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by Darci Darson


  After the ceremony, Kitty and Jenny headed back first whilst Alyssa walked slowly on her own, her long, loose hair like a soaked coat on her back. It was dark and the sky was threatening with its angry bright greyness.

  She remembered now Felicia’s funeral as her dear grandma’s pyre burned below the red and orange sky of the evening. The smoke bit Alyssa’s eyes, blinding them with tears. Yasmeen held her hand and stroked her back. Their black lace dresses waved with a touch of warm breeze like they were both mourning black angels.

  “Why do humans die?”Alyssa asked and rubbed her stinging eyes.

  “They are mortal,” Yasmeen answered, leaning over her ten year old daughter.

  “Will we die as well?”

  “I don’t know,” Yasmeen said with a cold honesty.

  “We should be nice to humans,” Alyssa said.

  “Dad and I heal them with our bond whenever we can,” Yasmeen agreed and smiled to her. “We are not able to save them from death.”

  Returning from her memories to her current location, Alyssa balled up her fists and unexpectedly felt somebody’s hand gripping her right wrist. She jerked her head up and sank into the electric, blue sea of Philip’s gaze as he walked beside her. He was sad and so beautiful for her that Alyssa’s chest lowered under a nearly physical heaviness. She straightened her fingers and let him hold her hand, their fingers entangled together as they advanced towards Westfad Manor in silence.

  When they entered the cold and mournful murkiness of the house, Alyssa led him to her bedroom. They floated together through the stairs and hid in the dim greyness of her temporary sanctuary.

  “Why are you like this, Philip?” she asked, standing in front of him in the middle of the room, his hand still holding hers, but he just stroked her cheek and wrapped her in the warmness of his gaze.

  Alyssa liberated her hand and clutched the pieces of his red uniform, helping him to take off the jacket and smoothing the wrinkles of his white shirt.

  “I love you, Alyssa,” Philip said as his forehead rested on hers. “You are my angel.”

  She inhaled his magical and sad scent whilst the tears welled up in her eyes, like droplets of bitterness and disappointment.

  “Stay with me forever, then, ” she asked with her low voice. “Help me. Love me.”

  “I cannot stay,” he said. “There are things... that you would not understand. They keep me away from you. I try, Alyssa. I try so hard... I want to be with you so desperately, but it cannot be... It drains me and makes me forget. It keeps me away from you.”

  “Maybe you don’t try hard enough,” she hissed. “I won’t manage with the house only on my own. Kitty is too young. You should be more responsible, Philip,” her last words were drowned in her hysterical crying.

  He did not say anything and this was even worse than listening to possible excuses of why he had abandoned his duties. He looked tormented and sad, but not a single word of reassurance left his mouth,

  A sharp stabbing pain went through Alyssa’s chest and she felt her anger at the realisation that he put his cards and the visits in town first, before her. As a stifled cry shook her chest once more, she pulled back but Philip gripped her in his embrace and smothered her with his yearning kisses. There was something desperate in the way he touched her so she fell into his welcoming arms, pulling at his shirt and tasting the feel of his skin. She could not resist him, at the same time feeling sad and angry with herself.

  He wiped the moisture of the rain and the tears from her face, closing her mouth with his in a hungry kiss.

  Alyssa immersed herself into his thirsty touch and loving care, his kind warmth and freezing sadness. It was so difficult for her to comprehend how good and loving he was for her and how abruptly he could have abandoned her along with his responsibilities. Her soul cried but this only made her more desperate to lose herself in his embrace. The time and space preserved in an unfading moment only for them both, the delicate brush of his finger tips and the tingly touch of his lips, made her hungry for more. As the vapour of her arduous breaths united with the void of his and she descended into the amazement of Philip’s eyes, everything began to dance, vibrate and bubble.

  She fell asleep in his arms but when she woke up there was nobody beside her.

  As Kitty came in, carrying the breakfast, she burst into tears.

  “Miss, do not cry,” Kitty said, touching Alyssa’s forehead. “I shall look after you.”

  “Thank you, Kitty,” Alyssa sobbed and turned to sink into the servants caring embrace. Horatia’s death and Philip’s leaving paralysed her and she was not able to cope with anything. She just wanted to sleep.

  Kitty looked after Alyssa and the rest of the household. She turned out to be a tough negotiator when dealing with the farmers and commoners and also a supportive carer. It was clearer and clearer with every day that passed that Alyssa could count only on Kitty and vice versa. With this realisation, on one sunny morning, Alyssa acknowledged that it was her destiny to rule Westfad Manor and to take care of the two servants, entirely dependent on her decisions. Horatia was dead and Philip was not going to become responsible for the estate. Alyssa made a decision to keep the house for her and for Kitty as well as to provide a stable environment for the rapidly aging Jenny. She felt stronger and tougher, directing all her attention towards Kitty. She had her own life to live even though it was not her true family home and Kitty was not her real relative. What mattered was that they both had found each other and could be a family together.

  The young servant moved into the bedroom next to Alyssa’s, with her timid ‘Miss, it is not proper...’ accompanying Alyssa’s orders regarding the whole process.

  “You are my best friend, Kitty,” Alyssa said to Kitty as they both looked through the young girl’s modest belongings, putting them in a neat order in the wardrobe. “You are my sister and my family. And during the next shopping trip we’ll buy some nice clothes for you.”

  Kitty clasped her hands and paced around the room with her face lit up by excitement and love for Alyssa that exploded in repeated hugs.

  Alyssa did not bother herself with buying new gowns. The garments left by Horatia’s deceased daughter were enough for her with small adjustments and her priority was to make Kitty look nice and healthy.

  “I will teach you to write and read,” Alyssa continued. “You have to help me with the documents and everything.” She thought for a moment of what great help to her were the abilities gifted her by the Varuh alongside years of learning the elven incantations. It guided her through the meanders of the Greydalk mentality, released from the suspicions of the local priest and the Reeses’ lawyer.

  Life in Westfad Manor was filled with sewing, repairing, washing and cooking. Alyssa and Kitty read with enthusiasm and with every book it seemed to be easier and easier for both of them. In fact, some books of adventure and romance were like best friends for Alyssa and she came back to them more than twice, whereas others bored her even when she just casually looked at them. Nevertheless, with a lack of other entertainment, learning about being a good wife or studying tips about housework was better than nothing. Alyssa explored Horatia’s ancient literature on preparing herbal tinctures and experimented with the potion for fortune and good luck with no benefits so far.

  The routine was predictable and stable, the work, the Sunday church, the lonely nights. Philip came back three times and each time she was drifting somewhere between the reality and a dream. His arms wrapped around her body and he caressed her in the captivity of his thirsty yet gentle and loving touch. She swam away in the ocean of his kisses, kind and warm words, his desperate yearning for her, his fingers mastering every area of her skin; each time she did not want to return. She fell asleep in the angle of his chest and awoke alone to bury her face in the pillows and cry silently. She loved him, but this love was sad and full of resent, desperate, consuming and giving no peace; just moments of passionate oblivion. She knew that it was all she could have received from
him. It was a painful happiness, exploding like a fire in the dry woods and ceasing in an instant like a burning match in the wind.

  Then he did not return anymore.

  Alyssa buried the memory of him deep at the bottom of her heart, not even mentioning him with a single word. She did not hate him; just something else started to occupy her thoughts.

  Chapter 8

  After the difficult winter with the shortage of food and wood, Alyssa’s health seemed to deteriorate a little. She was constantly tired and moody and Kitty reprimanded her all the time that she needed to sleep properly.

  One day, she woke up with muscle aches and cramps. Still drifting on the edge of her dream about the Alyssum Forest, Alyssa stretched her arms and started from her bed, determined to organise a proper meal for herself and the two other inhabitants of Westfad Manor. The roads appeared to be in a better condition, and the weather improved at a steady pace, thus enabling a shopping trip.

  Her mind went hazy and she grabbed the edge of her bed for support as a wave of nausea went through her stomach, cramping and twisting. She could not hold the contents of her stomach any longer and running to the portable bath tub in the corner, she threw up into it. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead and another vomiting reflex shook her body, but her stomach was empty and she just remained, tortured by the repeated flares of nausea. The sweat trickled down the back of her neck as she knelt beside the bath tub, with her head rested on the edge, eyes closed. A small hand patted her shoulder. The floor was freezing cold, but Alyssa could not move.

  “Kitty, I’m dying,” she muttered with a horse voice. “I’m really dying. Help me...”

  “You ain’t dying, miss,” Kitty said in a serious voice, gripping Alyssa’s attention. “You are with a child.”

  Alyssa burst into a nervous laugh, but after an instant, she fell silent, contemplating Kitty’s words. A cold dread surged through her head and travelled down her throat to her chest, freezing her heart. Kitty might have been right. She had been too busy to pay attention to all the signals that her body stubbornly sent her. Her pregnancy was very probable, actually.

  Kitty put her arms under Alyssa’s and tried to elevate them both. Alyssa liberated herself from this desperate hug and with her hands gripped the edge of the bath tub. With Kitty’s gentle assistance, she moved towards the bed and fell on the mattress, the impact of her body producing a moaning puff from it.

  “I guess, Kitty, this means you will need to look after me again.”

  “I shall manage, miss. I am stronger and older. Rest now.”

  Alyssa felt grateful as she had no energy to even lift her head from the pillow. The idea of having a baby was quite exciting for her, but the possibility to raise the child with only Kitty and Jenny scared her.

  Kitty did not ask any questions as if waiting patiently for Alyssa to be ready to tell the story. The young servant bustled and fussed around her dear mistress, serving her food and offering the warm touch of her tiny hand. Kitty was vital in giving useful advice, to stay away from people’s glances, to create a reliable story needed in case of any nosey questions, and to rest and eat properly.

  Alyssa wanted to sleep and even the books that she loved so much did not draw her attention anymore.

  She had a lot of time for reminiscing on the past.

  The warmth of her mum’s smile as they spent time together, hunting and camping in the woods.

  The caring stability and tolerance of her dad’s attitude towards her as she constantly broke the rules established in her family home.

  The tons of presents arriving into her bedroom each time Ettrian visited them.

  She was the most spoilt child in the elven community and possibly most loved as well.

  She missed the smell of spring in Iioliv and the support she received from almost everybody.

  The elves seemed very tolerant to their children giving birth to a child in early age; it was always a reason for happiness and the whole community supported the young parents. They could get married at the age of sixteen in human calculations but the majority of them focused rather on adventures and travelling. They traded, cheated, enjoyed women and played cards. They also experimented with the neutral magic.

  Alyssa was like an elf, though stripped off her roots and abandoned.

  She cried and her heart hardened every night until one evening, when she decided to just appreciate what life had brought to her, almost like her mum who always tried to find positive sides in the events that she faced. Alyssa embraced this strong bond that Yasmeen always desired to build between them both, as now it appeared to be a source of comfort and fortitude for her.

  She wanted to go back and face whatever would await her in Iioliv but she was stuck in Westfad Manor and had at least to try to be happy here.

  She missed the warmth of the Alyssum Forest and its fires burning every full moon at night, illuminating the surroundings, dispersing the distinct smells of resins and herbs. They gave a sense of joy as she had watched them from the window in her bedroom. One night, she had sneaked out to attend the elves’ gathering...

  It was three weeks before her abrupt leaving of Iioliv. She joined Aymar waiting for her near her house. He had nagged her for months to attend the elven celebration of life.

  “I used this incantation that you taught me last year,” she said to him as her bare feet transported her through the grass sprinkled with droplets of condensation. “My parents should have a deep and undisrupted sleep for half a night at least.”

  “It’s disrespectful against them,” Aymar said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him.

  “They would never allow me to come to the dances,” she said with a stirring voice.

  “I won’t tell anybody,” he promised. “Don’t do this again. They are your parents. You should try to convince them to give you their permission.”

  She smoothed the light fabric of her purple tunic and corrected the waist of her black trousers. The garments were not suitable for the occasion but she was not going to dance or socialise. She wanted to watch from a safe distance.

  As they approached the great fire burning in the glade, she was amazed at the sounds of instruments and the singing voices erupting in laughter. The music floated like orange joy and blended with the yellow and red warmth from the flames below the navy expanse of the night sky. She was enchanted with the figures dancing around the fire, as their precious clothes waved and enveloped their slim bodies. There was an aura surrounding the gathering touched with happiness, magic and sensuality. The air was still and hot. Alyssa took a deep breath and smiled. The heavy scents of summer flowers intoxicated her senses.

  Alyssa stood where the line of the trees formed a border around the glade. Aymar was next to her, still holding her hand. His fingers entangled with hers.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered to him, feeling excitement like she had just received a beautiful gift.

  “Dance with me,” Aymar asked and sent her an amazed look.

  “Are you going to marry me?” she joked. The elves usually danced on their own. When they invited a partner, this could mean an intention of marrying him or her. They treated this custom with a frivolous lightness although the rejection of a dance sometimes could cause a broken heart. Only for a short while though as the elves had the ability to cheer themselves up with another person very easily.

  “I want to marry you, Alyssa,” Aymar said seriously. “I’m going to ask your father for his permission soon.”

  Alyssa pulled away her hand from the clutch of his and gazed at him with surprise. She was pleased with his interest in her but had no intention of marrying him. He was her best friend and she was not sure whether he could ever mean more to her apart from testing his kissing skills.

  “What are you doing here, Alyssa?” this was Ettrian’s amused voice from behind her back.

  She shuddered as she turned to face him.

  “Don’t tell my parents,” she pleaded. “My mum will kill me.


  “Yasmeen wants you to have a proper education before you get married,” Ettrian said and stood at her other side so that the three of them could admire the dancing.

  A young elf woman started walking towards them. It was Tsarra who was a year younger than Alyssa. She approached with a joyful smile on her full lips, brushing away her dark brown hair and smoothing the fabric of her white long dress that covered her slim body like a piece of expensive veil. Reaching out for Ettrian’s hand, she invited him to a dance but he shook his head and refused sharply. It was very rude for an elf. With the tears welling up in her eyes, she gave Alyssa a hostile look and left at a fast pace, striding like she wanted to escape as soon as possible. Alyssa felt compassion for her as the elf girl’s intention was very clear now to her. Tsarra wanted to marry Ettrian. Alyssa pulled back to return to her house as the atmosphere began to thicken and threaten.

  “Alyssa,” Aymar started and she knew what he would ask her for.

  With her heart pounding and her chest expanded in a rapid inhalation, she grabbed Ettrian’s hand and pulled him towards the fire. She had panicked and in the next moment, she realised how irrational her behaviour was. Covering the distance of about ten steps, she stopped and a sudden thought hit her that Ettrian was still with her and now he pulled her towards the fire.

  “I can’t dance,” she squeaked, scared.

  “You have just humiliated Aymar,” Ettrian said with a cold calm. “He has very honest feelings for you. But at least I can give you a dance lesson,” he offered with a hint of humour.

  “I will probably be as hopeless as in my archery,” she said and blushed with the realisation that her dancing skills would humiliate her in front of the whole elven community. “I don’t want him,” she added to justify her unreasonable behaviour.

  “So be honest to him,” Ettrian advised as they got close enough to feel the heat of the fire touch their faces.

  Alyssa’s cheeks burnt of fear as Ettrian’s arm landed on her back and his other hand lifted hers. He showed her how to move feet and she burst out into laugh.

 

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