Songbird

Do you ever think of yourself as a human?

Yes, in every context of that word. Of average value is the topic. Imperfections, needs, mistakes and desires included. Oh, desires. Those are of vast significance to someone very special.

Let us embark further and meet this very special person.

It was Monday, for her the number and name of the seven days still unresolved.

She was letting out beautiful words and hums from her soft lips, sending them into the green of the forest around her. The words slowly but steadily entered the forest that represented a thin borderline of clear grass and dense trees.

Was she singing? Or was she talking to herself — the answer was not definite, as it was both, switching from one to another from time to time. But be sure; her voice was as splendid as the songs of all the exotic birds you could name.

She brilliantly imitated a songbird, even while being a bee.

Imagine half-drunken Eivör completely embracing the beauty of the light green meadow near her wooden house. With gentle body movement and soft grey-blue hair wilding boldly with the field wind, she would enjoy the beauty of the sun-kissed meadow.

Then a synchronized hand movement! Then the gestures of an opera singer!

Her carefree attitude emitted everything wondrous that resided in her fragile heart. It was probably the joy she had held so dear with her that day.

Everyone liked seeing her happy.

Who wouldn't?

Although alone, she didn't fall victim to gloom. She never lied to herself either. She knew company was something she had craved for and a loved one to enjoy the field with her would be splendid — they could roll in the soft grass together, lay on it and cuss the blues straight out of the bright sky, all while holding hands and laughing.

Silky hair started attacking her mouth. She stopped her thoughts and picked up her gloves which fell asleep on the grass. She almost stepped on them.

The thoughts of loneliness seemed to come back. The hums would do no good. She gripped her gloves and started doing a couple of swirls with her whole body — once presenting chords of an opera singer, now the imitations of a ballerina.

You see, the perks of being one of the seven were rather interesting.

It was a real problem solver, too. She would usually call upon a swarm of her trustworthy bees to enlighten the feeling for her and make her less lonely. With that in mind, dozens of bees started appearing alongside the motion of her body.

Everyone hated the village she was in, especially the meadows. We could take Eivör as the only exception since all of this seemed much like an oasis dream to her.

It has been two hours since the beginning of her neighbor's funeral. She was late. Given the circumstances and her dazed state, nothing would change.

Eivör skipped the funeral and came home late afterwards.

The night chirps acted as silent cracks of modest fire. The wooden house that was not a home was sleeping on the edge of the meadow, as per usual. Its sleep Eivör started disturbing.

She was doing fine at first with eyes wide open and soul partially peaceful, returning to her residence with one single bee, while the others were set out in the forest – some to keep guard, some to sleep.

So the entering went smooth and no interference appeared, but soon after she swiped the entrance door closed, a voice sighed.

It was the deep voice of her stepfather Mosel.

"You can explain, it's not what it looks like, I know, I know. Spare the words."

"Eh, quite the opposite. It's exactly what it looks like."

Eivör sighed in truth with one hand still on the door.

"To dismiss a funeral of a good man is disrespectful even for your ranks."

They stared at each other while still as stones. Sharp, dead looks were thrown all across the room and silence was the law.

Eivör turned around gently towards the main hallway and said a couple of cold words, thus breaking the law.

"I don't think that it will change anything. That's just what Death is. I'll bring flowers to his grave when I leave tomorrow morning if it will spare me the bitter, ironical judgment you throw at me.

And don't call me disrespectful, because I'm not. You know I could kill you right now if I wanted to."

She always insisted upon being bigger than her body. Saying such absurd things she would never do was a way to tell the people around her to not bring up a fight.

Even Mosel, as the calm stepfather he was, knew how much Eivör cared for him, and despite the poor communication and bonds, she would never willingly kill him.

2

The night chirps were now twice as loud.

Everyone in the village was asleep, excluding Eivör.

This was a common imagery, however. The ability the seven humans have required a sacrifice, therefore constant fatigue was a part of every one of them.

Throughout the long night Eivör sat in the corner of the somewhat strange hallway and silently stared at the tiny window at the end of it, while the single bee was resting on her bruised knee. When she entered the darkest depths of the night, her thoughts formed a lucid minefield full of dying desires and long-lasting wishes, where one blink of an eye represented a clumsy step. Her head was exploding every three seconds.

No, two seconds.

The whole night went on like this. It was not sleep, it was endless reverie.

The hallway had been eaten by the morning. Sunlight sneaked in through every hole and gap, the fresh morning breeze engaged sounds of shrieks and howls.

Eivör's knee was unoccupied. The single bee wouldn't have left without Eivör knowing it. She glanced down, only to find the bee lying upwards on the wooden floor. It had been more than one hundred and twenty-two days for this one, which was their average lifespan. She stared at it quietly before putting it in the safety of her soft and warm palms.

Neighs could be heard from the outside — the horses were aligned. It was time for her to head out.

The wind was wilder than any other day of this year. What earlier seemed like a friendly breeze was now an aggressive howl of mother nature. The meadows were shaky and unstable — only a foretoken of the upcoming action that Eivör was assigned for.

She threw her right hand in contact with her forehead so she would make shade for her eyes to see clearer, however her hair was all over the place as it was dancing profoundly.

Five horses were aligned in a straight position. Out of nowhere, a voice appeared.

"I see you have slept well, as always, madam."

It was Masuda, Eivör's main escort and caretaker inside the group of the seven. She had known him ever since she was a small child.

"That joke is getting old, Masuda, nonetheless it's nice to see you. What are the prepositions?"

"Myself, here the serve and protect you, as always. Five horses, four guards. One of them is sir Jonna, you've met him in an earlier mission if I recall so."

"My pleasure serving you again, madam."

Jonna jumped in. He seemed to be glad to be working with the Bee again.

"The objective is to safely arrive to the others and regroup, as always. This time it's an abandoned cavern near Teutoburg forest, approximately six hours away from here. And as always, you're riding with me, m'am."

"I have a quick request before we head off."

"B-But, my lady, we must not" —

"We'll be done in a minute, I promise."

She hopped on Masuda's horse with a maroon colored bag on her back, with flowers gently peeking out from it. As she turned her head, she saw her loving stepfather Mosel sitting next to the window and watch her go, as he would usually do. Only this time, he had an almost unnoticeable smile cracking on his face.

Must be the flowers.

Given the fact that the graveyard was in the very corner of the meadows, it was not too far away from Mosel's wooden house, thus they arrived fairly quickly.

It was dead silent. Only the wind's furious howls could be heard. Eivör hopped off Masuda's horse, approached the man's grave, opened her bag and laid the flowers directly on top of his grave. Then she raised the flowers and put the dead bee under them.

"Bee, the flowers will protect you from the chilling wind. Neighbor, the bee will protect you from evil. A farewell I send to the both of you."

She went back on Masuda's horse and they jousted out of the meadow village quickly after.

The wind was only getting stronger and stronger.