Skyedive - Chapter 28, Under The Same Sky

In today’s episode we read the chapter 28 – Under the Same Sky – in which Farfalla looks back on the path that brought her here as she picks up the pieces.
This week's podcast partner is Certainly Strange: https://open.spotify.com/show/1stSYQC9Sqox9TwbU48Dof?si=ct4_QX_NQh6hHZHxZ9eyVA&utm_source=copy-link&nd=1
Contact: theskylarkbell@gmail.comThe Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.comThe Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbellAuthor/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.comJoin Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveriThe Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbellAll music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.comCannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.musicOfficial Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store
The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.
FULL TRANSCRIPT:Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 28 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  In last week’s episode the camp suffered a devastating attack that left Farfalla as the last one standing.In today’s episode we read the chapter 28 – Under the Same Sky – in which Farfalla looks back on the path that brought her here as she picks up the pieces.Today’s podcast partner is fellow Boopod network member Certainly Strange. An attempted murder on a ghost, cursed paintings burning houses down, and lighthouse keepers disappearing without a trace. The world is filled with astonishing stories that will make you think "I don't know what’s going on here, but it is certainly strange!" Join host Nemo on a journey through the strangest parts of our history. Check the show notes for a link to the Certainly Strange podcast.Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.
Embers.When I opened my eyes, it was daylight. The bell was still clutched in my hands. I couldn’t believe the scene before me. Everything was gone. Again. All that was left of the encampment, the roaring fire, the celebration, was embers.It feels like my life is an endless loop of loss and betrayal.All around me, around my singed boots and the frayed hem of my gown, smoking embers from the fire, and devastation. Most of the tribe members were taken away, their hands tied together behind their backs with rope. The lucky ones were left behind, their bodies sprinkled throughout the clearing that, only a few hours ago, was a scene of joyful celebration. The tents are gone, burned to the ground, or ransacked and torn apart. All that I have left is the Bell. Thankfully, the Bell. It took me a long time to find the courage to turn and look at the Ancient Oak. I wept, then, at its blackened, bare branches. Its trunk marked with black soot, scarred from bottom to top. I trembled as I let my eyes climb to its towering height, remembering its final instructions to me. I walked to its base and placed my hand on its trunk, desperate to feel its heartbeat, to hear its voice, its song, but the Ancient Oak was silent.“I can’t do it,” I remember saying out loud, my words echoing around the clearing, bouncing off the piles of ash and debris.The Ancient Oak r