186 lines
3.9 KiB
TeX
186 lines
3.9 KiB
TeX
% 2025.12.23-TheBoneFlute\\
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\herosection{The Bone Flute}{chapters/2025.12.23-TheBoneFlute/image/the-bone-flute.jpg}
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\DROPCAP{../../dropcap_c/dropT.png}he flute lay on the altar \\
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in the small chapel,\\
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where it had lain for a long time.
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No one knew who had placed it there.\\
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It was pale and smooth, \\
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neither wood nor stone.\\
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Some said it was bone, \\
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though of what creature no one could say.\\
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It was not locked away.\\
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It was not marked.\\
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Most people passed it without noticing.
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One evening, \\
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a man named Eldritch noticed.
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The day had been heavy, \\
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and he did not know where else to go.\\
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He sat for a while.\\
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After some time, \\
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he picked up the flute.\\
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He noticed an inscription in an ancient script, \\
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worn almost smooth with age: \\
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``Something given.\\
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Something taken.''
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``Curious,'' he thought, \\
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and played a single note.
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It was not a melody.\\
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It was barely a sound.
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An old woman who had been sitting nearby \\
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with her head in her hands lifted her face.\\
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Her breathing eased.\\
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She stayed a while longer, \\
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then rose and left.
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Eldritch set the flute back on the altar and went home.
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The next night, he returned.
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This time there was a child with cramps.\\
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When Eldritch played, \\
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the child slept.
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People noticed.\\
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Eldritch did too.
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He found himself coming back, \\
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not always intending to.\\
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He learned how some notes steadied breath, \\
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and others eased pain.
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And in time, \\
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he noticed the cost.
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After playing, \\
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he grew tired in a way rest did not mend.\\
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His hands shook.\\
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His sleep shortened.\\
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When the elders suggested he should stop, \\
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he did not answer at once.
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``This just costs someone,'' he said finally.
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He continued.
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He played for children \\
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whose bodies burned with fever.\\
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For the old, \\
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when dying was too hard.\\
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For those whose pain \\
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had made living unbearable.
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He did not count how often.\\
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He only noticed that lifting the flute \\
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required more care than it once had.
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One winter, \\
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pain came and stayed.\\
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The flute lay within reach.
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People came and sat with him.\\
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No one asked him to play.
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One evening, a child — \\
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not ill — \\
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sat beside the bed.
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``Why don't you use it?'' the child asked.
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The man looked at the flute.
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``It would help,'' he said.
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``Then why not?''
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``Because,'' he said gently, \\
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``it does not help in that way.''
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After a long silence, the child asked, \\
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``If you had known, \\
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would you have kept playing the flute?''
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Eldritch paused, then smiled.
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That night, \\
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when the room was empty \\
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and the lamps had burned low,\\
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Eldritch lifted the flute once more.
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He did not play what he had played for others.\\
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He played a single, low note.
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The pain loosened.\\
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The fear softened.\\
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His body rested.
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In the morning, the flute lay beside the bed.\\
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Eldritch did not wake.
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\medskip
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The village buried him without song.\\
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No one could have led it.
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They returned the flute to the altar.
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For a long time, \\
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it lay untouched.
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Life went on.
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Then one evening, \\
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a mother came with her child.\\
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The child's breathing was shallow, \\
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each breath an effort.\\
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The woman stood before the altar \\
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for a long time before lifting the flute.
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She played one note.
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It was enough.
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Weeks later, \\
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a man came whose wife had not slept in days.\\
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He played with trembling hands.\\
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When he returned the flute, \\
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he stood in the doorway for a long while \\
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before he could walk home.
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The flute remained on the altar.
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No one guarded it.\\
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No rule was made.\\
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People took it only \\
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when they could not do otherwise.\\
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No one played it twice.
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Until one winter evening, someone did.
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Ronan.
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One night he had come home late \\
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and found the house empty and blackened.\\
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His family perished.\\
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Lost, \\
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he now stood before the altar \\
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for a long time before lifting the flute.
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He played.\\
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And he kept on playing.
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He learned the notes.\\
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He did not ask what they would cost — \\
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he had heard the stories, \\
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and seen the words on the flute.
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The flute did not choose its keepers.
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It just waited.
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