3

"Raki, can you help wash the dishes after dinner?" his big brother Zaki says, before chowing down on the roasted ham on the plate. ("Mmhuh--")

"Sure.."

The 14-year old Raki usually doesn't mind the chore – it's a few minutes of rinsing the porcelain in the water buckets, and then it's off into the night to enjoy the theatre, or to play soccer with the other kids, or whatever might catch his fancy. Until it's nighttime, and then he has to come back home to Zaki. With Summers, it seems like the evenings can go on forever.

Four years ago, they'd lost both their parents to the witch. A risky walk through the forests, in which to gather ginseng root to brew celebratory tea for the lunar harvest.

And then his pere, after tripping upon an exposed tree root, he cursed her name – "Damn Maleficent. A plague on her when she dies!"

And then Raki saw it; it was as if the forest vines had heard his pere's words, and they wrapped themselves around his mere and pere's ankles, up to their torsos, upon which their flesh was instantaneously flayed with ten times the venom that was present in his pere's tone.

After, Raki was crying for his parents' loss, while Zaki swore a hard vengeance against the dark witch of the woods, and vowed to protect his only remaining family – his petite brother Raki. Never letting Raki out of his sight, never letting him venture into the darkness alone.

Maleficent.. you're never supposed to utter her name in vain. It's a superstition that Raki's heard ever since he was very young – that there's a witch who inhabits the forest beside the city of Gaumont, who takes the lives of those who dare venture into her territory. But his pere said it was just a scary myth, like religion, and he'd never had trouble getting into the forest to gather rare fruits and ingredients. He'd even shouted out her name with all his breath, and nothing happened. Until..

And since recently, it's been rumoured that she's somehow listening in to people's conversations here. Because the mayor of the city found his precious erotic art collection (stashed in his home's cellar) torn to bits after confessing its existence to his wife. As if they'd been pecked by the crow who'd been perched upon their windowsill, that the mayor tried in vain to shoo away, but was too tired in his bed – him still remembering the black bird's ill gaze, even to this day. (There's absolutely no way his wife could have done it; she seemed very happily interested about it.)

People had heard his cries of terror the following morning. He sounded just like an opera singer, even when he declared the crows outlawed, by the very same intuition that helped the farmers double their crop yields by way of a clever mandate.

And so, people have associated the crows that have been noticably appearing with the likes of Maleficent, and what they'd do is stare coldly back at the perched crows, remaining silent as to not slip out a careless utterance, until the crows fly away somewhere else. Or more productively, they'd hit and pelt the crows to death, and skin off their feathers for fabric, and have their bodies cooked as a delicacy of the province. A dead crow is a good crow.

Raki thinks it's like a silly religion – instead of Jesus and the Holy Trinity, you have Maleficent and her forest with her crows. Even though what he saw that day.. the mangled bodies of his parents, who'd once hold him when he feels sad, or tuck him in at bed and read him the wonderous faerytales..

Who is this Maleficent anyway? What does she look like? That's one of the things he always wonders about, whenever his attention isn't preoccupied by anything else – like being pestered by Zaki about the dishes, or other such petite things.

Gosh, it can get annoying. But Raki knows his older brother is the type of person to compulsively worry about anything – as if to make up for the lack of parents now, Zaki is trying to be an adult, much too soon.

So to put his brother's worries at rest, Raki fetches the water from his home's well, and scrubs the few dinner dishes with the soap, and puts them away sparkling clean.

Right now, it is the month of August. The last few days, before September, and the fall season truly kicks in. That's when Raki has to attend schooling again, with these long sessions of sitting in a room, doodling on the parchment pages while the old teachers would recite the multiplication table, or the Ten Commandments of the Bible as applied in hypothetical situations.

He's never cared for school much, other than that it seems necessary to attend, and pass all the tests in order to become an educated, respectable citizen at the age of 16.

What is out there, besides what everyone already knows?

Such as Maleficent. To him, it's.. what kind of a name is Maleficent anyway? It actually seems beautiful, that name, and it's not very often that anyone gets to be named that, so far as he can tell.

She is a mystery. Even though she is the one responsible for depriving him of his mere and pere. As far as he knows, nobody has really seen her up close and in person yet. Or they have, but none have lived to tell the tale.

A mystery – like how Raki has visited the forest for the first (and only time) with his family, and he felt a very different atmosphere, the air humming with interest and wonder, sunlight straying through the shadowy leaves. Or when Leonardo of Vinci went and toured his newest painting of La Gioconda (Mona Lisa), and Raki saw on the petite canvas the alluring glance and smile of the woman, which seemed so plain and hypnotic at the same time, for what could she be smiling about? Someone asked Leonardo that, and he only answered enigmatically, "Something that's not on the canvas."

Hm. Maybe Raki should make a glance, and have someone famous paint him, and then he could be famous too! Hehe.

/

Sometimes, it gets stifling to even be in the same house, the same room as Zaki – unfortunately. There are times when Zaki's worryings get too much, and it's almost like you can't breathe properly, or do anything lest you set off one of Zaki's 'tripwires,' where you even so much as look at him funny, and Zaki would go on a tirade of all his grievances, and pressure you into house cleaning, or studying, or just keeping your noise down to a teeny-tiny whisper, while Zaki is trying to catch up on his sleep.

It is one night, when Raki could not stand it anymore, that he heads out the house with his jacket and some money, and all the lamps in the streets are lit in their amber glow – hoping to find an inn to stay overnight, until it cools down back at home.

Raki tried bringing up the subject of having some breathing room from each other. Yeah, we're brothers, and we're all we've got, but you can be so grabby and pushy when you're around – maybe it's something like if you have a girlfriend, and she's like that..

Maybe it's nice if it's your girlfriend Zaki – but for me, I just want a break from all your worrying.

And Zaki flared up, like he's offended. "So you want to make bad decisions on your own?! What you've asked of me is totally unreasonable! I'm your older brother, and it's my responsibility to look after the both of us! I work my ass off almost every day, so the food is on the table, and we can keep this house! If it were up to you, this house would have been sold off to somebody else, and we'd be cast off in the orphanages! Do you want that to happen? Do you!????"

"I'm 14-years old now!" Raki said. "I'm not the little boy you've grown used to! I think it's about time I have some say in this house! You never let me do anything.."

"I know you Raki. You like to daydream, and look at the pretty girls on your spare time. But life isn't easy. It's never easy. I figured that out ever since Mama and Papi died by that witch. It's an uphill struggle that you have to put in effort for, every day. And do I see you apply yourself? You can be such a lazy bum at times.. and it's mainly when I tell you to do useful things that I see you growing up into a real man."

Raki's hands clench. "If that's what it means to grow up, turning into a dipshit, then I refuse to. Let me stay a young child for my entire life, so that I can cherish what happiness I can feel." Many adults seem grumpy, because maybe they too grow to see life like Zaki does. A series of obligations to do everyday.

"You want to be like a hapless child?" Zaki went. "Put everything on my shoulders while you go play off with your toys? Does that seem even remotely fair to you!?"

"It's not like you'll ever see me outside of being such.. I'm just a young child to you, and nothing more. And that's why I want space from you. I want to breathe away from your presence. When you're around.. I feel trapped. I can't do anything without your approval."

".. is that how it is..?" Zaki said. "So this house is like your prison, and I'm your warden? That's the way you choose to see it?"

"I can't see it any other way. Do you want me to tell you that I've cherished every moment I'm able to freely be myself, away from you? To choose how I'm able to act or not act around people, to pick if I'm going to have a snack with my pocket money, or buy a new figurine.. I make my own choices, and I do make mistakes – but it's how I learn, instead of being told all the time what's supposed to be right."

"Then leave!" Zaki pointed at the door. "May you make your own mistakes, alone in the dark! Beg on people's doors for shelters, and go starve to death! I don't need a brother who resents me and my efforts!"

There was no reasoning with his big brother, so Raki finds the chill of the night refreshing – although all the anger back from just then, all the pent-up resentment and unhappiness, it still lingers in his heart like a bad stomachache, and he hopes that by morning tomorrow, he'll be feeling better to decide where to go, what to do on his own.

He could cheer up people – he could be like one of the street clowns who dances and pulls off silly routines for a living. That is one option.

Or.. what else might he be good at? He could try cooking food – it doesn't seem that hard, seeing his brother do it all the time. Just mix in ingredients, and stir it right on the fire.. he could be one of the chefs at the restaurants..

It's a bit tiring to think – it is around the time when he would be blowing out the candles in his room, sheltered in his warm blankets.

Raki has almost forgotten the light of the amber lamps; how it is to not have to fear the night, made so forbidden. When his Papi takes him on walks around the street for fresh air. The streets look very different than by daylight, where few people are still walking about – mostly the alert patrolmen.

He looks at the buildings, hoping that one of them is an inviting inn – walking briskly, lest he'd be forced to sleep outdoors like a homeless person. (Well, he is a homeless person now.)

He's not going to knock on just anyone's door, hoping that they'll have the kindness to help shelter him, even if just for one night. Most of the buildings – they're either homes, or they're shops or service buildings, and they're all dark on the inside, or dimly lit. They must be all asleep, and it's sorta rude to awaken someone if it isn't an emergency, like a fire.

So Raki finds the inn of the Prancing Pony, and inside, it is still warm and jovial with the noise of men and women talking, but mostly just the men getting drunk on another game of chips. Raki feels like this could be a friendly crowd, but at the same time, he is such an outsider – and he's feeling weary for a room at the moment, so he asks the innkeeper for one,

and after paying 7 francs, Raki is led to the cheapest available one-person room, where it's just a quilt bed and a wooden desk with the candlelamp, which the innkeeper is kind enough to light for him.

But even though the bed is invitingly soft, and Raki has taken off his socks and shoes, he is still awake an hour later – the noise of the rowdy people neverending, and above all, the thoughts of his own future beyond Zaki.

Certainly, he'll have to be struggling to make a stable living, with maybe little free time left to do the fun things. And worse yet, he'll have to see Zaki again on the streets, or Zaki's buddies or his girlfriend – and avoid eye contact.

He could never go back home.

Has their argument really gotten that serious?

When out of the midst of noise, Raki hears his brother's distinctive drawl: "Excuse me, have you seen my brother? He has short brown hair, and looks like me, but shorter.."

Merde! Zaki must have been looking all over for him – maybe he's feeling sorry, and really couldn't imagine living without him.

"Yeah, I signed him into a room not too long ago. Why?"

"Non.." Raki mutters to himself. I'm anxious about making it on my own – but I don't want to go back, if it means having to be suffocated by his worries, his burdens.. everything.

He sees out the window, the lit streets, and it's big enough for him to fit through and escape. So hastily, as he hears footsteps approaching, Raki fits his socks and shoes on, and he bolts out the window, snagging his pants on a loose fitting and tearing the fabric – just as the door to his room opens, and Zaki is exclaiming to the innkeeper, "Are you shitting me man? There's nobody here!"

Raki is panting, hiding just out of view by the window, as he listens in to the ensuing conversation.

"I checked him out in this room--" the innkeeper goes. "The ledger is signed.. I think he must have gone. He heard you probably. Seems like he doesn't want to come back with you."

"I don't believe this!" Zaki exclaims. Then he shouts, "Raki--! If you can hear me, please – come back home! It's not safe out there! I'm not giving up on looking for you!"

"You're such a devoted brother.." the innkeeper goes.

"It's what being a brother is all about. We might have our ups and downs, but no matter what, he's my little brother, and I have to look out for his well-being."

Raki can look out for himself! He scuttles away from the inn, before Zaki gets back outside. He's got to find a safe spot to hide away from his brother's concerns, and that means not going out to an inn, or a shelter. Those obvious places to look for him.

So where can he hide?

Raki sees a patrolman kicking a sleeping bum on the street awake – "You're not allowed to sleep out here. Go find a shelter, or at least an alleyway where we won't see you."

Suddenly, the city is a foreboding place – unwelcoming, with seemingly no options to hide away from his brother's reach. If Raki tries to tell someone, like a city offical about wanting to find his own place.. it's not like a marriage where you can divorce your partner because you've decided the relationship isn't worth it. It's your close family, and they'll want to return him to Zaki, because..

what is he if not a child under Zaki's legal guardianship?

Then he thinks of getting out of the city. And then go where? Anywhere but here..

Raki's coat has a hood on it, which he puts on to make himself look like one of those wandering travellers, and he heads for the South gate of the kingdom walls – the only gate that has its portcullis open, this late at night.

There, he is questioned by the guards at the post, asking him what his business is, travelling out of the city.

"I.." Raki goes. "I'm just heading back home.. it was a nice stay here."

The guards check his person, to make sure he isn't actually a would-be thief stealing valuables. Raki only has the few coins on him, so at last, the guards let him go, and Raki finds the outside wilderness so dark in the night.

Damn, he should have brought a lamp or something, because all he has is just the light emanating from within the city.

And..

Something catches Raki's eye; in the distance, the forest seems to be luminiscent, although the fact isn't apparent until after his eyes have adjusted to the vast darkness.

It is the same forest where Maleficent must be residing, where his parents have died.

It is aglow with a faint cyan and magenta from within, and seeing how there isn't anything else to go for in the wilderness, Raki makes his way to the boundaries of the trees, a lost person looking for anything that is remotely inviting.

And once he is amidst the luminescent trees, Raki feels like he has stepped into a different plane of existance altogether. The crisp scent of pine and wildlife brings back his memories of that time, when his Pere dared to show his family how this Maleficent is just a sham, and failed with his and his wife's lives.

But it looks different – as the streets seem more gloomier and lonely in night's darkness, the trunks and roots seem alive with the flow of soilwater, the leaves inhaling and exhaling the air with a noticable sigh, like you'd see breath visible in Winter's season.

Raki is fascinated now with this strange environment. He almost stumbles upon an exposed root, and sees by the ground the ferns that waver in his presence, as if they're attracted to his warmth. (At first, he mistakes them for some kind of glowing worms, with bristles.)

He hears the croak of a toad, and comes across a lake, with its still surface nearly perfectly mirroring everything above and around it.

Then a breeze blows, and the lake shimmers, and Raki sees in the distance some red smoke. The smoke which billows from the other side of the lake, and the faintest flicker of a bonfire.

There must be someone else here; and Raki immediately thinks of Maleficent – all the paintings and sketches of her that he's seen, showing her as a looming shadowy figure, thorned vines blooming from her feet and flaying her poor victims, from what accounts have been made from the few survivors who've seen her acts first-hand.

His heart freezes. He is on the verge of finding her, to see her with his very own eyes.

As he is wandering around the lake's perimeter, towards the bonfire, he is filled with a mixture of apprehension (he could be flayed any second) and desire – the feeling of exploring something new, like an adventurer. He notices how the smoke is reflected as a bright violet on the lake.

Eventually, he's at the bonfire, where a black cauldron is boiling an effervescent mixture of somethings, and he gazes around – it seems nobody is here, but there's wooden counters with cups and ingredients, like it is a kitchen out in the open.

Raki wonders what is boiling, and he turns his head over the cauldron, wafting the smoke to his nose – it smells very.. it's like an exotic soup, salty meats with the fruity blueberries, with a heavy dose of spiciness.

He reels from the intense scent, and he stumbles onto his back, his hood pulling away, where he sees Maleficent. She's been standing behind him all along!

"Bonjour.. my stranger," she goes, and she tends to the boiling cauldron, stirring it lightly so it doesn't congeal.

Raki's face is frozen with panic, the sweat coming down his neck, and he's gazing, paralysed as he expects Maleficent to do something that would result in his sudden death, or at least, extreme pain.

But she just looks at him, her eyes studying, and he sees her green irises glowing in the dark, while the flickering light of the flames dance contours over her.

Then she kneels down, so she's eye to eye with him. "What's your name, boy?"

"Erm.. uhmm. Raki.."

"And I've frightened you, oui?"

"Yes.. you have.." He scratches his bum, getting some pieces of dry leaves off.

"Did I frighten you because.." She pauses, her finger to her lips. "I've surprised you? Because the forest can be quite eerie at night.. or, was it because you already know who I am?"

A beat, where Raki strives to recollect himself.

"I won't bite you," she tells him.

"I know who you are.." he goes. "You're Maleficent."

She nods. "Yes. That is me. And what have the good townsfolk been saying about me? Did they tell you that I am the wicked witch of the forest? I indiscriminately kill whoever ventures here? That I ought to be feared and loathed if you have every sense of decency in your heart?"

"All of that.." Raki says, a bit taken aback by how she already knows.

"I will tell you what I know is absolutely true.." She offers him a hand, and he takes it – they stand up. "I will not lie to you, Raki. I have killed many people over the years."

"You've murdered my parents.." Raki says.

"I think.. when was that?"

"Four years ago," Raki goes, the memory of their deaths bringing bitterness to him. "You flayed my mere and pere. I could still smell the fresh blood from their bodies.."

"Oh. How? Was it the vines?"

"Yes."

"If I did, then I probably haven't seen them, or you." Maleficent gestures at the glowing fauna. "Look – they glow because my consciousness, my feelings has seeped into the wildlife. I could feel when anyone intrudes into the forest. And while I don't have eyes everywhere, I could still sense somewhat.. the same feeling of when I'm hated, rejected, put in contempt, and I feel it emanating from them. And then I'd smile with the satisfaction that their last second alive is filled with utmost pain.

"But you don't really hate me.. I feel," Maleficent says. "You've ventured into the forest, despite your fear. You've been taught to fear me, but deep down, I don't imagine you really hate me."

"How can you say all that..?" Raki goes, feeling offended how it's like she's probed his thoughts.

"It is simple observation and understanding," she says, and she glances at the cauldron. "I think my poutrice is just about ready." She waves at the fire, and the logs extinguish themselves.

Raki realises he is feeling quite weak, from fatigue and hunger. Sometimes he gets up to grab a midnight snack; and this is one of those times. His stomach growls. He hasn't brought any food – he's never expected to even venture out this far into the forest.

"Oh.. you're hungry," Maleficent goes.

"Are you going to kill me?" The question slips out of Raki's mouth; it's what's been bugging him all this time.

"No I won't. But I will feed you instead – my poutrice here is a rejuvenation drink. It's like porridge, with all the essential nutrients and energies provided from nature."

Maleficent's hand extends out, and two empty bowls fly from the counters into her hand. "Dine with me, young Raki; it will be a pleasure to hear what brings you into my domain."