Love Me for Eternity || Bruno Madrigal

Chapter 31: The Man Who Saved Us, Felipe Contreras

There was a slight shift to the late night air, the crickets silencing their orchestrated melodies upon the high moon's glare. A hush ensued, the breeze stopped, the leaves muting their fluttering lullabies.

There, that sound; cantering hooves followed by a pained whinny, muffled curses of fiendish savages, and the undeniable sounds of metal meeting metal. You immediately blew your candle, staying true to the dirt path that your father had laid out for you. You looked up to the sky in silent prayer, O Dios, o Jesucristo, protect our home from the hands of murderers.

A few moments go as you count your breath—inhale. one, two, three, exhale—not a sound to be made by the passing wildlife as they pass by the mountain refuge. Their voices dimmed, growing softer and softer as the seconds ticked by until you were sure they were gone from the proximity of the pass. You sighed in relief as the crickets resumed their nightly chirping, and the leaves continued to dance with the fresh night breeze.

You yelped in fright when a hand placed itself on your shoulder. You instinctively whipped your eskrima sticks out from your back, brandishing them in front of your attacker. You poised to strike overhead, but wood met wood and echoed through the jungle expanse.

"Relax, mijita. It's just me,"

Mateo smiled sheepishly while holding up his own eskrima stick in his one hand. He looked you over at your block and jutted his foot out just enough to widen your footing at an angle. You huffed and retreated your stance, sheathing your weapons to your back. Your father followed suit. The oil lamp lay by your feet from your surprise, so you picked it up and lit up the lonely candle with a match you always carried.

"Your form could use a little work."

"And you could be a little less stealthy when you want to sneak up on me in the middle of patrol." You sighed as the wicker flickered. He could only laugh and pat you on the shoulder.

"Los siento, I didn't mean to surprise you like that—but it's time for you to go back home," your father had seemed to notice your nerves as he gave you a thorough glance. He looked up to the mountain and rested his eyes up the peak, sighing through his nose. "Their patrols have become less frequent. In a few years, I reckon they'll stop entirely. Even if they do continue with their rounds, the magic will keep us safe, so don't worry. They'll have a hard time even finding the mountains."

You raised a brow, dusting some grass that clung to your skirt. "I've been meaning to ask you, how are you so sure that they won't even find us? I mean, inconspicuous mountain ranges, literally circling us like a plateau—it's impossible to miss us."

He placed a gentle hand on the small of your back and guided you back to casa Madrigal, taking your time and savoring the quietude of the lush foliage. "Remember when you climbed up the mountains?"

"How could I forget?" You cringed. Your breath hitched at the mention of that day, but you learned how to regulate your breathing and let those thoughts pass mindlessly in the back of our head. Your eyes lingered on his missing arm, but he quickly hid it from your view and nudged you forward.

"When we tried to climb back up again, it's as if my mind was hazy. Looking back, I couldn't remember much of what the mountain even looked like from the outside."

You thought back to the incident, evading the dark memories about... just about the violence altogether. Everything that happened down the base was clear as day, but despite your vivid memory, you couldn't remember what the mountain looked like when you looked up. Your mind is covered in a sort of fog—like there parts that were obscured from your mind. You remembered how you almost slipped from the whiplash of that haze, but you managed to persevere and bring your papi up with you to the peak. Looking back, you couldn't believe you even heaved up your father who was twice your weight. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe your fear, your determination to live; who knows.