farewell to the fields | the fifth harker.

chapter one

As the dawn comes into Meadowlark, the shadows around them started to appear beside them. The delicate, old structured lamps began to flicker as they were turned on, creating more shadows above the Larks.

As Perrine sat at the edge of the gathering, their pale fingers were silently tapping made up rhythms on their lap. They were too dazed off to focus on the background noises of the other Larks. Kingsley was too busy creating a mayhem. Cole is just playing with it's ukulele, and the tune and melody they made—it's depressingly beautiful. If that's how you explained it.

And then there's Clémentine.

Clémentine, or Clémmie—aka what they call them. Clémmie was beside Cole, humming a beautiful tune that matches the way Cole plays their ukulele. They have an astonishing voice that could even make a grown man cry.. wait, don't all of them have a beautiful voice that harmonize really well? Yes, it's enough to make a grown man cry but it's not just a grown man. Everyone. Literally Everyone.

As minutes passed by, Kingsley interrupted the peaceful and quiet moment, also Clémentine and Cole's moment (ironic).. Kingsley had just knocked over a stack of wooden crates that immediately made everyone turned their attention to the mess, as well to Kingsley. Perrine winced, snapping out of their daze. Clémmie paused mid-hum, their voice cutting off as they turned to glare at Kinglsey.

"Can you not?" Clémmie huffed in annoyance, and it's clear in their eyes. Cole can notice the way Clémmie glares at Kingsley. It felt a little uncomfortable as they shifted in their place. Cole has never seen Clémmie so annoyed—that it feels like they can't see the same person anymore.

Kingsley shrugged, his broad grin unrepentant. "What? You were all too quiet. I had to wake you up somehow."

"So what if we were too quiet? You could've done it without the theatrics.." Clémmie muttered, as they adjusted their beautifully adorned structured, soft lamb mask that looks very appealing to a human's eye.

Kingsley just sighed sassily in response, as Clémmie put the same sweet smile to Cole as always. Those two always had a thing for each other, and everyone knows it.

As Perrine stood up, their senses tuned to the forest, but were too hesitated to make any decisions. The sounds of Cole's ukulele filled the silence of Meadowlark but not enough to break any.

Cole, however, in their seat, was strumming a few idle notes on their ukulele, as if trying to distract themselves. His usual distant expressions are evident as always. His hands were shaky on the ukulele. Clémmie joined, but the easy harmony they created before was lost. There was an unspoken tension between them, something Kingsley and Perrine had noticed over the past few weeks.

Kingsley, sitting next to the toppled crates, let out a long sigh and shrugged. "Probably nust the wind or some animal. You know at night there's always some weird noises. It's common anyways."

But Perrine wasn't convinced. Neither where the others, even if no one said it out loud.

For a few moments, the silence starts to suffocate them a bit. The atmosphere between them feels awkward. No one dared to say a word. Not because they're some kind of introverted bitch, just ran out of what topics to start a conversation. The lamp flickered overhead, giving them a bits of company.

Cole spoke up, breaking the silence. "You know, my grandmother used to talk about sounds like that," they murmured, it's fingers tracing over the strings of the ukulele. "Said they were warnings. Signs that something's coming." 

Kingsley tilted his head to Cole, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Huh? Warnings?"

"Yeah," Cole continued, lost in thought now. "She used to say thay when the Meadowlark starts to sing, it means something's wrong. Like the world's giving you a heads-up."

Kingsley scoffed. "Sounds like your grandma was trying to scare kids into staying out of the woods at night. All I can say is... monsters are not real. They can't hurt me."

"Mhm. Maybe." Cole didn't smile. Their expressions were always so distant, as if Cole is no longer entirely present to the group, caught in somewhere between the meadow and whatever lay beyond its edges.

Perrine wanted to say something, but the words are all stucked in their throat. It's like you wanted to communicate with the rests but too hestitated to do so. Instead, they glanced at the night sky. As a child, Perrine always counted the stars when they were young.

Till Perrine remembered something.

Over the past weeks, when the Larks thought the show's over, they can still hear the sounds of audience cheering. Perrine was arguing with Kingsley. Cole was too busy with their ukulele. And Clémmie was the one peeking out.

There was something about Clémmie that Perrine didn't quite understand. In the backstage, Clémmie didn't show any signs of anxiety or nervousness. They just stayed calm and composed traits that Perrine don't have. Perrine is still wondering till this day.

"And.. how many people, exactly?" Cole asked, his anxiety evident in his tone.

Clémmie looked back outside and counted the audience. "One.. two..." they'd paused for a moment. "Ten thousand!"

Ten thousand. Those words were like an alarm to the Larks. But Kingsley didn't seem surprised, they just stayed cool and always kept their sassiness. While Perrine and Cole were shocked.

Perrine finally snapped out of their mind and was back to reality as they thought, "I'll never get... used to this. Or if I ever did." The words echoed in the back of their mind. Ten thousand voices cheering for them, and yet they were not alone.

Clémmie shifted uncomfortably beside Cole, brushing a strand of hair behind their ear. "Let's not talk about creepy stuff and warnings.. they scare me a little sometimes." Their tone was soft, soothing and delicate. "I'm sure it's nothing! Maybe we can talk about something else."

"I'm going to grab some firewood," Kingsley said suddenly, as though trying to break tension. "We could use some light out there. And don't forget about the crickets! I need them for dinner."

Without waiting for anyone to press, Kingsley walked away into the woods, leaving the others behind.

Perrine watched them go, their fingers tapping on their lap mindlessly. The wind picked up, carrying it with a silent echo—but the silence is louder, and this time, even Clémmie's hum faltered.