Vi

Vi -  nonbinary - Dec 04, 2014

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" If you were to once, once, look in cotton darkness that soaked up light like a black hole with gravity- then maybe you did it often. Maybe you would often find, in the darkest night – that wasn’t that dark with the nightlight of the moon above – feathers and soft wing beats in the root hollows in trees that would sooth and drown you softly with heavy eyes and foggy thoughts; and perhaps you would go to sleep – whether on the bed of thorns and sticks or in a cave of shivering blankets over your shivering head – and then you would find sweet dreams with a taste of tea in your mouth.

A hush of crows shush over a mush of humans that laugh drunkenly and without a care as they wave clumsy limbs around themselves like ribbons on a moving pole. They would not see the ‘Habaaran Socotada’ as they would call it in their language. They would not see it any more than an eyelash; an eyelash floating away from loud noises that remind it of memories forgotten in the top layers of the mind – like the memories of irrelevance gone through transport across a boundary of doors – and they are not allowed to be remembered.

Curious minds attract the ‘Proklet’, while chaos and violence and despair repulses the ‘du khách’. All words more sense than not to the ‘egún ti rin ajo’, excusing both the mutterings that originates from alphabets of swirls and dots and lines and calligraphy, as well as the first language that has been forgotten. The ‘gitunglo’ has habits of frequent opening and closing of clipped wings when confronted with worry and nervous and frustration. But it is and will always be the ‘rin ajo’. And it will always be ‘maleït’.

Waking up in a strange, dark place would be scary for someone who has knowledge of the world or the capability to imagine it. But the unknowing creature on the floor stirred and looked up and didn’t think anything at all; for without any experiences, how can you draw from them to react? We are all started as blank beings, empty canvases, and this canvas had not a stain on them.

“Remember when we went out to that picnic? That’s right, he did…”

Ahh, there it was. The first taint. The first experience. Though it wasn’t the usual mother and father cooing sound, or the doctors calling out – usually – if it was a boy, or a girl, or boys or girls or something else entirely. No, it was a whisper, an echo, a surreal identity hidden from the winged Belldandy. But the Belldandy didn’t understand the words.

“They requested another one of your kulturní peří umění – is that how you say it?”

The unknowing Belldandy on the floor understood some of that. Cultural feather arts? Was whom this voice was talking to an artist? Their ears were up and their bells ringed as their head moved. They observed the fragile bell, wings fluttering it curiosity. Something new; cold metal on their fur.

“I can’t believe it. Just idiots. So I told them…”

The voices faded into the back of the thoughts of the Belldee as, for the first time, they encountered a new conundrum. What did they do now? What action do they take? Maybe they should try to get out?

“I heard what you did; are you sure that was the right decision?”

Curious wings fluttered up and down; feathers were knocked loose and turned red like rust on iron as they touched the ground. This didn’t intrigue them; what did was the thought of flying. Could they fly?

“When you said; ‘I wish I would just forget’ did you mean it?”

They didn’t know much. Did they know anything? But it seemed instinctual, muscle memory perhaps, to try to run… jump… fly-

“You were right. I- I did try. I’m sorry. I won’t tell.”

The first, sharp sting of pain – on the front right fetlock joint. The Belldandy hiccupped in shock and didn’t understand what it was at first; but pain is instinctual, so eventual y they started to ignore it and focus again.

“-ink, you know? I love you dearest, little explorer of mine.”

Focus again. Think again. Try again. They needed to do that, right? They wouldn’t succeed if they didn’t try.

“I heard a rumour- did you know? It wasn’t you , righ…”

But it didn’t work to fly, and they really didn’t want to risk having that pain again; their whole leg ached softly with weight on it. So what else could they do? Looking around, there wasn’t much to see, until they spotted a branch – loosely leaning from the ground to the crack above them.

“-eed a light, just strike a match – they won’t know-”

It was hard, most of all, to get on the branch; it moved with each move they made, to the left, to the right; a see-saw they didn’t want to be on, if they knew what see-saws were. But they tried, and they tried hard.

“Are you okay? They told me-”

The brightness almost blinded them; they had been in the dark, in the hallow of the tree for so long, they couldn’t see in front of them- not until their eyes focused.

“Did you free it‽ Are you alright?”

They felt their first taste of defeat and misery, and subconsciously their wings dropped down to hang by their sides, making them struggle to stay balanced before they began their inevitable fall to the ground. The hole was way too small.

“Abyss’s aren’t that dark, I swe-”

It didn’t hurt as much to land as before. They landed on their side, and it was quite a strong ache, but the Belldandy preferred it to the sharp edge of when they landed awkwardly on their legs. It had started to hurt more then, though, and sitting down the Belldandy refused to let the strange liquid in their eyes drip.

“Was it the right choice?”

Suddenly there was a large thumping sound, coming in beats of twos. A strange creature… walked by.

“Answer my letters, please…”

Fright. Terror. They shrunk back away from the noise as it went past.

“Don’t panic, alright? It’ll be fine.”

Dislodged dirt fell down from the hole above them. The belldandy stared at the strange white material that fell with the dirt, cautious. Panicked.

“It’ll be alright.”

What was it? It was cold and they shivered as they walked towards the falling feathery dust-like white particles. The sound of the creature was in the distance. The Belldandy’s first opinion was of

how beautiful the fluff looked in different lights,

“Leave everything behind. I’m sorry.”

And the first laugh when one tiny piece landed on their nose and melted in the warmth.

“I’ll remember you.”

The light was bright above now. The whiteness reflected it. Was it big enough?

“It’ll make it so you can’t understand us! That isn’t fair! Come home!”

Should they try again?

“Your journal? But you love that thing! Oh…”

Maybe if this time they had something to help…

“Fine!”

If the twigs were piled up at the base…

“I know what you did and this won’t make it go away!”

Stable enough?

“I don’t condone what you’ve done, but this is wor-”

The Belldandy climbed closer, closer to the light, easier now.

“Don’t punish yourself-”

Suddenly the branch moved, and they would have called out for help but they didn’t know how, and just made a squeak.

“Why can’t-”

But no. She could do it alone.

“You- I-”

It wobbled. She had one more choice. Step off now, save the pain…

“Vi x x”

Cold light swallowed them, and they thought that Vi was a nice sound to call themselves.