The Beetle's Song

I'm in love. In love with the song of the heavens, the wind in the trees, and trickling of the brook. But most of all, I'm in love with Crescendo. His arms are smooth and strong. His hands thick and warm. But it's his song – yes, his song – that's most beautiful to me. It's ever growing in intensity, every note building upon the other, until it reaches a pinnacle of perfection you never though possible. Still it grows, weaving in, weaving out, till there's a thousand tender strands woven into his song. That's how it always builds until he touches me. When our hands are interwoven, his song stops altogether, like he's pausing for a breath, and I know he's listening to mine – he told me so.

Mine is like a war, he says. Like the clash of beda-beetles on the front lines. Like a chaotic 

cacophony of melodies colliding. I ask him, “Is it pretty?”

“I like it,” he says. “You've many thoughts a tumbling around in your head.”

“And that's a good thing?”

“Yes, it means you think.”

Yes, I do think. Too much Mama says. But my thoughts won't sit still even under the strongest meditation. It makes my beda-bug feisty. She buzzes and flits beside my ear, tickling every hair till I brush her away. She'd make a good battle bug, Papa insists, but I don't want to go to battle. I don't want to fight the Pain-Bringers. They don't have songs. You never know one is behind you until you hear a twig snap. Then it's too late. Pain shoots into your eyes, a place you never feel.

..........................

Beda thread her way through the wood, here ears attentive and alert. Lady buzzed past her right ear and led the way, flitting back and forth between the trees. 

Lady, wait! Beda's bare foot caught on something sharp, and she fell to the ground. Twigs crunched under her weight. Beda cradled her aching wound. 

Bzz-bzzzz! Lady landed on the girl's nose.

Beda swatted the beetle away. "Patience, girl!" she growled through clenched teeth.

Bzz-bzzz! We haven't got much time.

"I know, but I can't very well walk on a hurting foot." Beda's fingers slid across her foot, feeling for abrasions in the skin.

You will have to learn to fight with much more than a hurt foot in the war.

"I know, I don't want to think about it."

You will have to soon enough.

Beda sighed and pushed herself off the ground. She grimaced as pain shot up leg. 

Lady tickled here cheek. There you go. Hurry now. The Uncles and Aunts won't wait for you!

Right. Beda took a deep breath. "Lead on."

Lady buzzed on ahead of her, humming an all too familiar tune. The war will come, O children rise. Defend the Father's holy land. Let our notes reach high and true, perfect songs to break all doom.

Beda ignored the notes of the song and focused on the buzzing of Lady's wings.

"Beda." The girl felt an hand on her arm and squealed.

"Peace, Beda," the voice spoke again. "It's just me. Didn't you hear my song?"

"Crescendo." Beda exhaled. "I'm sorry, I was focused on Lady."

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings."

"I know, I was just in a hurry. Have the sessions started?"

"Yes, but your name has not been called yet. Come, let's go." Crescendo grabbed here arm, his beetle now leading the way. Beda leaned close to him, trying to calm her thudding heart. She felt the trees fade away and open air rushed her face. In the distance, she could hear a thousand songs intermingled in the town square.

"Something is wrong." Beda shivered as she interpreted the frantic notes of the music.

Her friend spoke in a hushed voice. "I think now they have called your name."

Lady zipped angrily around Beda's face. "I'm going, I'm going!" Beda sprinted for the square, grimacing again as pain shot up her foot.


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Well, this is a very rough draft of the beginning of a story I've been tossing around in my head for about a year now. What I want to do with this story is just a bit difficult. If you don't mind, I'd like a little feedback so I know whether I got a few things across clearly or not.

First, did you understand that these characters cannot see, but rather they rely on their beetles to tell them where to go?

Also, is it clear that each person has a unique song by which they communicate feelings and personality?

Do you want to read more?

Oh and my title has nothing to do with the old music group...I just haven't come up with a better title yet :)