Finding Contentus

Chapter 159: Heart-to-Head

When he woke, Gene said, that's new, and it was most certainly new, with Mantso carrying him as she leaped through the purple-bruised sky.

Each stride created windstorms powerful enough to keep her in constant motion, as if she were running or swimming in the air.

"Since when?"

"Since recently. I've been studying the Dudus," Mantso said by way of explanation. "They like to tease us, you know? Acting all high and mighty, flapping their electric wings. Little do they know that you don't need wings to enter the realm of flight."

Genesia righted himself into a sitting position, crossing his arms, being blasted by the strong current that threw his hair back. He turned in the opposite direction.

"Kenosi and Maneo went the other way," Mantso said.

His expression hardened. "And Papa?"

"He wanted to stay for a little while longer. He mentioned something about bringing Ramsis along. A Dudu is probably fetching him."

For more sightseeing? Gene wondered, looking at the world below and making draft maps, lining the multitude of unnamed territories, divided by the spaces between land and water that the primals infested.

If only there was a way to pacify them. He thought sullenly.

Then a loving sound infiltrated his cardiovascular system out of nowhere.

"Geney."

Time came to a screeching halt. The world around him disappeared. The only tangible thing he could feel was Mantso's body heat, and the only sensation he succumbed to were the plants blooming across his skin.

Genesia put a hand over his beating heart as if pledging his allegiance to the newfound call. He held that position for what felt like decades.

"Geney."

God and Gods. That call. There was music in it. Beautiful music. No. That didn't sound good enough. How could he accurately describe it?

Lovely.

Yes. Though even that didn't do enough justice in his opinion. He doubted anything would. The call seemed to swell inside him, multiplying, fluttering like a legion of intoxicated butterflies after having too much nectar. The hairs on his body prickled like thorns from red roses spiking out of him, craving physical touch by any means, even if it meant drawing blood.

"Geney?"

An inviting call this time like an outstretched arm, a duet that remained incomplete without his reciprocation and contribution. He felt himself being charmed by the musical call, akin to air being blown into his lungs, grass being moved by the wind, or a cobra being hypnotised by a pungi. Or a Genie being allured out of its lamp by a flute. By a... ney.

A smile more luminous than the ghostly moon highlighted his face before he could prevent its shine. How nice of her to come up with that. No wonder she calls you sweetheart.

It would be rude of him not to reply, wouldn't it? The frequency kept increasing exponentially. No doubt the tones had been travelling for an indefinite amount of time to an empty audience, receiving no reaction or response. But how could he reply? He no longer had a working mouth, or air to push the words out. They were too far apart in any case. The electromagnetic boost from Mootlakeng had already faded.

He looked down at the source in pure wonderment, beating on his chest. The woman was calling him from there. Directly. Tugging at his heartstrings. Literally.