THE WIND THAT RUSHES past me carries no trace of salt but the bittersweet taste of acacia. 

I'm sitting in the front seat of my grandmother's old car that grunts with every breath it takes. My hands, on autopilot, move according to all the twists and turns on the road. My lips are cast on a snarl. 

Aven lies in the backseat with his hands draped over his eyes, posing dramatically like a muse from an edgy music video.  

However, the throbbing pain and the rising of the negative mess of rushing feelings make it difficult to even look properly at the road. With every turn I take, I heave a sigh. “Stop sighing, Clara.” Aven mutters from his slumber, “You are making even me, a creature with no emotions, fear for his safety.”

I do not indulge in his whims as always, but my denial of humour this time makes him frown. “What is making you so anxious?”

“I can't tell,” I admit. “But something I don't like is going to happen. I can feel it in my bones.”

He hums. The shadows cast on his face hide him from the occasional fall of sunlight on his delicate pale face. It moves back and forth with the wind. When his blue eyes flutter open, it's as if I am back home, near the translucent sea that shimmers brightly under the soft rays of the morning. 

I was woken up from my pre-afternoon nap by a phone call from the police station asking for my immediate presence. They didn't explain, nor did I inquire, but I had a feeling it was related to the disappearance of my brother. 

Cameron. 

I think I am starting to forget your face, and I hate it. The only key to the chamber of your presence is my closet of memories and the chain that you gifted. But your appearance? How bad is it now that I have to depend on a missing poster to remember your youthful face? 

I have forgotten the colour of your eyes, the shades of your golden hair, the tone of your skin, the warmth of your voice…

My grip tightens on the steering wheel. I blink back my tears. 

I am not a believer in God, but I find myself praying to all the gods, ancient and new, for good news related to my brother. They say God is merciful. God is ever-knowing: omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent. Then how come you haven't given me even a little clue about his well-being? All you have given me is hope, a dangerous wish, nothing more, nothing less. 

The police station building watches over us from a distance. Unlike the station, the buildings around it have lengthy vines and moss sticking to the paint. They bought the place next to the Latin Catholic Church ever since there were cases of missing bodies from the cemetery. Some speculate that it's the work of grave robbers, while others believe it's something more, something evil—something supernatural.

I stop the car near the church and step out without bothering to call Aven. He doesn't take offence to it, though he does sigh in disappointment at being left out alone. Our walk to the station compound is full of silent tension. 

“I'll wait here.” He says while sitting on the chair outside. “You go ahead and meet them. Don't bother calling me for help.”

“Wasn't intending on doing it.”

My heart hammers against my chest like a drum, invoking a sense of dread. With every step I take, the foreboding feeling sticking close to my guts intensifies.  The people inside the police station spares me no glance- not the officers, never the commoners. It’s as if everyone is stuck deep in the pits of their own needs to bother looking at another. It was for the best, though.  Having people stare at you when the news of your brother is awaiting you doesn’t sound definite. 

I approach the officer, who looks free from chores compared to the others, and inquire to him about the call. He briefly takes a look at me and tells me to head over to the lady officer, who looks as if she could fall any moment from exhaustion. After confirming my name and address, she handed over a notice to me, taking that moment of break to fetch herself a glass of water. My heart dropped to the floor. 

“You know what it is?” she asks, and I nod. 

“Yeah. But why?”

The officer folds her arms on the table and starts to explain, “Listen, your brother has been missing for a month now. It would have been better if there was no evidence left behind for you.” She spares me a sympathetic glance. “Two bodies have been found, but neither belong to Mr. Cameron, Ms. Dayore.” She pauses.

“Then who-”

“Alejandro Diaz and Sussanne Martin” My whole body shudders with a sudden chill as I hear those names.

 Alejandro and Sussane…

Cameron’s dearest friends and his travel partners…

Nausea bubbles through my throat, and I find my vision growing weaker with passing seconds.

 “The team has ended their search. You might want to start the preparations as well,” she adds softly. It doesn’t even register in my mind that I am speaking until it's too late. “He is truly gone, isn’t he?”

The officer goes silent. “I am afraid so, Miss Clara.”

I nod and rise from the seat. I stumble a little, and the officer’s hand shoots up to grab a hold of me. I flash her a sincere smile and make my way outside the station. I am not aware how long I’ve been walking for, but somehow, I am being chased after by Aven, who promised to wait for me. He grabs me by my arm and huffs in exhaustion. 

“What are you doing? The car’s over there and you-” he stops. Aven’s brows furrow a little while mine remain the same way as they generally do. He cradles my face gently in his palms and uses his thumb to caress my cheeks. “Hey…” he starts. 

“Why are you crying?”

I remain silent. “Clara?”

“Gone…” I whisper into the space between us. I stare into Aven’s eyes and think. 

My Cameron…is gone. 

I HAVEN’T STEPPED INSIDE Cameron’s room after Aven entered my life other than to clear my mind. The floor has tiny ants running over it, collecting some biscuit or sugar pieces on their back. Papers and files from decades are scattered on the floor. Cameron’s clothes that I haven’t touched since Aven’s arrival are coccooning me in their cool embrace, but they do not give me comfort as the photoframe in my grasp for they have no scent except for Aven’s. 

That mere knowledge sets my heart aflame with hatred, but my body is trembling and feels so heavy. My arms are limp and my legs cold against my chest. I am so, so tired. 

It's like I’m back to those days when Caleb was declared missing. I could barely eat or sleep, let alone wake up from his bed. I feel the bed creak by my side, followed by a warmth offered by a calloused hand. I look up and see Bastian’s concerned eyes and soft smile. “Hey there. I heard everything from the guy outside.”

He extends both his arms to his side, inviting me, tempting me for a hug. But it was still too soon for me to wake up. And it is just too much. So I ignored him. Bastian groans softly. “Come on~ Don’t be like that silly!” He flops on the bed, right beside me. He plays with my hair and whispers. “That guy is stabbing daggers into my back with his eyes. Can you please tell him to stop?”

I tilt my head slightly to a side, and there he was, indeed, leaning against the doorframe, staring at us. But he was not sending daggers or something with his eyes, he was just…looking. Observing and analysing everything with those keen eyes of his. 

“Aha, is that how it is? All it took was saying his name, and you’ll look at him?” he teases. “My my, I undermined your relationship.”

“Go away, Bastian. I am not in the mood for playing along.” He grunts slowly, shifting in his position. “No can do. How long has it been now? Since you have eaten something?”

I stay silent. Aven takes it as a sign to speak for me. “3 days. All she does is drink water. She barely touches any food.”

I would have scoffed if it weren’t for my condition. Aven couldn’t do anything in the kitchen except make tea. 

Bastian hisses at the siren. “You should’ve called us earlier, damnit!”He exchanges a glance between the two of us and then springs up from the bed. He bumps harshly into Aven’s figure as he walks out into the hall yelling, ‘DAMN PEOPLE, CAN’T EVEN DO BASIC THINGS’

Aven says something, but I’m in too deep in my somber mood to pay attention until the bed creaks again. This time, it’s Aven who appears by my side. Silence lingers between us until it is broken by me. 

“How did you manage to bring Bastian here?” My voice is gruff and harsh from not speaking for too long. How long has it been since I’ve said something? Aven seems to be thinking the same, for his eyes linger on my face for too long, way too soft to be considered his usual observation. 

“I have my ways,” he says as he picks up a strand of my hair and touches it to his lips. 

We stare into each other’s eyes for a long, long time. I could finally hear the tides crashing and the low rumbling of it, smell the salt and the food that Bastian was cooking inside the kitchen and feel the soft touch of his on my scalp. It feels like it has been a long, long time. 

Aven’s breathing is such a soft sound that it eased the tension in my eyelids for a while. Everything is fine until he asks me a question.

“What exactly happened to your brother?”

Sillence. 

Flashes of memories come to my mind, and I am rendered speechless for I am unaware of how to unwrap them. Aven didn’t know- I am aware of that. And so I push away the anger bubbling in my heart and try to answer his question with a tone softer than what I could muster up in my current situation. 

“Cameron…was always obsessed with the sea. Not the kind of obsession you would find in divers and scientists but a rare kind- one that is ignited through stories and myths all related to the sea and the sea goddess Itazayana.”

“We are both children without parents, We do not know who our mother is. The person whom we could call our father was both a drunkard and a drug addict. He was violent- never towards us. He was angry and full of hatred, but it was never directed at us; it was all directed towards the goddess. But then he disappeared on us one day, some say there are witnesses vouching for a statement that he let himself be guided into the ocean. All we had left to be called a family was our legal guardian- our grandmother. She was a sailor, a feisty one at that. There were even rumors stating that our grandfather was some sort of pirate. Not that I believe in that ridiculous statement; that guy could not kill a pest for all I remember.”

“It should be around that time after our father’s disappearance that Cameron developed this strange fascination towards the tales of the sea, Itazayana to be precise. But there was this one tsle that he was particularly enarmored with.” My throat grows itchy, and all of a sudden, I am coughing onto my palms. 

“Do you want some water to drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Aven turns around and grabs the glass of water sitting there, waiting for me on the bedside table. He makes me sit up and lifts the glass to my lips, letting me take sips at an even pace. I clear my throat. 

“The origin of sirens,” I say, and I feel Aven shift beside me. “The tale he was obsessed with was about your kind. I didn’t think of it much until now. Ah,” I pause after I realise I am steering away from the topic. I inhale sharply and continue after finding my words. “He, unlike me, got a proper education and eventually a job inside the city. But he left it all after our grandma’s death. Why? Because his passion for the sea was greater than stability.”

I find myself growing more tired with this conversation, but I can’t stop. Not after I’ve come this far. Somehow, I end up resting my head on his shoulder, and Aven lets me, for which I am grateful. I do not think my body will last long after all. 

“He became a sailor against my wishes, and eventually, I was forced to accept that this was simply how my brother was. Everything was going well until that day- a month ago when an unexpected storm arose in the middle of the ocean, right where Cameron and his crew were sailing. And then all of a sudden, I receive this call stating that he has gone missing? Like, no, he cannot be! Cameron did that all the time just to surprise me! He cannot have gone missing like the media reported!”

I laugh, the sound shallow and dry. “And now they are telling me to prepare. That he is dead!” I turn towards Aven, who is looking at me with indifferent eyes. I laugh again, this time desperately.  I take hold of Aven by his arms and shake him fervently “Tell me it's all a lie, isn’t it?! Cameron will be back, won’t he?!” 

I broke into tears while screaming, “Why won’t you tell me?! You should know the answer, shouldn’t you? You have the power to know! I know you have! Aven, tell me, I beg of you! Please!”

I feel arms pulling me into a soft clothed chest, and it isn’t long before I feel a familiar coolness that somehow brings me comfort. But it isn’t much. The sorrow and anger that I feel in my entire being have their roots settled deep inside my fibres, and I cannot do anything to let it grow and crumble me. 

Aven lets me cry into his chest, and all while I do, he rocks me in his arms as if I was a baby, guided by pure instincts. And all while I couldn’t help but acknowledge the thought, a feeling of odd companionship with the man who ran away from his dreams;

what is life for if it doesn't have you in it?