Melodies filled Ailbhe’s room as she woke from a deep sleep. Leaning up from her bed, she found her mother sitting at the corner, playing the Heliah—the song of their people—on her signature flute. Her mother enjoyed playing her flute in the early mornings for both Ailbhe and her father. She had been playing in preparation for the upcoming festival that was being held by the people of Holedark to celebrate the annual Red Moon. The rhythmic sounds that escaped the flute completely captured the focus of anyone within earshot, compelling them to concentrate on the music.
Her mastery of the instrument had earned her immense fame and immunity from the city's conscription, which many young adults feared. The famed Cleo of Holedark was a renowned name throughout the land for her musical prowess and her ability to command her instrument to create perfect lullabies.
Ailbhe stayed silent, leaning halfway up in her bed and clenching the blanket to her body. After a short moment, she forced herself out of bed, threw her legs off the side, and stood up. Raising her arms, she leaned backward and stretched, her legs and back cracking.
Cleo winced at the sound of the cracks and stopped playing her flute. "Morning, sleepyhead. It’s almost halfway through the day. Your father has already been out of the house for a few hours. He’s gone out with a bunch of hunters to try to track down those wee lads who didn't come back home after going out two nights ago."
Ailbhe’s legs felt numb, and her heart skipped a beat. She knew where her father was headed and what it meant. She put her arm against the wall to steady herself, fearing she might collapse. Cleo, putting down her flute, stood up with a worried expression and stepped toward Ailbhe to help her if she fell.
From a young age, the children of Holedark were told to stay away from the dangers of the north river crossing. Stories of children disappearing after venturing past the river were told to naughty children who ventured too close to the border. Ailbhe knew the dangers of the crossing and recognized the danger her father had put himself in by going out to find those lost boys. She knew her father also knew the dangers and couldn't comprehend why he would put himself in such an awful situation.
She stood upright, grounding herself, gathering her thoughts, then walked over to her clothes and dressed in her usual attire: a fitted, earth-toned wool tunic belted at the waist, loose linen trousers tucked into knee-high, well-worn leather boots. She slipped on her fingerless leather gloves, tied her hair back in a loose braid, and fastened a carved stone pendant around her neck, ready to face the day.
Leaving the room, she found her mother who had left the room as she started dressing standing and leaning against the wall of the kitchen. “I know what you're thinking. You haven't said a word yet since getting out of bed, and I know why.” She paused and sighed, looking down at the floor in frustration. “You want to go help him, don't you...?”
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Standing confidently, Ailbhe furrowed her brow, crossed her arms, and bellowed, “He’s not coming home if he stays out there. Those boys who went missing are a lost cause, and Dad shouldn't die because they wandered off.” She wiped away a tear beginning to form and pushed past her mother, who was about to respond, and left the building.
Ailbhe shut the door firmly behind her, stepping onto the narrow street. She weaved her way past the morning crowd, her movements quick and purposeful. The street was alive with activity, vendors calling out their wares, children playing and neighbours exchanging gossip.
As she passed a gathering of people at one of the town's wells, she overheard fragments of heated conversation. “The well's dry again!” one older sounding woman exclaimed angrily. “It’s that damn cavern ceiling. More sun gets in now, evaporating the water faster than we can draw it.”
Another man nodded; his face grim. “Ever since that crack opened up, it’s like the city’s been baking in an oven. More light, yes, but less water. Something needs to change”
The conversation about the recent changes to the cavern's ceiling brought a vivid memory to Ailbhe's mind. She had been out shopping with her father in the market when suddenly, a bunch of debris fell from above them onto a nearby stall. The salesperson inside it was killed instantly, the area plunged into panic. The marketplace, usually dim and cool, was more brightly lit than Ailbhe had ever seen it because of the new hole in the roof. The chaos and fear that day had left a lasting impression on her, a stark reminder of the precariousness of their subterranean home.
Determined, she continued on her way, her thoughts a turbulent mix of worry for her father and the pressing issues facing her home. She soon arrived at the house of her friend, Evie, who lived directly beneath the new hole in the cavern ceiling. Evie was a loner, known to keep to herself and rarely seen in the company of others. Ailbhe was her only close friend, a bond formed in their early childhood that had withstood the test of time.
As Ailbhe approached the modest dwelling, she noticed how the increased sunlight had transformed the area. Where once darkness cloaked the home in a perpetual twilight, now beams of light illuminated the space, casting long, sharp shadows. She knocked on the door and waited. Evie answered, her pale face showing surprise at the visit. "Ailbhe," she said softly, stepping aside to let her friend in. Inside, the house was sparsely furnished, with only the essentials visible. "I heard about your father," Evie continued, her voice filled with concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Ailbhe shook her head, appreciating the offer but knowing the risks involved. "I just needed to see you," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "This whole situation is tearing me apart, and with the city facing so many issues, I don’t know what to do."
Evie nodded, understanding Ailbhe's troubles. She led her friend to a small wooden table where they sat in the brightened room, the sunlight streaming in from above casting a warm glow over them. "We'll figure it out," Evie assured, placing a comforting hand on Ailbhe's arm. "You’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, I'm sure we will figure it out."
Ailbhe smiled weakly, comforted by her friend's support. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget the looming dangers facing her father and just be present, grateful for Evie.