Doubar walked into Maeve's cabin without knocking. He, along with the rest of the crew, had discovered in the past few days since Sinbad's death that Maeve would not speak. Not that she could not speak, but she refused to do so. She also would not take any food or water. For she knew that if she even tried opening her mouth the only thing that would come out would be sobs and cries for her lost love.
The scene that greeted Doubar was his little sister (for that is what he always had considered her to be) huddled in the fetal position on her bed, staring at the wall. She was not crying, not sobing anyway. But Doubar would have seen a steady stream of quiet tears working their way down her lovely face if she had been facing him.
"Little one," he called softly. "It's time for everyone to eat. Firouz cooked, but Rongar watched him to be sure nothing too odd got in the food!" Doubar tried to lighten the mood, to get something other than silence as a response. It didn't work.
Doubar sighed. "Maeve, you can't keep doing this. It's going to kill you. Not speaking I understand, but you have to eat." His voice choked on his next words, "Don't let me lose you, too."
Maeve considered getting up and making the effort to look like she was eating, but changed her mind and decided that the only thing she could really do right now was stay there in her grief and cry. She had caused Sinbad's death, she hadn't been careful enough, so what was the point in even doing anything anymore?
Doubar sighed once again and gave up. He shook his head and turned, slowly making his way toward the door. She was too stubborn, this one, just like his brother. The only difference was that Doubar would have physically picked Sinbad up in this situation and carried him to the table, spoon feeding him if necessary. But with Maeve in this sort of condition, he was afraid that his actions, no matter how well-intentioned, would injure her. So instead he left her that way, quietly closing the door on the way out, and prayed to Allah that something would change her mind, and fast, before his little sister completely lost her will to live.
Sinbad had been climbing the stairs for a while now. Looking down he could barely even make out the ground through the glare of that blindingly bright light that persistently shined and refused to allow him to see exactly where it was he was going.
As he climbed, Sinbad thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, turned toward the 'something,' and stood in awe as images began to form.....
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