A night without end

The boy from the waves..

Fasi was a refugee. His first memories showed him a mother crying and saying, "To save you my son.. I will have to set you free." The tongue was different from what he spoke today but the meaning was crystal clear. The next images were hazy, many transfer of hands, a rocky raft, an endless sea, hunger, thirst, a big wave.. they got mingled in his mind. 

But even when the big wave was striking all he could see in his mind was a sand storm. He had been adopted and his adoptive family took him to a psychiatrist who explained, he must have seen a Sand storm as a child. His adoptive family with their big heart and limited resources was happy with the solution. Fasi knew he has never seen one as a child as all around his city was water and in the city was high-rise and parks, that was attacked from air. His adoptive parents had marveled at his good scores, at his ability to write and paint and then got confused when he started a businss. They thought he will become a writer. But the stories that he felt within were incomplete, and not his to narrate. He only felt with each passing year the romance of a land, the betrayal of a brother, the sword in his hand bloodied red and a man wounded but still calling out for his beloved for an assurance that she was well. He felt a tongue in his hand.. a tongue that belonged to a voice that will not be silenced. 

Slowly Fasi learnt to close himself from the feeling of guilt of an act he either allowed, ordered or executed, that was caught within the memories of his deepest subconscious. He was not willing to seek help for he feared what he will discover about himself. Despite all the stories her adoptive mother told him of princes rescuing damsels, he knew, he was the evil king or giant or demon. He looked at the smiling faces of his other five siblings in the family and knew he had no place in their happy set up. 

They still grieved that despite all their efforts he preferred his own company to the big , boisterous family.  Fasi who was named David, but insisted that his friends call him Fasi, felt their pain but chose to be alone or with his choice of mismatched friends. Similar people pulled him who had corners of their mind dark or scarred and yet lived in the sunny world as a misfit appearing to fit in. 

His business ventures and love and sponsorship of music took him close to many people, some scarred souls became members of his closest group. But one man remained an enigma. The young and multi talented musical genius Ceasar. Ofcourse Ceasar was his adopted name. His birth was unknown as he was found in the corner of a street on the way to a hill. The way to the hill was too remote for a new born to appear unless he took birth there. Yet who would want to trek through miles of rocky land, no habitation in sight to birth him below the hill that was famed to give the best view to the hidden valley. His cyclist parents who adopted him were not young. They had tried for a baby for years, when they failed they wanted to run away from the cruel world and the prospect that they will now have to adopt. Thy were not keen to, but discovering Ceasar, who was named King seemed predestined. They were not meant to cycle that route, but they missed few turns that took them straight to the valley and not the hill. They - Raven and Miles then fought a little legal battle to first take his foster and then bring him up as their adopted child. 

Ceasar was close to his parents unlike Fasi. He spent all his holidays with them as a sunny young man as he did in his childhood. But Fasi knew much like everything else, it was a face of Ceasar and he had many faces. His complexity came out when he performed, music on his piano or violin or sang.. Fasi saw people acting hypnotised, crying, laughing, smiling, grieving and becoming a projection of whatever emotion Ceasar portrayed that day. There possibly could not be a talent or power greater than that Fasi felt with a slight shiver in his spine. While Ceasar was polite and cordial with Fasi, as he was with most, Fasi saw a glint of steel in his eyes. As if there was unsettled business between them that Ceasar was determined to settle but he was not in a hurry. One of his lyrics said, "hail the one who stuck the sword.. that bled no blood but only gore, hail that one and hold him close, for the sword for them is still in the mold.."

Fasi wanted to ask , " Why?" But in his memories were his dreams of the sandstorm and an act of treason.. against a King.. 

Till suddenly he met Lira through a woman he admired the most. It took Elena some time to trust Fasi to introduce Lira. Lira however loved him from day one. "You remind me of father.." She whispered one day to Fasi making his scarred soul feel complete.. He smiled and said," May be you are my daughter from centuries past.." 

Lira laughed aloud and said, " I do not think so as that man was not very good.." , stopping his casual conversation on track.. " Or may be you are.. you are good as you have learnt goodness, while that man was still lost in himself." 

Then she started humming and images after images flooded Fasi's mind.. like cascades from the desert of sand.. memories that were held by the grains getting loosened by music. Fasi realised, in music if Ceasar was the King..Lira was the angel. Someone whispered softly like gentle caresses in his mind, "Fullfil your destiny.. they must meet.."