Abyss
The stormy clouds loomed over me as I stood in front of the tall skyscraper. Fear rattled my bones. The humidity in the strange air pressure of land was hard to adjust to. However, I had but one goal. Avenge the tribe from the Anaki.
In front of me would lay a future. Home was far from my home any longer; apart from my dear friend Sarit, who was the only remaining thing tying me there.
I wouldn't let nerves rattle my bones. I steeled myself and hid a dagger in my pocket, a dagger made of old crab skeletons and bones. I may not be the strongest in terms of being able to handle the shallow waters or land for that matter, but I know my way around a weapon. I will find a way to get close, then succeed in my goal. The world will be a better place.
I wish nothing more but to see them burn, for everything they've done. For the world they created. "Don't ever let your resolve waver," I thought to myself. There will come a day that my tribe can live in peace. I will prove them wrong that I'm weak. I will kill that monster and all the others with him.
I walked into the building; it was glamorous but somehow cold. In the heat of the country, this place seemed devoid of any emotion. I wasn't sure where to start, so I told the desk manager I found first that I was there to audition to be a singer. "Right this way," bowed the lady leading me into the room. There stood a tall man with pitch-black hair, a dark black suit, and eyes that looked as if they were carved of onyx.
There he was. Right in front of me, the man I planned to kill.
Onyx
I shuffled through some papers. Today was a slow day. The sky was especially murky, like the marshes back in America. It reminded me of my time in NYC, but the bustling city was far from me now...
The tiredness crept into my bones, sadly, making me tense up. A dull ache existed there. So much work was to be done.
I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I said, looking up from my papers, pausing. I sensed a buzz of magick in the air but presumed I imagined it. It felt too soft to be one of my own, but certainly had an edge. The energy instantly awakened me.
A boy walked in, with long fluffy wavy hair. Eyes of deep swirling darkness. His hair was damp as if he'd walked in from the rain. Mayhaps, he had. After all, Thailand rains almost every day.
His hair hang in such cute waves, his build small, but his his face carried a determination and resolve that seemed beyond his years. With deep dark set eyes, as deep as the ocean.
For some reason, that boy looked familiar. I vaguely felt some flashes of my childhood here long ago. The image of a boy flickering in my mind. I could not quite place it nor make sense of it. Just mere glimmers of a fractured past. The boy gave me feelings just by looking at him that told me there is something more to this, something special needing me to pay attention.
I shook my head, asking the boy, "What brings you here?" I asked him calmly but curiously.
"My name is Abyss; I'm here to be a singer and dancer," he said, shaking his long hair out of his eyes.
"Well, Abyss, please proceed to show us your talents," I replied while crumpling my forehead from the headache and jet lag.
Abyss started to try to sing and dance. However, his moves were lacking and his tune was off. He was stunning to look at, yet clearly untrained. I wished I could hire him off of that alone, but I knew my company would not let such a thing come to pass.
"Abyss, why did you come here today when you do not possess the skills necessary for this job?" I asked, minorly furrowing my brow in irritation.
The boy seemed to quiver a bit as if he was cold. I paused. I did not mean to scorn the boy. He seemed hesitant to speak, looking down at his shoes.
"I- I have no experience, but I am very passionate! I wish to try!" said Abyss.
"Well, boy, I do wish to accommodate passion, but as of this time I am afraid you must leave and come back when you find yourself with the skillset in your possession."
He nodded slowly, turning nervously before heading out of the room with a sad look on his face. He paused at the door, then turned back, voice small but steady. "Please, before I go, may I ask you something?" His eyes met mine like a deeper plea.
I put down the papers. "Speak."
"Do you ever feel a pull, like a tide tugging at a memory? I heard the notes and they felt like waves. I remember a smell, salt and smoke — and a story my grandmother told of people who could sing storms into silence." He swallowed. "That's how I feel about this job... I do not know if I can sing yet, but when I entered the room your presence struck me like thunder. I felt safe and afraid at the same time."
There was honesty in him that wasn't theatrical. "Why tell me this?"
Even though he spoke in such a peculiar manner—perhaps because I have a soft spot for such speeches, I still found myself curious to know the answer even though it was our first time meeting.
"Because," he said, stepping a little closer despite the formalities, "I think some things are meant to find each other. Maybe you are here, listening to a random boy audition in your busy day for a reason I cannot name, and maybe I am here because the world needs a different kind of sound. If you let me, I'll learn. I can practice. I can take orders. I can be patient. But if there is any small chance you see me again, please let me try once more."
His plea tugged at something I had buried, a reluctant softness. I could have dismissed him, but the buzz of magick I felt earlier hummed in the room like a lost bond. "Return when you are ready," I said, the words kinder than I had intended. "And bring that courage. It might serve you better than perfect technique."
He smiled, a fragile beam that lit the dreary room. "I will. Thank you." Then he left, the echo of his footsteps lingering like a last note in one of my favorite classical pieces.
I hoped he would come back. Whatever it was he carried in those eyes would change things, I just didn't know how yet.