Love Me for Eternity || Bruno Madrigal

Chapter 9: The Mountains

The stillness of the night rather calms your nerves as you trudge along the dirt path.

With only a simple oil lamp to guide you, your father sets his eyes forward. You go forth as the overgrowth turns thicker and thicker, the town lights becoming much dimmer by every passing second. The sounds of guitarras and merry laughter was drowned by the sea of quiet as you go up the slope of the mountain; the fortress that surrounded the Encanto.

You eventually arrive on a higher point of the ranges later on in your hike, but it wasn't in any means the peak just yet. You look up and see the looming figure of the mountain; it was far too steep to climb, but you were confident you could get up there if you had the tools. The night air nipped at your skin, your nose turning colder than the rest of your body. You shivered at a passing gust of wind as you rub your arms together to create warmth. You closed your eyes just a brief second to imagine yourself in a warm blanket (and possibly protecting your eyes from being bitten by the freezing night air).

"Abre los ojos, open your eyes, mi niñita,"

You flutter your eyes open.

Under the guidance of a lonely oil lamp, you could see the beauty that surrounded you—the life the blossomed under the flickering light, the critters that roamed about during the wee hours of the dark, the scents of damp dew and grass, and the fireflies that illuminated the dirt path further into the growth. You see your father smile as he points towards the direction from where you came.

You look behind you in a bit of confusion, but you gasped at the sight of your home, the Encanto. Illuminated by the lamps from various households, you could see the light that came from every vibrant home despite the late night. From where you stood, you could even see the Madrigal home—you could faintly make out the candle that forth the miracle in the distance.

"This is why we learn eskrima, hija. We protect these people by being watchmen of the Encanto." he sits on the grass and pats the space beside him. You followed suit and scooted close to him, eager to share your father's warmth.

"Why do we need to be watchmen, papi? Aren't the mountains enough to protect us?" You ask while you rest your head on his shoulder—well—arm. He was far too tall for you to reach his shoulders even when sitting. He gives you a pat on the head and he wraps an arm around your figure.

"The mountains are there to protect us, yes. But we will never be too sure. We can get out of the mountains—I can get out of those mountains. If we can get out, then that means people can get in as well. I can still hear them on occasion , mi niñita. They're still trying to find us," he breathes in a shaky sigh as he tightens his grip on your shoulders.

"We aren't just simple shepherds. We guard the mountains from any outsiders; outsiders that would try to hurt us. We have to take care of our community, that's what your Padrino Pedro asked me to do in his last breath." He swept his gaze across the mountains, to the village, and to the overgrowth beyond.

"Padrino Pedro?" You've heard countless stories of your godfather, mostly of his sacrifice and valor. Beyond that, however, you couldn't remember anything besides his heroics. You assume it was to preserve his memory, but you wish you could have heard more of his adventures—not just the man who spilled his blood to become a martyr for his people.

"Si , your Padrino Pedro. He told me to take care of you; all of you. The town, Alma, the triplets," he gave you a smile and ruffled your hair. You whined as his hand ruined the hard work you put into your locks, "...and you, my darling daughter."

You relished the silence that followed after, just staring at the town that soon fell asleep from below. You wonder if this is how your papi felt like every night; peacefully watching from above the community he was protecting. He must love his job as a watchman. Every night he would look over his beloved community from above the mountains, shielding from any harm. You liked the idea of inheriting the title, and you were excited for your papi to teach you everything that he knew.