Rays of Yesterday

➸Chapter One: Farewell, Bertâgne

"Mummy, look, it's a butterfly.."

. . .

The bliss of heavy slumber wore off fairly quickly, as does the heat and runniness of candle wax once it contacts the surface of a person's skin. A young boy began to stir as a dull sun ray shone in the sky and penetrated through the thin skin of his eyelids. A tawny-shaded pair of eyes cracked open slightly only to be shut again from the burning light of the rays blinding his pupils. A loud sound followed; it sounded like water. A lot of water, like there were millions of gallons of it, just sloshing around and colliding roughly on top of the other with a salty scent that filled his nostrils.

The...sea? Why am I outside? Near the water, am I?

Confused, the boy brought his head forward in a singular swift motion and tightly squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again to force them to adjust to his unfamiliar surroundings, his eyes soaking up the scene.

He was seated on the floor with warmth eloping his body, but a slight brisk wind occasionally hit and stung his cheeks and nose. He saw that he was on what seemed to be a huge and immensely crowded wooden ship. Men, women, and children from infancy to budding adolescence and personal belongings such as furniture like chairs and wooden chests that were most likely filled with clothing were tied and held together by thick ropes wrapped around them. The boy had never heard so many different sounds and tones from others' mouths before. He did not understand anything anyone around him was rambling on about other than moments when he'd hear the occasional French chatter in faint conversations nearby. He listened in on their discussions, but they did not give any information about the situation; they would just complain about having little space, discussions about changing their names, and being exhausted.

"Oh, Vincent, have you finally awoken?" An all too familiar voice questioned in a hushed whisper near the boy's right ear. The feminine voice belonged to none other than his devoted mother, Alana; her warm embrace and soft-spoken native Gallo tongue eased Vincent's nerves at the setting around him. Alana's slender hands felt comforting as they brushed through his dark brunette hair. Her fingers tried to smooth a few strands down to make his hair appear a little neater, but as usual, it would not cooperate; it was too stubborn! Oh, how she was grateful that her son was born with her characteristic of having a head full of thick hair but not the texture; she couldn't imagine fussing with more curly cues like hers. Though the rest of his features were also similar and just as delicate as hers, only his large eyes were a lighter color than his father's. "Did you sleep alright? I never noticed how corpse-like you are when you are in such a deep slumber," She continued jokingly to lighten the mood of their situation. "Are you hungry? Your father had just gone to get something. Perhaps you two can share."

Alana's words fell deaf in Vincent's ears. He was hearing her voice but, for some reason, was not fully processing everything his mother was saying; the young boy's mind was still clouded from the drowsiness that lingered on.

He was trying to remember the short-lived events of the night prior, and even then, nothing made sense to him. Why were they in the middle of the seemingly endless salty seas with strangers on board around them too? Where were they going? And why did his parents rush to leave in the dead of night? Vincent could not get the image of his mother's face out of his head from that moment. Her blue eyes were wide, and her full lips parted as she frantically and seemingly randomly grabbed hold of some stuff as she kept repeating the same command of obtaining a few clothes and a blanket from his room, nothing more. Vincent could see the fright in his mother's eyes. She reminded him of a frozen, timid rabbit afraid of its predator that was about to strike. That's what had put fear into him, too, he didn't understand why he was scared, but he must because clearly, his mother was.