Page 4 of Story of Tilula

lived for all these years grew larger with this new failure.

  Indri's mother felt her son's despair. "Oh Indri. How I wish I could relieve your suffering. Perhaps if I did not marry your father after all."

  Indri sighed. His mother was not to blame. Nor was his father. It was simply fate's cruel way of saying that someone had to be ugly, and who better than the lineage of the frogs. All things in the world did need to be balanced, and it was Indri's job to balance the lot of beauty with his horrid visage. "No, Mother. I guess neither of you are to blame. Perhaps if I'd learned how to befriend others sooner, it might not have been too late. Now my heart is too black to know friendship, moreover love."

  "It might not be too late, my son."

  He huffed as he raised himself from his huddled position on the floor. "I know a dead end when I see one. I shall strive to be content with the pitiful existence I have here." It is too late to make friends, too late to resolve the loneliness inside this mansion. Nobody will be able to see my real self, for I have not tried on my own to reveal it. I've always stuck to the image in which I was lodged. "You should return to the sky, Mother. It will be daylight soon."

  The lovely sprite realized that her son's rage was spent, and that in its place was a coldness no normal being on the world could thaw. Indri's heart was now not only black, it was also frozen.

  --

  Unknown to the two within the mansion, there was a company of men crouching near the hedges of the place. There were five men in all, led by a certain merchant holding a large jar. It was the dead of night, but they carried neither candle nor oil lamp for fear of getting caught. Only the faint glimmer of the fireflies and the shining crescent of the moon had guided them to Indri's mansion. And now they were preparing to gather what they wanted.

  "How are you so sure he will not see us?" one of the men asked as he eyed one of the beautiful yellow flowers growing on the hedge.

  Taruk snorted as he set down the large jar he'd been holding. He was going to use it as a container for all the healing water they would gather. He knew that, at the center of every flower in Indri's garden, there was a drop of healing water that preserved their life. If they squeezed the flowers, they would manage to collect that single drop. "Of course I'm sure. He does not go far, not on the outer side of the hedges. He will not suspect us of anything."

  "And if we do get caught?" his friend asked, nervously reaching for one of the closer blooms.

  Taruk too reached for a flower, and began pressing it between his fingers. No sooner had he pressed the petals together than a drop of the water fell right into the jar. "Then blame the entire scheme on me. After all, this was my idea."

  "We do get a portion of your income, right?" another man asked. There was a glint of desperation in his eyes. From the tattered clothes and the thin sandals he wore, it was obvious that he was a pauper.

  "If the venture is successful, then you may even have more of the allotted amount I've given you. I have estimated the value, and it will be more than enough for your family to live on in the next months. But only if we succeed tonight, and come home with what we aspire to procure." Taruk motioned for the other members of the company to follow what he was doing.

  "Steal, you mean." Anif was with them too, and not comfortable with the idea. But Taruk had helped him many times, and he could not simply leave his dear friend to the designs of the forest monster. However, Taruk did not agree with what his friend said - too long has the water been kept from the reach of the villagers.

  "It is not stealing if we acquire something of which should have been ours in the first place. This forest is big enough for everyone, and the water plenty enough for others to sell too." Taruk reasoned as best as he could. "He is merely it's guardian. Why does he have the sole right to give it?"

  "Perhaps because he is the son of the frog king."

  "The frog king is dead, and other than the sprites and his father's infernal looks, he has inherited nothing else. Not even the demon's powers. What leverage does he have with which to threaten us?"

  Taruk reached for another flower and mercilessly wrung the water from out of its fragile core. And once he was finished, the flower hung limp upon its stem. He and his men continued their wrongdoings until dawn, when the darkness no longer concealed their presence. They managed to collect a whole large jar of the healing water? and destroy the precious yellow flowers that once adorned Indri's beautiful hedge.

  --

  She knew what had been in the jar. She'd smelled the scent of the healing water before, when she'd mixed her little brother's herbal tea. It resembled the fragrance of lavender coupled with lily of the valley. She knew she would recognize the brilliant fragrance always.

  Like she did just now. She saw a large jar partially hidden under the kitchen table, and it smelled of the healing water. She immediately understood what had happened, but could not believe that her father could do something so incriminating.

  "Father, what have you done?" Tilula asked when her father entered their kitchen.

  Taruk saw his daughter kneeling in front of the large jar he'd used to hold the stolen healing water. For a while he was silent, steeling himself for another argument in which he wanted to prove he was right. He tightened the belt around his robe and nonchalantly proceeded to the corner table, where he prepared himself a cup of coffee. "I did what any other man would do. Provide for my family, that's what I did."

  Tilula stood up and marched to him. She angrily pointed to the evidence she'd just discovered. "This is illegal. Mother would be angry, steaming mad once she knows where our extra money has been coming from."

  "She will not be mad about something she has no knowledge of. I trust you will keep this from her?"

  At first Tilula could not speak. Her father meant to keep his misdeed a secret, and she could not stand that idea. She knew what was right from wrong, and wanted her father to realize that what he did was not right. "She deserves to know the truth. She's your wife."

  "And you, my dear, are merely my daughter. You will obey my orders in this household, or I shall turn you into the streets." Taruk proclaimed, but Tilula did not care.

  "You are too cruel. Does Indri even know you took this from him?" Tilula prodded. And when her father couldn't look her in the eye, she huffed. "I thought so."

  She knew her father was bluffing, like he always did.

  "The villagers are grateful that they need not see the man's ugly visage to get their water. And look here." Taruk reached into the purse that was tied to his belt and lifted out a handful of gold coins. They were shiny and new, and it was all Tilula could do not to shut her eyes at their brightness. "This is all we've earned in the last month. A hundred gold pieces for a vial of healing water goes a long way, Tilula. If not for this money, you would not be wearing those gorgeous slippers you have on now."

  Ire quickly replaced Tilula's awe over the money. Her father was not going to coerce her into keeping his secrets from anybody if she had anything to say about it. "Then I'll take the slippers off, for I don't need them. I can always go about barefoot."

  "You will disgrace me so?" Taruk roared angrily.

  "Precisely."

  Taruk shoved the coins back into his purse and took a hasty gulp of his coffee before setting the cup down. Taruk placed his hands atop the corner table and, shoulders hunched, mentally cursed his own self for having produced such an outspoken daughter. "I ought to take my hand to your hide, like when you were still five."

  Tilula wanted to give another quick retort in response to that bluff, but before she could do so her mother came rushing into the kitchen.

  "Taruk, come quickly!" she said, panting, worry once again dominant in her eyes.

  "What is it, my dear?" Taruk asked, drawing his wife closer. She'd not looked so worried since the illness of their son-

  "It's your son! He fainted on the pavilion!" she despaired. "What do we do? The healers are attending him as we speak, but I fear they will not be able to do anything."
r />   Taruk paled, and so did Tilula. Her heart was once again seized with fear. Her brother was ill again, and this time around there may not be any more they could do to cure him.

  "Is it the same sickness?" she asked, her mind working quickly, organizing what needed to be done and who needed to do it.

  "I'm afraid so," her mother concluded.

  Tilula wasted no time in dashing to the large jar and peeking inside. Perhaps there was still some left, an amount that would be enough to keep her little brother while their father thought of a way to clean the mess of a situation he'd made with Indri. "Father, do you have any of the water left?"

  "What?" her mother paused, and looked towards Tilula. It was clear from her expression that she was puzzled by those words. "I thought we used up the water last time."

  Taruk had been too focused on calming his wife down, and too shocked upon knowing that this must be the courtesy repaid him for stealing that healing water. "What your daughter asks, my dear, is if I have any water left from the stash I have kept hidden."

  "Stash? I don't understand. Did you once again buy water?" she asked.

  "No," Taruk sighed. Now was the moment of truth, the time to tell his beloved of what he'd done. It was also time to face the fact that he'd committed a mistake which might in itself end the life of his son. "Sit here and I will tell you what I have done."

  Taruk retold what he and his men did to Indri's hedge, and