Medium

"Mediums are the mouth and ears of nature and its epitome, death. So in a land where history exists better burried in snow, they are hunted down like beasts."

-Traveller's Guide to Sovenia

©

"For Fuck's sake..." a series of mumbles echoed below the Ice Bridge, flowing with purple waters underway.

"Was he gay? Ian'drah would never..." he recalled, one by one, all the maidens of which his childhood friend bedded ever since he learned the wonders of manhood.

"I'm sure, he only loves me as... a friend." his arms found his own waists. The agonizing scream earlier spoke of adhesive yearning, slimed with malice and tarry passion that until now, were dancing by the curves of his ear- like a wet tongue.

Eyes burried on his palms as he tried remembering how Ian always compliments a maiden's beauty, all his tales of sexual encounters, speaking details of how their bodies sends him up to the heavens and yet forgetting them the very next day.

He's not convinced. Ian is near royal status through the Silver Lady, it seems impossible to throw it all away.

His attention reverted when a seagull perched in front of him, it's beak poking at the streams below the bridge, not minding the alchemist at all.

"Does Ian'drah affectionately desires me?" Sion asked the pensive creature.

"What do you think?"

Sion searched in his satchel, bringing out bread of Ocmenian origins which Laguna had given earlier. He offered it to the bird for company. "Here, have some, I was saving some for my birthday but to inferno with that." The Seagull did not hesitate to peck on the flat bread.

"Ian'drah is not in love with me, is he?" He asked the bird feeding from his hand.

"We both know that you know the answer." A Flesh-scaled trout surfaced its head from the waters.

"I do?" Sion asked the fish.

"Yes, you certainly do." The Seagull replied instead.

"Then he doesn't see me as a husband would, right?"

The bird wailed a sound that could bleed out a cup from Sion's ears, its eyes exploding red as it swoops through the water like lightning, catching the Trout with its beak, grinding on its beak to send grotesque squirts of crimson jets.

"Don't you dare lie to yourself!" The decapitated head of the trout infuriated, beady eyes blooming crimson. "You're blessed with a gifted mind yet you waste it with a soft heart under petty denial!"

"We know deep inside that you're well aware of the Sailor's feelings." a voice whispered beside Sion's ear. He turned to his shoulder to see a spider and its heavy legs, creeping to his cheek with its eight eyes and legs hooked at him.

"He longs for you..." The Fish added before sliding deep in the bird's throat.

"But I'm certain, he's in love with the Silver Lady..."

"Oh, you're gravely mistaken..." the Bloodied Seagull said.

"He holds the Silver lady only with his hands." The spider whispered unto the curves of his ear.

"But you hold his mind." The seagull continued.

"Oh, we've seen everything." A Vulture announced upon descent.

"Oh yes, we have."

"You hold his breath each morning."

"You hold his eyes..."

"His heart..."

"His time..."

They bickered back and forth.

"You always hold his entire lifetime down your hands..."

The boy stared wide eyed on his feet.

"He only holds other hands because he can't hold yours." The spider rasped before crawling inside his tunic.

"He is afraid to hold you..."

"He is a defiant moth."

"A stubborn one."

"But you... such sight of constant fire!" Numerous eyes stared back at him from his chest, reflecting his crimson hair from each shining globe.

"His warmth in this cold world."

"He'll never feel cold as long as you live."

"You should see him at night."

"Hear him at night..."

"Your name replacing the name of the maiden in his bed." The creatures said in frightening unison.

"Snowberry... Be one with me love..." they conveyed the cries they hear at night, the moans of painful imitation.

"Enough!" Sion grabbed the spider away from his chest, throwing its crushed carcass far behind the birds which they flew quick to feast upon.

"Spare me, please... This day's been too much..."

He wept. Bloodied birds with bloodied beaks flying away from such saddening sight.

He was left there with loud thoughts rippling in the vastness of his mind. As if each memory is completing the puzzle with a sole answer: Everything that the sailor did for him was out of love, the questionable kind.

He stood up from his curled state, patting off the dirt along with the thoughts collected from sitting down too much, there's only one way to find out of the truth. He needs to confront the Sailor.

"Matilda... You foolish little girl..."

He looked back, he was sure he heard Matilda's voice just now.

Such hefty burden of sanity, of stress, he figured he might be hallucinating. This day had took its toll on him after all.

"Foolish little girl."

This time, he looked back in frosted sweat, a coldness sifting from underneath the currents yet the voice spoke near his ear.

As if Matilda was right beside him.

"Matilda?" he called out but the name just echoed under the ice bridge.

"Matilda... Matilda... Matilda..." his voice travelled through the darkness, fading- until silence devoured the name.

There was no one.

But there's a serial killer on the streets of Dirge so he thought he shouldn't spend more time alone entertaining hallucinations.

So he rushed back to the streets, every crunch of snow under his feet away from the stained river sounded like the gnashing and gnawing of teeth on bones.