Chereads / Born of Eternity / Chapter 7 - The Song of Fire

Chapter 7 - The Song of Fire

Min sighed. He always felt this way when his friends argued, which happened almost all the time. If it wasn't about the lyrics to a song he created that didn't meet their expectations, it would be about the drum wearing out with age, the sticks breaking, the straps coming loose—everything.

"Min, take a look at this," Yal said, stopping to hold out his drum strap for Min to see. It was loose and frayed, the once elastic material now reduced to fibers. "I've been using this garbage for the past five years, and every time I look at it, I swear it begs me to end its torture. And all this because of your old man."

"Yal, come on, don't be a jerk. It's not Min's fault," Derif cut in, his voice full of smugness. "You should be telling that to his grandpa, who takes all our money, but when it comes time to stand up, you cowers like a coward. Then you take it out on poor Min because you know he never speaks up."

"Guys, we can't do this right now," Nio interjected. "As much as we hate old Gu, we're still scared of him. And you know what he hates the most: the Bode being late for his call. Don't tell me you've forgotten what happened last time."

A collective shudder from the boys confirmed the answer.

"So, can we please add more energy to our feet and let our mouths take a break?" Nio said, walking ahead of them through the clearing between the trees.

"Yeah, whatever," they murmured, following right behind him, their moods now subdued.

Min took a deep breath, soaking in the peace and quiet of the clearing, the canopy of trees surrounding them, the scent of lilies and roses filling the air.

He stretched out his hands and closed his eyes, feeling a song stir deep inside. It was almost as if he could hear it carried by the wind rustling through the trees.

Opening his mouth, he sang softly: "Do you hear it?"

Some of his friends stopped to look at him, most of them smiling. Min must have been deeply inspired again. His voice, light and serene, could make even the hardest hearts break.

He continued: "It's blowing softly" "Oh, not the wind, don't be deceived" "It's the roar of a dragon"

He raised his voice, sharp and clear like gentle waters rushing down a cliff: "It rises from the west, echoes in the east" "It's the voice of a dragon" "The mighty roar!!" "Eternal flames scorching, falling, burning" "And the ashes quickly blow away" "The heat makes my blood boil" "It sets all hearts on fire" "Filling them with flames that burn everything away" "Away and away" "It's the roar" "It tears my soul apart" "The mighty dragon" "Quickly watch out" "Quickly look out" "Or you will burn" "Ohh ohh... ohh" "It rises from the west, echoes in the east" "It's the roar" "And that's the voice of a dragon"

When Min finished, no one spoke for a while. His voice lingered in the air, leaving everyone dazed.

"Oh Min, that was so beautiful," a voice called from behind the trees. The boys turned to see who it was, and before they could, they already knew it was Keu—the sweet, naïve troublemaker who could irritate everyone with just her presence.

She pushed through the shrubs, jogging toward Min, her hands reaching out to hold his.

"Min, can you please sing the moonlight tonight near the junction with three paths that overlooks Lumbo's house?" Keu pleaded. "You're always so far away that we can't hear you at home. Just for tonight, and I'll never ask again."

"Hey," Yal snorted, his voice sharp. "We're a team. You should be pleading with all of us."

"It doesn't really matter," Keu smirked, her voice light. "Wherever Min goes, you all follow."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Derif shouted, barely keeping his temper in check.

"It means that without Min," Keu said with a teasing pause, "you're all useless."

"Now she's done it," Yal shrieked, lunging at her, but Nio and Derif held him back.

"Do what exactly?" Keu asked innocently, her voice sweeter than before. "Keep screaming, Yal, but keep it down. It's interrupting a good conversation." She turned back to Min with a smile. "So, what do you say?"

Min peered at her, his face expressionless. "Only if my teammates agree."

Keu turned to the three boys, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Turning back to Min, she gave him a smile full of sweetness.

"Come on, Min, all you have to do is walk to the junction, and they'll follow like sheep. Please, for me," she begged, her eyes wide with affection.

"Okay," Min replied, surprising the others.

"Thanks, Min," Keu said, her voice bubbly. She kissed him on the cheek with a laugh and jogged back to the trees, winking at the others before disappearing.

Min touched his right cheek, where she had kissed him, and Yal sighed helplessly.

"Oh Min, he's gone," Yal said in distress.

"Min, tell me you didn't mean that," Nio snapped. "She disrespected us, your teammates. If you agree, you're disrespecting us too."

Min didn't reply. Instead, he walked toward the house in the distance, and the others followed grimly, murmuring among themselves.

Once they reached the block house, the three boys collapsed onto the dusty ground, trying to catch their breath. But Min walked up to the door and knocked.

A grumpy voice answered, and the door creaked open. Old Gu stood there, his walking stick in hand, assessing the boys with a sharp look.

"Come in, boys. Have some water, and get your asses off the ground," Old Gu said, walking back inside.

Min entered, and the other three followed, quickly brushing the dust from their clothes. Min sat on a wooden chair, staring into space, feeling a little heavy.

The three boys went straight for the drum of water by the window, shouting and scrambling for a cup. They impatiently took turns drinking until their thirst was satisfied.

Old Gu entered from the backyard, thumping his stick on the ground three times to get their attention. "Get your hands off my drum and take a seat," he snarled. "And after I'm done talking to you dimwits, you'll clean up the water you spilled on my floor. If you can't drink with some courtesy, at least try not to act like pigs."

They obeyed, sitting down at the long wooden table, their eyes focused on Min. Nio sighed—Min was always the well-behaved one, while the rest of them acted like pigs.

Old Gu walked to the center of the room, his every step making the boys' hearts thump. They feared him, though no one could tell if Min was equally scared of his grandfather. His face remained unreadable.

Old Gu arched an eyebrow. "You boys are almost late."

"Almost, sir," Derif replied, his voice shaky. "But we made it."

"Of course," Old Gu said with a faint smile. "But 'almost late' and 'being late' are essentially the same thing. It's the intent that matters. Maybe it's my fault for spoiling you boys. You're becoming bolder than you should be."

"Sir, we can explain," Yal muttered. "If it wasn't for that girl Keu."

"Excuses," Old Gu interrupted, his voice booming. "That's all you're good for, boy. And I thought better of you."

"We're sorry, sir," Nio said, his voice almost tearful. "Please don't make us play songs all night again. I might die."

"Now that you say it," Old Gu said with a grin, "I think that's a great idea."

The three boys shuddered, and Min sighed.

"Grandpa, why did you call us here?" Min asked.

Old Gu looked at him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're always the one to ask questions, aren't you, my boy?" he chuckled. "The older generation of Zantai warriors is arriving tomorrow at the chief's house. The message came today from a forerunner named Sala. The Bode is required to play them a song."

"A song?" Min said, surprised. "They've been gone for eleven years, and I barely know them. I doubt I'll be inspired."

"You don't have to be," Old Gu said with a grin. "Sometimes, you just have to sing without emotions."

"You know it doesn't work that way," Min replied solemnly. "The song will never come."

Old Gu sighed. "The three of you boys can go. I need to have a word with your singer."

The other three boys rushed for the door, eager to leave, while Old Gu turned his attention back to Min.

"Min, were you inspired to sing something new today?"

"Yes," Min replied, feeling uneasy.

"What was it about?" Old Gu asked, his interest piqued.

"I don't..." Min hesitated. He took a deep breath. "Something about dragons."

"Now that's a good one," Old Gu said with a laugh. "You were inspired by dragons, folklore and myths you've never seen. It's really not that different here."

"It doesn't work that way," Min said, but he stopped. He couldn't even understand himself. Old Gu wasn't exactly wrong.

Old Gu's expression grew serious. "You sang about dragons. I wonder what they have to do with everything."

Min sensed where his grandfather's thoughts were headed. "It's not important. I just wanted to sing about them. It's random, Grandpa. Just a random thought."

"No song of yours is random," Old Gu muttered. "I've always told you of your gift. Your ancestral gift."

"Those are just myths, superstitions, legends, you name them," Min said, shaking his head. "I thought we were both over this."

Old Gu looked at him, a sad smile on his lips. "You may think I'm mad, boy, but I've seen things, heard things that will outstand you. Things you hope never to learn. Every knowledge has a price, and I live with mine while being labeled crazy."

"I wouldn't want that fate either, Grandpa," Min replied. "Which is why you should stop trying to convince me. Save your strength for your will."

"What was that, boy?" Old Gu sneered.

"Nothing, Grandpa," Min said quietly.

"It better be. Now go write that song and find some inspiration. Tomorrow, you sing. If you still can't feel it, chew on a bone or smash some rocks. Now get off my damn chair and get to it," Old Gu commanded.

"Yes, Grandpa," Min replied calmly, standing up and heading toward the door.

"And while you're at it," Min heard his grandfather call behind him, "tell your three friends to clean up the water on my floor, or I'll get them. And I'll get them really bad."

Min sighed, feeling sorry for the three boys. They would have to walk all the way back to clean up after themselves.