#also on a most minor note the name evoked for me a quiet nod to my favorite line from Haunting of Hill House--

[mayybirds]

Hey, I’m curious. Where does the name “through the valley to life” come from?

!!! No one has asked this yet, and I'm so happy someone has. <3

"Though The Valley, To Life" is kind of a multi-level nod to a lot of things. On one level, it's a slight nod to the music album "Through the Deep, Dark Valley," which I really enjoy and which had some minor influence on developing TtVtL (a couple songs from this album are in the TtVtL playlist). On a larger level, it's a play on a specific biblical quote (as is, I believe, "Through the Deep, Dark Valley")--Psalm 23:4. There's minor variation in translations of this Psalm, but the energy stays the same. Here's the English Standard Version, which is the translation I personally like most just for its poetry--

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."

('The valley of the shadow of death' is sometimes also translated as 'the valley of darkness', for context.)

Given the heavily Catholic influence on the aesthetics of RE8--and the general role religion plays in the plot--it felt fun and fitting to shape a title in recognition of this. Especially given the "Village of Shadows" being the literal title of the picture-book about Miranda's town in RE8--a story of the journey of a young girl through a hostile landscape, who must learn to distinguish gifts from trials, and must be reunited with her parents.

Thus, the name "Through the Valley, to Life" is a nod to all of the above, and a statement of purpose. Ethan and Eveline are in the Valley--the valley of shadows, of darkness, of death. This valley is their respective background traumas, the indelible marks the Baker Homestead have left on them, and, of course, the Village of RE8 itself. They must overcome all this if they wish to be safe and happy. They must pass through the valley, and only then can they live freely. Through the Valley, To Life.

[mozart-and-mocha]

Rafaela

List of personified keys I’ve met: D minor, F major, F minor (I actually met her when I was a kid but that’s a long story), and A major. Until now, I hadn’t really noticed anything about those keys and why I met them specifically.

Lately, things had been quiet, in relation to the keys. For a few weeks, I went to school as normal, hung out with Dave, and rushed to meet deadlines. Today, during math, while the teacher was explaining the mean value theorem, my mind wandered. Probably because of the ADHD.

I was staring at the teacher’s face, her hair, and her clothes. I had no idea why, but her mannerisms reminded me of someone I had met a few weeks ago. I tried and tried but I couldn’t remember who it was. Out of frustration, I turned my attention back to math. Holy smokes, the teacher was pretty. Not that I hadn’t noticed it before, but today I couldn’t seem to stop staring at her. Finally, math ended, and it was literature, the last class of the day.

Literature went on as per normal, with the class moving their seats to form a circle to facilitate the class discussion. Some of my classmates had laptops, which they used to type what was said. Others preferred to highlight and annotate the text. After yet another uneventful lesson, the school day was over. We put back our chairs behind the tables, as we always did after every literature lesson.

I plugged in my earphones, slung my bag over my shoulders and hugged my laptop as I walked out of my classroom. Some kids had already left, while others chose to stay behind to do some homework or finish assignments. I made my way down the steps and onto the pavement, avoiding people and trying not to look at the afternoon sun. 

As I walked past the café in the mall where I used to hang out in my earlier years at this school, I saw my math teacher sitting at a booth by the window. She glanced outside and saw me. I waved to her and continued walking. I stopped at the traffic light, since they weren’t in my favour. The sun was blazing, and sweat was trickling down my face in rivulets. I wiped the sweat off with the back of my hand, envying people with umbrellas. At least I was wearing sunscreen, like I did every day. 

Seconds before the lights were in my favour, someone tapped my shoulder. It was my math teacher. Seriously, did she have to be so pretty? In the afternoon sunlight, she was gorgeous. “Hey Rafaela,” she greeted me. “You seemed a little distracted during my class today. Is anything bothering you?”

As we crossed the road, I fumbled for an answer. “Not really. It’s just that…uh, you reminded me of something that happened to me a few weeks ago, and I can’t put my finger on it. Sorry,” I tried to sound apologetic. In an attempt to change the subject, I inquired, "Are you taking the train home as well?” I know, small talk often seems dumb, but if you were me, you’d understand. And it wasn’t as if we weren’t walking towards the train station. 

My teacher smiled. “No, I drive to work. Even though I could take the train, I don’t fancy having to squeeze on the train every day. But if I took the train, I’d take the red line.” Right. I had forgotten that most teachers who drive to school park at the carpark near the train station, rather than the one at school, because of the high parking charges.

“That’s my line too! I live 7 stations away. I live in Bradlington.”

“Actually, would you like a ride home? I’m going to Bradlington to run some errands.”

If only I had known what was going to happen, I might have chosen to take the train home, as I usually did.

My teacher drove a silver Mazda 3. I was about to climb onto the backseat, when she invited me to sit in front. Okay. She was my teacher, not a taxi driver.

“So, Rafaela, how are things at home? Are you coping well with ADHD?” she probed. Most teachers knew about my diagnosis, so that they wouldn’t get angry at me when I forgot assignments or spaced out in class.

“Uh…I’m managing rather well, I’d say. The side effects of the medication aren’t great, but they’re worth it if I can keep up in school.” By this time, we were out of the carpark and were waiting for the lights to turn green. The car in front of us was a white Honda Sonata. This reminded me of a music joke, and I started smiling. A Honda Sonata with one flat tire was a Honda Sonata in F major. I fought down the smile.

My mind wandered again. F major. The relative was D minor, the parallel was F minor. I had met D minor, F major, F minor, and A major. So the first 3 keys were related, but not A major. A major was the dominant of D minor…

And it was with this, I realised the tonics of the keys I had met so far formed the tonic chord of D minor. The key who had started the course of events that changed my life in the past few months.

“This might seem awkward, Rafaela, but I need to ask you something. Did anything strange happen to you? Or is someone picking on you, at school, at home, or in another setting?”

I shook my head. “It’s really just today. Your mannerisms suddenly reminded me of someone I met a few weeks ago.” But I doubt you know her. You would think I was crazy if I told you who she was. The words that were unspoken died in my throat.

My teacher had that knowing look in her eyes. “You’re synaesthetic, huh?” Okay, so my math teacher guessed it. What did that have to do with anything? Was she going to ask me what colours the digits 0 to 9 were?

“Yeah. I have various forms, but the strongest one is the one where I perceive music keys as having personalities. As if they were people. Of course, they have colour, too. You know, musician stuff. I’m a music student.”

She nodded, as the car made a turn and went up the expressway. “Rafaela, I’m surprised you still don’t know me.”

I tried not to snort in indignation. Of course I knew her, she was my math teacher.

“You were probably thinking of my parallel minor, weren’t you?” she continued.

How did this make sense? Was my math teacher actually a personification of a music key? Like how my swimming instructor turned out to be F minor? Why would a math teacher know much more than basic note names when it came to musical knowledge? And which key was she talking about? And why were we having this conversation on an expressway? Just so you know, there are better places to be having this conversation.

I felt my cheeks colour. “I, um, I…I met the personification of one of my favourite keys a couple of months ago. It didn’t go as well as planned.”

“Huh?”

“Umm...let’s just say my impulsivity got me into trouble.” 

My teacher nodded wordlessly.

“If we’re both thinking of the same person, you know who I am,” she said. So…D major? I mean, I admitted to making the key of D minor even sadder than she already was, and prior to that, my math teacher said that I was probably thinking of her parallel minor. This was creepy. Did personifications have the ability to read my mind?

“You’re…D major? Seriously, this has got to be among the weirdest conversations in the whole of human history.” I could hear the disbelief in my voice. “How do you live among humans? You know, legal names and stuff. I doubt you can walk around announcing that you’re one of the 24 keys, personified. Non-musicians wouldn’t understand, and neither would non-synesthetic musicians, if we’re being honest.“

“I’ll explain another day. And do you want me drop you off at your place, or is the train station fine?” I couldn’t believe it. The key of D major was giving me a ride home. Not only that, she was also my math teacher. What in the world, right?

“Yeah, the train station will do. Thanks. Uh…do I address you as I did before, or…?” I hesitated. D major laughed, a sound that evoked images of the sun on a bright summer day. “Use your brain, Rafaela. Do you really want your classmates to think we’re both insane?”

“No,” I admitted. By now, we had gotten off the expressway, and we were approaching the familiar streets that surrounded the train station. D major stopped right at the drop-off point, and as I shut the door, I waved to her. I could see her smile at me as she drove off. D major. Please protect her. After all, you’re her parallel major.