TFAMM: Have You Met Lydia?

[Ben]

**[The singing bowl of the Po Chi Lam has been humming for around an hour. Until it catches the attention of one life, one presence, special to the sender.
Family..
Then it’s speaks in a tongue only a few can understand.
The voice is known to Mei Mei]**

She was in the water.
At first,I didn’t know what I was seeing.
I thought she was, like, a swamp light, or a reflection.

Then I knew her for what she was, man.
A shade.
A leftover from what somebody’s seen and lived. A last gasp of the spirit, clingin to what was.

That’s when I sat down to listen, to Lydia.

I opened my mind to the sounds of the dead, and her shade sang me a song.
A song of a world where her many tattoos held a kind of magic. They would move on their own and carry her. They would support her through hardships and see her through strife.

Once, they opened a portal, and she stepped through.
And found herself here, in Astrel.
And her tattoos, they began to fade, but not just in color, in a texture only she knew. They lost their luster. They lost their magic.

She sang that she felt her mind go, and I felt like I was there with her.

I… often feel that way..

At her most vulnerable, at her weakest, she began to feel a kind of hunger. For the warmth and wonder she used to feel from her art.

That’s when they caught her. That’s when she went in chains. Forced into cells with others like her.
One of her tattoos was brighter than the rest, like a beacon. The number “5”. When she turned from me it blazed from the nape of her neck.

“That’s the one they gave me”, she said. “My captors, I think it printed on my SOUL.”

Her song broke, and .. my heart .. broke with it.
I got no doubts, man.. I know who it was.. I know where we are…

She told me what she saw, what all the captives were witness to.
She told me of three prisoners who went through a little more. Number 7, 37, and 99.

They were selected for more experiments than the rest. Not that others were especially spared, but those three, well..
They got the special hell..
And it stripped them down.
Till what was left.. wasn’t.. not anymore.

A few of the prisoners, including the twisted 3, managed to escape.

Only a few made it out, including Lydia.
Worn out, tired, and succumbing further to a growing hunger and need, few of them remembered who they were.

“I felt the fading of my light”, she sang. “I could feel my mind going, and the hunger getting stronger. So could the three.”

“In them, it was a fire burning.”
“The Dejardin wanted weapons and they pushed until they broke. Now the 3 embrace the hunger.”

“My tattoos, my essence, still held a last glimmer of magic. It was magic they needed.”

“37 told me to kneel. 99 said to offer myself as tribute. My legs buckled to comply, and 7 showed his teeth.”

“I begged 37 for mercy.”

“She looked me in the eyes.”
“said, call me Camillia”
“And looked away”

Lydia began to fade, but the last glimmer of her entered the water. I dived in to follow it, down to the depths of the lake. What I found there was lit by one remaining tattoo.

The number 5.

The rest was gnawed down to the bone. The other tattoos, they ate them first. They would not touch her number.

Out of respect? Disgust? I don’t know..
I dug her a grave.
Said the rites..

“To the Earth return
In the Winds be Free
Whatever your burdens, lay ‘em down
Take it Easy, Lydia”

And I drained .. I don’t even know, Mei Mei.. maybe 3 gourds worth of baijiu..

I’m sick with sadness, Mei Mei. I feel like hope is leeching out of me, and I might fade away with it.

Nothing quenches this ache, it seems. The gourd is running dry, and maybe I am too.

I send this to you, because.. I guess.. I want somebody else to sing her song, and to try to remember that.. that sometimes we just need someone to listen.. to hear.. to believe..

And to tell each other, that it’s okay to be kind. To care for each other.

And that life without that.. well.. without hope.. there never was any magic, anyway.. ya dig?

I think I’m coming home..back to Meadowmere.. if enough hope shines forth to light my way…

[Author]

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