Hiraeth |✔

When the rain gushed in

Please note: If you have lost track of the storyline since it has been a month-long gap, please read the ending of the previous chapter to have a glimpse of past events.

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Multiple gasps stretched across the room, each louder than the last one. The east wind flared the crowd gathered around Trar's house, sending the shimmering ribbons limping in the air.

"Intruders! Woah, it is such a feat to steal from your hosts who sheltered you. Well performed, you thieves." After a second of jerking his jaw down, Trar continued, "and look! This fellow, holding my stolen jacket!"

Opeul was squeezed in as the crowd outside increased to witness a crime nobody dared to do- no, not even in their wildest dreams.

"Explain, we..well, I am stoked enough  not to decipher this just by looking at it!" Opeul's voice echoed in the almost empty room.

Zen and Scarlett stared dumbly. What explanation can we give? How do we claim this jacket to be ours? How can we reason for breaking into this house? They tried to draw words from an empty well. Their marred hearts could launch no words to explain their offence.

"The guilty either chatter rubbish in an attempt to mask his crime or dries their mouth with silence. The innocent knows his words. You seem to choose silence, huh?" Opeul questioned.

Outside, the islanders climbed coconut trees, peering into the room through the small ventilation holes and some nosy ones even climbed on the thatched roof. A young man held something of a whiteboard, drawing ink onto it- imprisoning the crime scene perfectly in his cloth canvas.

Scarlett lost words of defence as she was soaked in fear. She saw Opeul's face tighten up every second. A feeling of betrayal etched on his rough face. A sharp sword of humiliation stuck them both as they shuddered in his sizzling sight

"An excellent model, wasn't he?- Reso? I thought you knew the extreme laws against theft." Opeul turned towards the crowd huddled around, "wasn't his execution enough punishment to never again steal?!" This line he screamed with all his might.

"You know what to do!" Opeul yelled at his people as he strode out, yanking his robe all along the way. "I had warned you of these foreigners before, Opeul! They eat our food first and later our lives!" Trar screamed at the figure moving away.

Scarlett fixed her eyes on Zen, who was a few feet away. Zen didn't dare to move his gaze anywhere away from the floor. He heard a muted whisper, "tell him the truth!" It was Scarlett who said this.

"Like he is going to believe us." He nipped his words like he will be never again speaking them.

Zen saw Scarlett standing on the verge of defeat. A woman so strong shattering before his eyes. He saw her step back, actions of a human giving up.

Scarlett perched back, stomping her feet on the suspicious area, draining her foot pressure on it. For people outside it seemed like a manifestation of her frustration.
Two men immediately crossed their hands behind their backs, thrusting them into the crowd.

Through their clogged vision they saw flags of different shades of black hoisted. The kids stole a look at the young humans who now were termed as 'foreign criminals'. Low whispers fell flat as a loud going went off in the far corner of the island. Some islanders scooped empathy in their eyes, while the others, particularly the older ones burnt them with stares forged in rage. Men holding whips and bows escorted them in the front while men with the sternest face pulled their bows as if preparing for an unheard battle.

"Scar! Speak up. I can't feel my body!" Zen blew those little words, his creaked voice disappeared even before it reached Scarlett. Scarlett dipped her eyes in the wet sand, her neck craned down as she pulled the right corner of her lips high up A position she builds up when she is digging into her brain.