Skyedive - Chapter 28, Under The Same Sky
In today’s episode we read the chapter 28 – Under the Same Sky – in which Farfalla looks back on the path that brought her here as she picks up the pieces.
This week's podcast partner is Certainly Strange: https://open.spotify.com/show/1stSYQC9Sqox9TwbU48Dof?si=ct4_QX_NQh6hHZHxZ9eyVA&utm_source=copy-link&nd=1
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FULL TRANSCRIPT:
Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 28 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.
In last week’s episode the camp suffered a devastating attack that left Farfalla as the last one standing.
In today’s episode we read the chapter 28 – Under the Same Sky – in which Farfalla looks back on the path that brought her here as she picks up the pieces.
Today’s podcast partner is fellow Boopod network member Certainly Strange. An attempted murder on a ghost, cursed paintings burning houses down, and lighthouse keepers disappearing without a trace. The world is filled with astonishing stories that will make you think "I don't know what’s going on here, but it is certainly strange!" Join host Nemo on a journey through the strangest parts of our history. Check the show notes for a link to the Certainly Strange podcast.
Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.
Embers.
When I opened my eyes, it was daylight. The bell was still clutched in my hands. I couldn’t believe the scene before me. Everything was gone. Again. All that was left of the encampment, the roaring fire, the celebration, was embers.
It feels like my life is an endless loop of loss and betrayal.
All around me, around my singed boots and the frayed hem of my gown, smoking embers from the fire, and devastation. Most of the tribe members were taken away, their hands tied together behind their backs with rope. The lucky ones were left behind, their bodies sprinkled throughout the clearing that, only a few hours ago, was a scene of joyful celebration. The tents are gone, burned to the ground, or ransacked and torn apart. All that I have left is the Bell. Thankfully, the Bell.
It took me a long time to find the courage to turn and look at the Ancient Oak. I wept, then, at its blackened, bare branches. Its trunk marked with black soot, scarred from bottom to top. I trembled as I let my eyes climb to its towering height, remembering its final instructions to me.
I walked to its base and placed my hand on its trunk, desperate to feel its heartbeat, to hear its voice, its song, but the Ancient Oak was silent.
“I can’t do it,” I remember saying out loud, my words echoing around the clearing, bouncing off the piles of ash and debris.
The Ancient Oak remained silent.
Finally, I dug deep inside myself and walked slowly across the clearing to the other side, a safe distance away from the tree, before fulfilling the tree’s final requests.
~~~~~~
Farfalla’s gaze glosses over what is left of the encampment. Her eyes land on the crumpled bodies of the few tribespeople who were left behind. She recognizes Cormag and Cailleach, their bodies laying next to one another, the feathers from their headdresses scattered around them. She pulls a smoldering branch from the embers and uses the blackened end of it to draw an Ouroboros on the backs of their robes. She then takes a small pouch from the pocket of her gown and delicately sprinkles a mixture of herbs in a circle on their backs. She bends to place a hand on each of them, and softly sings the song of the oak tree. Birds begin to gather in the surrounding trees, quietly watching her strange ritual. Her small, private ceremony finished, Farfalla stands and gives her teachers a moment of silence before speaking her first command. “To dust,” she says, a single tear falling down her cheek. The fabric of Cormag and Cailleach’s cloaks sinks to the ground as the bodies they once covered instantly disintegrate. “Now fly, sweet birds,” whispers Farfalla as she lifts their robes into the air to release the ashes piled beneath them. She circles the encampment, repeating the ritual for each of the fallen while the birds watch quietly from the edge of the clearing.
Her task complete, Farfalla lifts her tired, tear-stained face toward the top of the Ancient Oak. She notes that the gray sky is now visible between the tree’s bare branches. Farfalla walks to the tree and places a hand on its trunk. There is no pulsing heartbeat, or song, or instruction today. The Ancient Oak stands in silence.
Once again, Farfalla finds herself alone, but this time she is not vulnerable, not lost. No one will ever hurt her again. Now she is the one in control. A coldness washes over her and she feels her heart harden. She walks across the clearing and turns to face the tree, then inhales deeply before launching her next command. “Fall.” She pronounces the word forcefully, her voice void of emotion.
A tremendous, thundering sound fills the air and echoes through the forest and surrounding fields to the sea on either side as the tree begins its slow-motion fall to the ground. Farfalla watches as it lands, its massive expanse of branches covering the entire encampment. Dust and soot lifts into the air as the Ancient Oak’s trunk crashes into the earth. Farfalla stands perfectly still as the cloud of debris floats around her. Once it has settled, she gives her next command. “Break.” Within seconds, the branches of the tree separate from the trunk, falling to the ground.
Farfalla gets to work, collecting the branches into piles, organizing them by size. She works for hours, never noticing the night fall, and the sun rising again the following morning. She works in the dark, like something not quite human, with eyes like those of a nocturnal creature. Finally, her task completed, she looks at the tree’s tremendous trunk, and gives her third and final command. “Split”. Again, a deafening cracking sound fills the air. Farfalla watches as the trunk splits lengthwise, like a lightning bolt has struck it, then another strike, this time cutting the trunk into quarters, then on and on until the tree’s trunk has been broken down into an endless pile of logs. Farfalla goes to work piling the logs in the center of the clearing where, only one night prior, there had been a raging fire around which she had danced. Again, she spends hours working, somehow adorned with superhuman strength.
It is dusk by the time her task is complete, and Farfalla lights the fire with a flick of her fingers. She doesn’t even think twice about the inner workings of her new abilities, her full command of nature and the elements. The orange glow of the flames flicker across her emotionless face.
Farfalla tosses the robes of the tribespeople into the fire and watches them disintegrate before she finally lays on the ground and allows her body to give in to sleep. She sleeps straight through the night and through the next day, finally waking in the wee hours of the following morning. She stands and stretches, preparing for the monumental task ahead. She runs the Ancient Oak’s instructions through her mind. She circles the clearing one last time. There is nothing left here now. No tents, no people, no fire, no tree. Only piles of branches, and dirt, and ash.
Farfalla begins with the largest branches, and twists them together, securing them with vines that she uses like ropes. She wipes the sweat off her brow as she works, threading the branches together to form a wide arch laying on its side. Next, she weaves the smaller branches between the larger ones, building onto her frame and making the arch wider and stronger. She continues this way, working most of the day, adding more and more to the arch until it spans across a large portion of the encampment.
Finally, daylight begins to fade, and Farfalla stops to rest. She forages for berries and mushrooms in the forest, and dips her cupped hands into the cool, clear water of the creek nearby and drinks in quick, desperate, thirsty gulps. She returns to the encampment and sits in the center of the clearing. Ru the red deer appears at the edge of the forest and stands perfectly still, quietly assessing the damage. “Hello, old friend,” she whispers. The deer walks to her and bends its head down, so they are eye to eye. “Tomorrow I will need your help. Tonight, we rest,” she says. The deer snorts in acknowledgement, then turns and saunters back into the shadows of the forest. Farfalla lays down on her back and looks at the sky above. Through the empty circle in the forest canopy that had once been filled by the massive spread of the Ancient Oak she can see the moon, only a small shard away from being full, and a scattering of stars twinkling with varying degrees of brightness. Somewhere, some time, Elisabeth is under the same sky. Paloma, Mama, Papa… Marius. They are all under the same sky. Farfalla waits for the thought to warm her heart, but the only thing she feels is cold, firm resolution.
Thank you so much for listening. Join me next week for Chapter 29 – Embers to Ash – in which Farfalla learnes the agonizing truth about The Ancient Oak, and herself.
The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon or Ko-Fi, where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! You can also find The Skylark Bell exclusive merch on my website, www.theskylarkbell.com. Just check the show notes for all necessary links.
The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further, you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for all necessary links.
Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.
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