whEn it still endures
The breeze of dawn broke through Abanir’s face when he woke up from the same vibrant dream of Sophia. It was cold but it was Sophia’s face that kept him warm.
Clearing his vision, he found himself sitting at the bed of the nest where Sophia was treated by Shamante, their tribe’s healer.
It had been days since he had often woken up that way, and every day of Sophia’s absence just made his heart grow fonder. He went back to the moment they had their first eye-to-eye and imagined Sophia was right in front of him—with this face so innocent yet so alluring.
Abanir was so wrapped up with memories. He didn’t even realize the sun had already climbed to the mountains, and he was still there, sitting on the same bed, his thoughts floating with the early breeze.
Then, he decided to visit the lake house—the first and last place where he saw Sophia. He refused to believe that there was still no sign of Sophia’s presence there.
Yet, his longing never waned, and anxiously reared stronger. Wilder. More powerful.
He stopped by the exact place where he landed Sophia, where he conveyed his affection to her through a steadfast kiss, even before he went back to Kravena to battle.
He remembered the scent of their first kiss. The kiss that strengthened and helped him to stand against the united enemy tribes.
Then Abanir looked at the lake house afresh, and couldn’t believe how he missed the human so much. He had never felt that way before: desiring so much for someone out of his reach.
He flew to Harem Falls and noticed that the plain kubot, where he spent the night with Sophia, was still there. He landed and sat on the fallen tree that he turned into a bench, and remembered how he offered Sophia something to eat. He walked farther and watched the falling water. There it resounded with the melody he had hummed before her, along with the flower of the dama-dama he gave to her (before Rabel rushed to them, relaying the presence of their enemies in their territory—which now began the great battle).
With a sigh, Abanir knew that the dama-dama flower slipped out of Sophia’s hand, when he brought her back to the lake house, for her safety. At that memory, he wished the fallen flower didn’t mean she’d already forgotten him.
How he missed the human so much! Looking up to the brightening sky, Abanir knew his beloved was with her fellow humans now, probably with her family, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if she ever felt the same thing for him, if she was thinking of him, too.
I miss you, Abanir spoke to himself and collected his fists tightly. Are you coming back?
In a blink of an eye, Rabel, from the sky, was coming to join him. As usual, Rabel was there looking for him.
“I knew you would be here,” Rabel told Abanir, his face showing fatigue and worry.
“Yes, Rabel. Join me with my rumination of the human you warned me of.”
“You really miss her, don’t you?”
Eyes down, Abanir nodded, “Yes, Rabel. I really do. I miss her but… she’s in her own, different world now. And I—I don’t know what to do.” His confession was overly touching.
“You’re right. She’s in her own, different world now. With all due respect, My Raha, you need to let go of her, now…” Rabel then offered his unsolicited opinion.
Abanir fell into silence. His hakaro’s feedback was too excruciating to handle. But he was right! He was just so achingly right! But it was killing Abanir!
“Let’s go back to the tribe now.” Abanir then put forward, yearning to escape the truth. He did not want to look weak. He had always been strong on anything. Hard on anything. But it was Sophia who made him soft and weak—and he admitted that there was something he couldn’t take control of: love.
Arriving at Kravena, Reyna Kaya saw them and reminded them of the upcoming thanksgiving, after their restoration from their enemies. But Reyna Kaya saw her son’s sorrow and went to ask him.
“My son, you were able to defeat the two tribes. So what depresses you?” She asked.
Abanir looked at his mother steadily, his eyes revealing pining.
“Is this because of the human?” Reyna Kaya drew closer. She felt she needed to bring out those finest and most comforting words of a mother.
Abanir did not speak. His silence merely meant yes to Reyna Kaya.
“My son, she is a world apart. I need you to understand that.” Reyna Kaya began telling. To make him understand. To wake him up to reality and truth. “I don’t want you to be hurt, My son. While it’s still early, I need you to forget that human. You have to.”
Those words tore at Abanir’s heart. He was flung upside down. “Mother, the thing is… it’s too late, already. I have fallen in love with that human and I can’t… I can’t just forget her. I just can’t.” Abanir bowed down his head, gripping his hands tighter and tighter—he had to, or else he’d explode at any moment. All he ever wanted were to fill his eyes with Sophia’s presence, fill his lungs with her scent, fill his mind with the sights of the night they spent at the Harem falls and the sounds of her laugh when he ascended with her into the air.
It was crushing Reyna Kaya, and she was now desperate to find ways to make her son realize that this desire for the human was venomous. Not just to him, but also to his family and race. She needed to make Abanir focus on the tribe, especially now that they have to be vigilant against the surprises of enemies.
Reyna Kaya decided to be more considerate then, and thought that perhaps, in the succeeding days, her son would finally wake up and realize that he was just not for the human world, and nor was she fit for his Vangkekan world.