The Legend of Valtera: Chapter 5
The sea was dark and choppy, waves crashing against the base of the cliffs behind the Reed home. The first signs of day inched over the distant horizon, blotting the inky sky with warm splashes of light. The wind whirled around her and Prea’s hair danced on the sea breeze. She wrapped her sweater tight around her body in defense against the crisp morning air as she stood in her usual spot atop the rocky edge, looking out into the nothingness that was the ocean. It no longer held her hopes and dreams; the sea symbolized nothing for her anymore. It just reminded her of an absence that could never be filled.
Yet it still pulled, calling her to this very spot. She took comfort in the immensity of the ocean; it meant there was something in this world that matched the enormity of her loneliness. It was time to go back inside, but she was having trouble moving from her current position. Just as the sea called to her, she felt equally unable to leave, compelled to stay right where she was. Deep down, a part of her was still waiting, hoping that none of it had really happened, that it was all just a dream.
“Prea?” Carr’s voice called through the trees, making her turn away from the trance-inducing ocean. For the second morning, she had let herself get wrapped up in her own emotions and had forgotten about the two people asleep in her house beyond the trees.
Prea turned back to the rising sun, breathed deep once more, and, with all her might, unglued her feet from the ground. “Until tomorrow,” she whispered to the sea and walked away from the cliffs.
Prea crossed into the strip of forest separating their house from the ocean and immediately felt closed off from everything. The cliff and sea left her open, allowing her to feel whatever she needed to feel. But the safety and security of the trees reminded her to be guarded, to protect herself from whatever was to come.
“Prea?” Carr called again as she shuffled through the trees.
“I’m coming, Carr,” Prea responded, the leaves shaking on the limbs above her head as the breeze weaved through the forest. She clutched her sweater close with her left hand and held her right hand out, letting it brush lightly against the bark of the neighboring trees. The familiar scratching against her fingertips calmed her mind and body as the musical chirping grew in the high boughs above her.
Prea caught sight of her brother waiting on the far edge of the copse behind a tree, peering into the woody landscape. She exited the forest a few feet from where Carr stood, his back facing her.
“Carr,” Prea murmured, trying not to startle the boy. A jolt sent him jumping back, spinning around to meet her. “Come on,” she prompted, holding her hand out to him. He crossed the few feet between them, grabbed her outstretched hand in his and they walked back to the house together.
She had decided that she wasn’t going to push Carr to acknowledge or accept the reality of their situation, not directly at least. He was in denial, that was abundantly clear and she wasn’t going to feed that denial. But she wasn’t going to force him out of it either.
The two spent the morning together, eating breakfast and reading stories. They did not see or hear Alvie for hours while she remained in her room, ignoring any interaction with her siblings, though that wasn’t such an unusual occurrence in their household.
As the afternoon wore on, Alvie resurfaced and joined them downstairs still wearing the dress from the last time Prea saw her. She was weak, tired and hungry as she stumbled through the house and into Prea’s waiting arms. Alvie leaned against her sister and Prea held her tight, providing the only comfort in her possession.
“Alvie,” Prea whispered into her ear as she stroked her sister’s silky toffee hair. Their embrace lasted a long time as Prea tried to say everything without speaking because she didn’t have the words. She pulled away and held Alvie’s face in her hands, brushing the stray strands away from her puffy, red eyes.
“Sweetheart, how are you doing?” Prea asked, tears growing again in her own eyes. Her sister’s pain brought her own back to the surface, but Prea knew she had to be strong for her family. She blinked once and the tears spilled, streaking down her face. A deep breath in and the emotions were quickly buried before they could erupt and make things worse.
“I’m exhausted…and hungry,” Alvie murmured as Prea led her into the kitchen.
“Sit down and I’ll make you something to eat,” Prea instructed. “How about some tea?”
“Yes,” Alvie sighed and sat down at the table. “That’s fine.”
Prea gathered some food, brewed some tea and watched her sister closely. Alvie was so different, her personality quite the opposite of Prea and Carr’s, which resulted in the distance between them. They didn’t really understand each other.
“Aren’t you angry?” Alvie asked out of nowhere.
“Angry?” Prea wondered, confused.
“Angry at Papa for dying.”
Prea stilled for a moment. They hadn’t actually talked, mainly Alvie just yelled. “No, I’m not mad. Lost? Scared? Empty? Yes. Angry? No. At least not right now. Papa didn’t choose to leave us. He was doing his job, doing what he loved and what provided for his family. He didn’t want to leave us.”
“I don’t know what to do without him, Prea. He understood me. I didn’t have to say anything, he just knew. He was my Papa,” Alvie said, crying renewed.
“Oh, Alvie,” Prea muttered sadly. She moved over to her sister and brushed the brown hair behind her ear. “I don’t know what to do either. But you’re not alone.”
“Why did this happen? We already lost Mama, why did we have to lose Papa, too?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the universe has bigger plans.” She didn’t really believe it, but she thought it might help to say it. There had to be a reason, otherwise it hurt too much.
“If you believe that, you’re crazy,” Alvie replied quietly.
Prea ignored that comment and set the steaming mug down in front of her sister, placing a plate of food beside it. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
Prea played with her fingers, fiddling as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say. “I was thinking that we could go out to the cliffs at sunset…and say goodbye. I think it would be good for us,” she muttered.
Alvie’s head jerked up in surprise at her sister’s statement. “I…I don’t know about that,” she stammered softly, shaking her head. “I’m not sure I can handle that.”
Prea reached across the table and squeezed Alvie’s hand. “Sweetheart, you’re never going to be ready to do it, none of us are. Who knows? Maybe it will help some. And we’ll all be together.”
* * *
Time dragged on, afternoon shifted to early evening and the sun began its descent. The sisters returned to the kitchen dressed in purple, the color of mourning. It was an odd feeling, dressing up to say goodbye to those they loved and lost, but each did it in the way they felt most comfortable: Prea in a tunic and trousers, Alvie in a dress.
The two set out to gather and prepare for the night’s ritual. “Can you get some bay laurel and rosemary?” Prea asked Alvie as they stepped outside. Alvie nodded. “I’m going to get some periwinkle.”
Once back inside, Prea and Alvie placed their haul onto the kitchen table. Alvie retrieved some twine while Prea created three separate bunches, each containing a bit of the three herbs.
“We have bay laurel for communication with the dead and protection. We have rosemary for purification and happiness. And we have periwinkle for immortality,” Prea said quietly as they tied the bunches together, one for each of them. Once they finished, it was time.
“You ready?” Prea asked her sister, picking up two of the bunches and handing the third to Alvie.
“I’ll never be ready, not really…” Alvie’s voice trailed off.
“Cricket?” Prea called as she walked to the door. “Come on, we’re going out to the cliffs.” Her brother came running at the sound of her voice.
“Why are we going to the cliffs?” Carr asked on the way.
“We’re going to say goodbye to Papa and Leal,” Prea explained, leaving Carr very quiet. As they reached the edge, Prea handed Carr his floral bunch. They stood shoulder to shoulder with Prea in the middle, flanked by her younger siblings. Carr was nervous and twitchy, fidgeting to Prea’s left, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. In stark contrast, Alvie was frozen in place to Prea’s right. They stood at attention as the sea breeze swirled while the splashing and crashing of the water below echoed around them.
Silence ensued as Prea found she couldn’t bring words to her lips. She closed her eyes for a moment and felt the wind kiss her cheeks, took comfort in the strength of the earth beneath her feet and let the sounds of the sea and sky fill her mind. She steeled her heart, opened her eyes and spoke on the breeze, “Papa, you were everything I could ask for in a father. You were loving, kind, strong and helped me become the person I am today. I miss you so much. I miss your guidance, your hope, your faith.” Her voice broke only once as the tears flowed again and she looked up into the darkening sky. “I know you’ll always be there, a light in the darkness, watching over me and I just hope I can make you proud. I love you.”
Carr stayed, but his discomfort grew the longer Prea spoke and, once she finished, the boy threw his bunch of flowers into the sea and darted back to the house.
“Carr…” Alvie turned and called after him.
“Let him go,” Prea ordered, looking over her shoulder. “He’ll have to face it eventually.” Her head spun back to the sky and sea as she continued. “Leal…” Her voice caught in her throat. “You saved me…you brought hope and vision and light back to my life; you helped me live again. I miss you so much. I love you…I’ll always love you,” Prea finished and raised her arm, palm up, clutching the bay laurel, rosemary and periwinkle. As another breeze blew from behind her, she uncurled her fist and let the sprigs slip from her fingers.
Prea watched the sprigs float on the salty air as they dipped and drifted on their descent down to meet the sea’s clear surface. Her hand came down to rest at her side before she clasped her sister’s free hand and held it tight. Alvie’s grip returned the pressure, her chest rising and falling fast as her breathing quickened. Alvie’s mouth opened and she choked on a sob. “Papa, I miss you so much. You were the best father…you understood me. I don’t know what I’m going to do now that you’re gone. I love you, Papa,” Alvie cried on the cliff’s edge. The plants fell from her hand, bouncing on the ground before dropping off and tumbling into the vast blue ocean.
The two Reed sisters, one light-haired and one dark, clad in the violet shade of mourning, embraced each other in their grief under the darkening sky while the wind howled and the birds sang goodnight.
