“There you are,” said Bloom, pulling his staff from the ground and leaning on it where he stood. “Come this way,” said Bloom, welcoming Wendell to the campsite. He picked up the basket of food and handed it to the boy. “You must be hungry,” he said.
His younger self gratefully opened the basket, only to find it filled with his favorite foods. He looked up in surprise and then began to eat hungrily. After he had wolfed it all down, the boy felt around at the bottom of the basket for something more.
“Still hungry?” said Bloom. He had saved a few apple tarts for himself, but upon seeing how hungry the boy was, Bloom handed them reluctantly over. “Have a little more dessert,” he said, giving Wendell the last of the tarts.
Young Wendell attacked the treats. “Where’s the shelter?” he asked in between mouthfuls.
“I just started building it today,” explained Bloom. “And I could use some help.”
“I can lend a hand,” said the youth eagerly, “though I don’t know much about building anything.”
“I’m not exactly a master cottage builder myself,” admitted Bloom with a sigh. “Since I have not built such a structure in a long time.”
“We could build it together,” offered Wendell.
“I would be glad for your help,” said Bloom. He wondered how to introduce himself. For obvious reasons he could not use his own name, nor could he use the name ‘Bloom’ because he could not bare to ruin Wendell’s experience of being named by Amelliea. “My name is Master Dellwen, Lionorous Bravenheart,” said Bloom.
The boy introduced himself in turn. Bloom looked down at the young man’s hands, and was horrified to see the deep bloody gashes in his palms. He didn’t remember it being so bad. “Take this balm,” said Bloom, handing the boy the jar of brown paste. Wendell hastily spread some of the paste across each palm and his hands immediately began to heal. Wendell yawned, and sympathizing with how tired his younger self must be, Bloom unrolled a sleeping mat at the boy’s feet, and placed a thick woolen blanket on the mat. He handed Wendell a pillow. The boy took it gratefully and laid down.
“How did you know I wouldn’t come with you,” asked Wendell sleepily, “you know, back at the tavern?”
“I could see you were quite unsettled,” replied Bloom, with a heavy sense of deja vu. “Rest now, while you are here nothing can harm you.”
“Thank you,” said Wendell, his eyes closing upon hearing those comforting words.
Bloom shook his head. This was going to be tricky.
Chapter 53
On the Other Side
Over the next several months, Bloom worked hard on the cottage alongside his younger self. He tried to teach the boy as much about building as he could even though his younger self was hot-tempered and often impatient. Bloom was reminded of just how much he had learned and grown from his difficult life, and he was grateful for the wisdom that had accompanied hardship. On the occasions that Bloom had to use magic, he made sure to discreetly hide the crolackrolite stones he created within his robes, and keep them well out of Wendell’s sight. When he could, Bloom tried to keep his younger self from casting spells, insisting on doing it himself, in order to spare Wendell from having to carry the weighty stones for the hundreds of years he had yet to live. Together with Wendell, Bloom rescued the books from the wizarding library, and began finishing the construction of the cottage. The structure was turning out better than he remembered and the new home was greatly satisfying to work on. Both Bloom and his younger self found that working on the structure was helping them cope with their individual heartache.
One day, after Bloom had spent the better half of the afternoon in the village purchasing supplies, he returned home to find his younger self in a terrible mood. By the look of it, the boy had even been crying. He must have found his parent’s names in the book of family trees, thought Bloom, remembering the pain of that discovery. Before he had gone into town, Bloom had left the youth the task of organizing the library, thinking it would be good for young Wendell to familiarize himself with the many books that would play such an important role in his future.
“The library is coming along nicely,” said Bloom, giving Wendell a bit of moral support.
“Yes,” muttered Wendell glumly, unable to mask his true feelings.
“What day is it?” asked Bloom, unexpectedly feeling his heart sink and the strength go out of his knees. If he was not mistaken, it was supposed to be his anniversary with Ausra!
“It’s Krucksday, the ninth day of the week, said Wendell.”
“And what is the time?” asked Bloom urgently.
“Half past ten,” answered Wendell, glancing at the sundial strapped to his wrist.
“Go and fetch me some fresh water from the spring!” said Bloom. Realizing it would not be his anniversary after all if he did not get his younger self to the spring to meet Ausra. The girl was likely already there and waiting.
“But I am not finished here—” complained Wendell.
“Go now!” urged Bloom, pushing Wendell out the door. “I—
I need water to set the windowpanes!” he lied, coming up with any excuse to get the youth outside.
“Alright, I’ll go!” said Wendell, indignantly complying with Bloom’s grumpy demands. In bad spirits, the boy grabbed a pail from the porch and headed down the path towards the spring.
Bloom watched him leave with relief. As the youth vanished into the forest, the feelings of relief abruptly shifted, morphing into a strange jealousy. Bloom shook his head as if to shed his foolish thoughts, for it would not do to be jealous of himself!
Bloom went to his bedroom and brought out a large wooden chest that he had been discretely building for over a week. The spacious chest was sturdy, and had beautifully carved panels on all four sides. The arching lid was held in place by three golden hinges, and the wizard was more than satisfied with how it had turned out. Bloom placed the chest in a corner of the living room where it did not immediately grab the eye. He didn’t bother with a lock for he knew young Wendell would not notice the chest for many days to come. He had discovered with dismay that his younger self was not very observant. Reaching into his vest pocket, Bloom pulled out the shabby coin purse he had been gifted by the King of thieves. Opening the purse, he began to scoop out handfuls of gold coins and sparkling jewels and pour them into the chest. The coins made a musical chiming sound as they struck the bottom of the wooden vessel. Bloom wanted to fill the chest to capacity and so he tipped the purse upside down, pouring the treasure out in a golden river, and pausing only to make sure the lid would still close. Once he was certain not a single coin more would fit, and the chest had become immovably heavy with gold, silver, and sparkling jewels, Bloom peered into the coin purse. Approximately ten times the amount he had filled the chest with remained inside the purse. There, among the dazzling treasure piled inside the coin purse was a glowing green gemstone. The wizard recognized it immediately. It was the stone he had used long ago to make Ausra’s engagement ring. Being careful not to lose the gem among the other treasure, Bloom reached in and retrieved the precious stone. He placed it in the most visible spot atop all of the treasure inside the chest and wrote a note for Wendell before closing the lid.
Bloom was giddy at the thought of seeing Ausra again. He went into the kitchen and began to prepare a delicious dinner. He thought about what he would say to Ausra and tried to predict what she would answer. He had missed her so much since they had been separated. Bloom had believed for centuries that he was never more to hear her musical voice and now, he lived to hear it again. For so long he had been able to find her only in his fading memories! How strange it would be to see her again in the flesh and be in her presence once more! As he reached for the salt he suddenly caught a glimpse of his face in a small mirror that Wendell had hung on a nail from the spice shelf. The words “old man,” crashed into his mind. The poisonous words cut like a knife. Bloom touched his face. Inside, he felt as young as ever, but his face had changed with
time. Bloom was still a handsome man and he looked to be in his early fifties, but Ausra would be only nineteen years old. Bloom decided that he would have to love her silently from a respectful distance. She must never know the truth. He picked up a pitcher of milk and moved to the door, intending to pick some wild berries in the forest behind the cottage. Berry-sweetened milk had been one of Ausra’s favorite treats and he had enjoyed making it for her countless times. Bloom opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. Sensing a familiar presence he glanced up and felt his heart stop. Ausra stood beside his younger self only a few yards away. She was even lovelier than he remembered, looking just as she had on the first day he had met her. Every familiar line, every beloved shape of her face was just as it was when he had fallen in love with her nearly four hundred years before. Bloom dropped the pitcher of milk and the ceramic cylinder smashed against the ground. Without looking down, he stepped over it and moved toward the couple. Wendell held Ausra’s hand and looked as love-struck as a bird in springtime.
“And who might this be?” asked Bloom smiling at the girl and remembering that he had a part to play.
“This is Ausra,” said Wendell.
“Ausra…” repeated Bloom happily. Tears rose to his eyes and he gestured to the cottage to distract them from his emotions. “Welcome! You two are just in time for dinner.”
“I’m delighted to meet you,” said Ausra politely. Bloom smiled and held the door open for them. Ausra glanced shyly at Wendell. The youth nodded at her approvingly, and stepping over the spilt milk they went inside together.
The three of them piled food onto their plates and conversed merrily as they ate. An irrepressible happiness hung in the air uniting them all in a meaningful way. Bloom wanted to know every detail of how Wendell and Ausra had met. The young couple relayed the story together, and Bloom listened intently, sincerely happy for them both.
After dinner Bloom collected the empty dishes from the table and went to the kitchen to wash them in the dish basin. He made sure to make a lot of noise so as to let Wendell and Ausra have a privet moment all to themselves. He returned to the dining room just in time to catch Wendell casting a spell to conjure a flower of exquisite beauty for Ausra. Ausra gave Wendell a reproachful glance for using magic, which the young wizard ignored. The girl took the beautiful flower right from the air where it floated and Wendell smiled, enjoying her amazement. Bloom looked at his younger self disapprovingly, upset by the fact that the youth would have to carry that crolackrolite stone for the rest of his life. In fact, Bloom could easily locate the very same pea-sized stone in his own breast pocket. He was frustrated with Wendell’s thoughtless use of magic. The young man did not yet know what it meant to live four hundred years!
“Ausra, come,” said Wendell, “Let me show you the library!” Wendell took Ausra to the circular room. Bloom let them go ahead, not wanting to steal the entire night from the young couple, but he did not manage to stay away long, and soon came into the library to join them. Wendell was busy showing Ausra the books and the girl delighted in the magnificence of each one. Bloom had a hard time keeping his eyes off of the beautiful Ausra. There was much he wished to say to her, but his emotions were highly distracting, and the necessary acting was not making things easier. After a while he spoke up, hoping Ausra would somehow understand as she always had before, that he had something important to tell her. “Ausra, it is getting late, you must be expected at home,” said Bloom.
“Yes, I need to get home,” she responded.
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” asked Wendell.
“You are always welcome here, Ausra” said Bloom. “However, we must not worry your family, for that would be most ungracious.”
“But it is getting dark,” protested Wendell.
“I will accompany her home to ensure her safety,” Bloom assured him.
Wendell reluctantly walked them to the door. Ausra hugged the boy goodbye before following Bloom outside. Bloom and Ausra walked in silence for a while, heading in the direction of Ausra’s parents house. She lived a little ways outside of town, and it was easier to cut through the forest than to go around and through the village.
“He needs your love more than you know,” began Bloom.
“I live to love him,” she smiled.
Bloom struggled to find the right words to warn her of what was to come. “Ausra, I need you to understand that things may not always be easy for you and Wendell.”
“I am not interested in easy,” said Ausra. “If I wanted easy, I would marry the baker’s son, since he is wealthy and his craft will always be in demand, even in the new era.”
“What I mean to say is,” Bloom began again, “there may be a time when you will be separated from Wendell, a time when you may lose each other. When he is gone, you may have to live the rest of your life without him. Knowing this, would you still want to be with him?”
“Of course I still want to be with him,” answered Ausra. “Every hour with Wendell is worth an eternity of separation.”
Bloom was silent. He was deeply moved by her unwavering devotion. A part of him wanted to tell her not to let Wendell go to Earth, but there was another part of him that knew that if he did so, he would never find Amelliea in the Citrulene forest. What would happen to that poor child if he did not finder her in that fatal hour on that cold winter night? He could tell Ausra to go to Earth with Wendell, and then leave Ausra and Wendell a map with detailed instructions of how and where to find the baby. He could tell them what to name his daughter, and how to raise her. All the while Bloom knew that the only way to ensure his younger self would find the baby was to let things unfold exactly as they had before.
“Are you him?” asked Ausra suddenly, startling Bloom out of his thoughts.
“What?” asked Bloom in alarm.
“Are you Wendell as an older man?” asked Ausra.
Bloom stopped dead in his tracks. She faced him, and Bloom looked into her hazel eyes, his throat tight with emotion. “Why would you ask that?” he inquired nervously.
“How else would you know the shortest rout to my parent’s house having never met me before, and prepare a dinner for three out of my favorite foods without knowing I would be joining you?”
Bloom looked at her face and felt that even now, at this critical point, he would be helplessly unable to lie to her.
“On top of all this,” she continued, “you feel familiar as though I have known you all my life, and perhaps even longer than that. I must know who you are, so tell me please, are you him?”
“Yes,” said Bloom.
She pressed a hand over her mouth. Bloom took her other hand and brought it to his lips. Her chocolate skin was warm, and smelled of cloves and cinnamon. “I’m afraid I am immortal,” he said sadly, “and I have to travel back in time just to see you again, my beloved Ausra!”
She began to cry. “We were parted?” she asked.
“Yes,” answered Bloom, “Only I have had to live much longer without you than you had to live without me.”
“If you are willing to know me, and live without me for so long, than I am willing to do the same!”
She put her arms around him and Bloom returned the earnest embrace.
“I never thought I would ever see you again,” he whispered. “I want to be here fully in this moment but I can hardly believe it is not a dream.”
She pulled away and looked at him once more. “How am I going to live with the two of you?” she asked, lifting up his eye patch. The mismatched eyes of her one true love looked back at her.
“I’m afraid I cannot stay for very long,” said Bloom. “There is still much work that I have yet to do.”
“Don’t go,” she said.
“I cannot abandon the future,” he explained.
“The future can wait,” said Ausra.
“I must go back,” said Bloom. “I will not live forever, and I have to finish my work before I die.”
They continued on their way through the
dark forest.
Bloom began to laugh.
“What is it?” Ausra asked.
“I just realized that you knew,” he chuckled, “You knew that I was Master Dellwen the whole time!”
Ausra smiled. “I suppose that joke will get even funnier later on.”
“Thanks in advance for not ratting me out to my younger self.”
“He cannot know,” said Ausra simply, “at least not yet.”
“I quite agree,” answered Bloom.
“Wendell, may I ask you something?” asked Ausra.
Bloom’s heart skipped a beat. He was not used to being called by that name, especially not by Ausra’s beloved voice.
“You may ask me anything you wish,” he answered.
“Do my parents ever forgive me for falling in love with you?”
“No,” answered Bloom, “They do not.”
They had reached Ausra’s home. The windows were dark.
“Where are your parents?” asked Bloom.
“My mother has likely gone to bed. She always goes to bed early on the nights my father is out hunting,” sighed Ausra.
“That’s right, your father is a famous huntsman,” said Bloom. “What does he hunt these days?”
“Wizards,” answered Ausra sadly.
Chapter 54
Twice Broken
The next morning, Bloom got up extra early to finish up the last bits of work on the cottage and then got to fixing breakfast. He was already flipping pancakes when Wendell rolled out of bed and came to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast.
“What are we working on today?” asked Wendell.
The Curse (The Windore Series Book 2) Page 36