantly. In a straightforward tone, the mother spoke with utmost sincerity.

“The reason why your dad is gone was because of those people living in the city. If they would’ve helped, he would still be here with us. They are living so carefree, advancing whatever they have while leaving us here in this state.

“Our side and their side had a terrible history, and we are on the weaker side. We would’ve lived with your dad if they at least noticed what we were going through…

“Kia, remember that one day, the boy will come into this world, and he will bring an end to everything. When that day comes, remember to find him and take care of him as best as you could. He is our only hope.”

In nervousness, Kia looked up at her mother’s eyes and nodded slowly.

“Oh,” the mother eased her tensed expression and apologized for her sudden change of tone.

“There may be a lot of questions that you have, but I want you to read the book yourself when you are a little older because I’m certain it will answer all of your concerns. After all, it was written for you, us, and everyone in this world.”

Kia lived her life behind clay walls, so she had no certainty if stronger people were living as if the food was a second thought. Her mother always mentioned a city, but due to the large terrains and mountains blocking the way, she never seemed to find it, which presumably had rich people. She couldn’t even see a wall that supposedly trapped the entire civilization under a large circle.

However, Kia imagined the possibility of coming across new people and life that may bring joy to her, fueling her with energy from the mother's stories of the vast world before her.

She read many books with the help of her mother, mainly simple books that told stories of fantasies and heroes. If the city looked different from where she lived, then there must be something there that would intrigue her curious mind.

Kia looked in the distance where a table was resting. On top of the table where they usually ate, the 4-stringed instrument roughly the size of Kia’s head and torso caught her attention once again.

With everything her mother had said, Kia knew what it felt like to have a driven goal. With how much commitment and devotion she saw her mother portray through the song she sang, she couldn’t help but have a desire to extend her capabilities.

She wanted to use that talent and draw in the people all-alike to have them listen to their music. If more people were listening, then me and my mama may be happier, she thought.

And one day, for her mother's sake, she finally sees the boy that may do very wondrous things far more extraordinary than what she’s currently expecting.

“Mama,” Kia spoke sharply. “How can I sing like you?”

The mother opened her eyes wide in surprise.

Kia said once more, “I want to learn how to sing. Can I learn how to sing like-”

The mother joyously smiled with high energy. Her mouth opened and her face warmed up from the excitement. She hugged Kia while kissing her on her forehead while pressing her face deep into her puffed chest, cutting off her words.

“Oh, Kia,” the mother cried in joy. “I’m so happy that you want to learn singing! Are you sure you want to learn?”

“Yes. Also, I can’t breathe…Your chest-”

Kia struggled to speak, muffling through her mother’s clothes while attempting to push away from her tight hug.

“Oh dear,” the mother let go of Kia with a nonstop stream of positivity and hummed happily.

But then, seeing the time right now, her mother was afraid that it may have to be on hold until the next day. By this time, on the cold night when no one was out in the streets, the entire area was silent with no voices to be heard.

“Kia, even if I’m very excited to hear this, we need to sleep. It’s getting very late.”

It had been a few hours since the sun had set. Using the logs her mother bought cheaply, she kept the house lit with warmth.

“Alright…” Kia responded, realizing that her body was beginning to feel tired. She smiled at her mother while yawning.

“In the morning, I’ll teach you how to become a singing storyteller, just like me," she murmured enthusiastically. She joyed to see that she would have someone being alongside her in her footsteps. Moreover, it was her daughter.

She carried Kia to a corner of their house covered by a blanket on the floor. The color - matching nearly that of the ground made of hardened clay, she gently placed Kia in the center.

Kia looked at her mother walk back to place her unfinished cloth and the book on the table with the instrument. After a minute of cleaning, she returned to lay down with Kia, covering half of the blanket on her.

The mother crossed both of her hands together and brought them up to her chest. She prayed while closing her eyes. “By our gratefulness for Mary - the gift of fire, may we have another blessing day tomorrow.” Kia followed the prayer with a drowsy tone.

After their little prayers, the mother turned to face the burning fireplace about two meters away. She reached out her hand and, utilizing her energy, jerked her hand to the side. Suddenly, the fire hushed immediately with no trace of it remaining. The logs that were glowing in orange quickly faded into black and the popping of the flames receded. The mother and Kia were in utter darkness with no light anywhere.

She hugged Kia with one arm resting on top of her little body.

“Sweet dreams,” she said to the already-sleeping child.

 

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