Heartfelt Sounds Read Online Free PDF Page A

verse from memory.
    My reply is swift:
    Even after love has faded, gently, like the wilting of a flower,
    Even after seasons change, and dead leaves pile,
    Even after my longing for you turns into tears,
    My only purpose is to find you.
    Lore chose this song after much deliberation. Meditating on a thought, her mind flew to her departed husband. Lost to wars. Needless wars of yesteryear. This verse composed her yearning, coupled with the promise of a new beginning. When I became her apprentice, she seemed to smile a bit more and laugh a bit louder. But that only lasted for a time.
    Somehow, I feel as if her slip back into drink is my fault.
    I was powerless to stop her. And now…
    Powerless. I was powerless.
    I finish the verse, clutching to a memory:
    I care not for whether this is right or wrong,
    For, after a lifetime of love, and a lifetime of sadness,
    After our partings, after our times together
    I grasp that this is what the Fates have scripted for you,
    And in this life, even though I have regrets, I will not complain.
    The backs of my hands are slick with wet. The fabric beneath me darkened by damp.
    I wipe my eyes.
    “Is there more?”
    I turn my head over my shoulder, but Shanti's mouth is closed. Her eyes glisten, but they move from me to the doorway we entered earlier.
    Scratches adorn this woman's face like so many rivers upon a map. Her eyes spark with differing colors; one blue, one black.
    “Oh—uhm,” she approaches me unsteadily. Shoves a hand towards my face. “Chima—nice to meet you.” Her hand is limp when I clasp it. We shake.
    “That was beautiful.” she murmurs, red fills in the scratches upon her face as she blushes. “Really—I-I've never heard a songstress sing before and—”
    “Chima, this is Naia.” Shanti breathes, an edge ringing loud in her tone. “Is there something important you need to tell her? Or are you just here to distract us?” her voice rises as if she's speaking to a child that doesn't quite get it.
    Chima's brows rise. When she opens her mouth, I notice gaps between her teeth. “There's lunch in the parlor—Akane sent—”
    “— thank you, Chima.” Shanti sings. She takes a hand from her lap and fans her fingers towards the mousy girl. The gesture a polite invitation to leave.
    But Chima doesn't take the hint. “I'm a gerant in training!” she all but spits at me—her blush deepening as she wipes sweaty palms upon the thick apron tied round her small waist. “And I guess you're trying to be a seamstress? How old are you? Are you from Felicity? Gosh—your hair is long!—”
    “ Chima!” Shanti claps her hands loudly as she snaps at the girl. “Chima— thank you! I'm sure Nyx is missing your company—maybe you should go speak to her?”
    Chima hops onto her toes. Freezes with her mismatched eyes planted on Shanti's face. She bows her head, her brown bob collects around her ears with the movement. “Sorry.” she squeaks when she rises. Spins around with her arms tight to her body. Leaves.
    I smile down into my hands. I pick up a piece of fabric. “What did she mean?” I ask, my eyes watching pink blossoms unfurl only to close again. The fabric breathing. “'Gerant'? Is that a title?”
    Shanti sighs. “Kokoros can explain it better than I. But that girl's a liar. She isn't sweet—nor is she a gerant.” The slight tap of her loom fills the room as she begins to weave. “Rather, she's sweet until she leaves nightshade on your mat in an attempt to poison you.”
    “That little thing?” I ask her, laughter bubbling in my throat.
    “Did you see the scratches on her face, my dear?” she chuckles. “That little cat has had her share of fights.”
    …
    Shanti waits before she calls for a break. We enter Akane's parlor to the smell of fresh bread and hot soup. The strange jars from yesterday have been cleared away, their spots leaving vacancies upon the cupboards. As if something needs to be there but can't. The round wooden table to my right