by Darci Darson
Rav’s face sharpened with tension as he observed his daughter cringing and sheltering herself with her folded arms, but Alyssa could not force herself to even hug them. It was as if she had built a wall around her soul and nobody was allowed to get through it. Nobody apart from Drasa and Calla. And possibly granny Cherry.
“Rav,” Yasmeen said with a brighter voice, “the house needs a deep clean. And you, princess, go outside and greet the others. Granny Cherry wants to meet you at last.”
“Thanks, mum,” Alyssa muttered and stepped back. She stopped though for an instant and said, “My Calla’s father is a ghost, a trapped soul. My friend, Kitty who helped me here, died a year ago. I couldn’t afford to employ any servants. I didn’t want to, either.”
“That’s creepy,” Yasmeen said. “But I’ve seen worse things in my life. We are freaks, I told you once.”
“Mum, how did you manage to reunite with granny Cherry?” Alyssa asked.
“It’s a long story,” Yasmeen said in a gloomy voice. “Ettrian cut my throat and I returned to my family home.”
Alyssa shuddered and her heart missed a beat. Yasmeen loved her so much that she had risked her own life to reunite with her.
“Are there any proper bathrooms in the house?” Yasmeen asked with a hint of humour.
“No,” Alyssa said and rushed to greet the others. Calla somehow materialised next to her or maybe she had not paid enough attention to notice her daughter.
“How I hate travelling in time,” Yasmeen complained and grabbed Rav’s elbow.
Alyssa moved towards the front door and walked out. Her first glance flowed towards granny Cherry who looked merely seventeen. Alyssa greeted her relative, forgetting to obey the rules of preserving the timeline and as a consequence, entertained her guests in between, throwing up. A jelly-like glittering load of her blood contaminated the ground in front of her. This was the least of her problems as another familiar face appeared. It was Ettrian who smiled at her with happiness and relief. It was as if he had altered his personality. Alyssa had never seen him so concerned. She had never experienced such a warm gentleness from him either. He asked too many questions and seemed relieved when she called herself a widow. Calla liked him the moment she saw him. The little one talked nonsense all the time.
“My mum sang one morning and she forgot you,” Calla said to Ettrian.
Trying to remain polite, Alyssa let him scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the house as they passed a furious Rav and stunned Yasmeen. Every molecule of her being shook as her skin came into contact with his but she stifled her emotions and suffocated her need of being looked after. Liberating herself from the captivity of his arms, she stood opposite him in the hallway and tilted her head. Her mind was filled with a dense fog like she was surrounded by a translucent wall.
“We are not in the Alyssum Forest,” she said coldly. “People behave differently here.”
“Your Varuh faded, Alyssa,” Ettrian said. “What did you do?”
“I tried to survive like you taught me,” she answered with bitterness. “But I don’t want to occupy you with my problems now. How is Sheedra?”
“Alyssa, what did you do?”
“Nothing.” She fell silent, watching his eyes as they changed their colour into bright silver. The iris looked like it was flooded by the metal melting. “Your eyes...” she said with amazement. “I’ve never seen you like this. No, wait. I saw you once. When I sneaked out to attend the elves’ gathering. It was a month or a bit less before my abrupt leaving of Iioliv.”
“This is because I’m happy to see you, Alyssa.”
“Were you happy then, when we danced together around the fire?”
“I was the happiest elf in the Alyssum Forest,” he admitted with a passion that was so unusual for him.
Alyssa felt like her heart stopped beating and her breath stuck in her throat. His answer was somehow disturbing for her and she did not know why. Her head throbbed because of the excess of emotions that coursed through her mind like repeated snaps of lightning each time she greeted another guest. It was as if too much joy, too much relief, too much hope for her damaged soul.
“Girl,” this was Drasa’s voice coming from the kitchen. “Help me. I can’t find anything that even looks like food.”
“I’m coming!” she shouted to him. Grandpa diverted her attention towards practical issues. She had guests and they needed food and accommodation.
“Choose yourself a bedroom, Ettrian,” she said. “You all will stay here for a while as I have no intention of leaving this place without my Philip.”
She saw his jaw muscles twitch as his hands trembled.
“This... ghost is not for you,” he said in a cold voice as his face darkened with a momentary anger.
“You are wrong,” she hissed at him and rushed to the kitchen where Drasa stood with his hands helplessly raised like he wanted the food to fall down from the sky.
“What have you been eating, Girl?” the old vampire asked with concern in his voice. “My poor little flower. Where was my younger version? I will tell him off,” Drasa muttered.
Alyssa dug her hands into a big wicker basket and took out two potatoes, showing them to Drasa.
“There are some eggs as well,” she said. “I didn’t want to sell too many of the items from the house and Calla and I did not need much food,” she added a bit embarrassed. Putting the potatoes on the table, she inhaled deep and her nostrils filled with the earthy and musky scent that circled around her so familiar for her yet so distracting now.
“Let this vegetarian creature with pointed ears cook something and I will look around,” Drasa muttered. “Surely there should be some rabbits hiding nearby.”
Alyssa chuckled and said, “He is not a creature, Grandpa. He is an elf. And he has a name.” Stepping back, she rested her back against somebody’s warm chest. As she twisted her neck and gazed back, her eyes met Ettrian’s. He smiled at her but his face was somehow sad and full of worry.
“I am fine,” Alyssa said firmly, anticipating his question as she turned to stand in front of him.
“I can see,” Ettrian said with sarcasm. “I have a very good recipe for potatoes,” he added in a softer voice.
“I remember,” Alyssa said. “You cooked that dish once in our house when my mum wanted to serve you a duck. It was delicious. Be my guest.” She moved towards the kitchen door, relieved that he would look after the food instead of her. His presence suffocated her and she felt like she would spit out her lungs if she did not escape. Ettrian jerked his arm and held her back, pulling her to him. Her back rested against his chest as his hand crossed over her breasts to caress her cheek.
“Where are you going, Alyssa?” he asked as Drasa passed them with a joyful surprise painted on his long face. “I’m not going to do it only by myself. This is your house and your responsibility, but I will help you, with everything.”
Alyssa felt tears welling up in her eyes. She desperately wanted to be alone and a wave of dense fury went through her veins.
“Are you going to help me to raise Calla as well?” she asked with the intention of causing him discomfort or make him angry as she separated herself from his hug. She turned to face him, arching her eyebrows.
“I will help you with everything,” he said firmly. “You will feel better, I promise.”
“Do you think that this is only about this devastated and filthy house and some poor meals?” she hissed. “I survived being on my own and I managed with every difficult encounter for all these years. I didn’t manage to fight this... cold. It ate me. I’m like the glittering snow that covered the ground where we used to practice archery. I’m cold... I’m cold like an icicle.”
“It will melt, Alyssa. I will help you,” Ettrian said. He raised his hand and she expected that he would toss her hair like he had done when she had been a child. Yet his palm cupped her cheek, gliding then over the side of her face as his thumb smoothed her lower lip. He lessened the distance be
tween them as his forehead rested on hers. He inhaled her, parting her lips with his finger. When his lips brushed the corner of her mouth, she jerked back as her heart pounded. Her hands elevated, forming a shield as her lips still tingled from his touch.
“What is wrong with you?” she asked sharply, her mind twirling. “I told you, you stubborn elf, that we are not in the Alyssum Forest anymore.”
“What is wrong with you, Alyssa?” He gazed at her with a question in his burning eyes and a moment later, added, “Peel the potatoes. I will do the rest.”
Alyssa moved towards the basket and pulled it. Ettrian took over the heavy container from her and put it on the floor beside the table. She was grateful that he allocated a task to her as she eagerly dug her hand in to pick up three more potatoes. Pretending that she was occupied with her work, she fought unpleasant thoughts of how much she wanted Ettrian to disintegrate into shimmering gems like the Opyri killed by Taharial. She wondered what would have been his color if he had died in Atlantis. Rav told her that humans had green, the Opyri red, the Varuh white. Ettrian’s would have been grey. Aaldir had died in a cascade of black gems. She wondered whether the same it would have been for Cherry, or for her.
Lifting her head towards him, her glance met the silver brightness of his eyes.
“I did it only for Calla,” she said in a cold voice. “If this was about me I wouldn’t want to see any of you.” She shuddered as her eyes travelled towards the kitchen door and locked onto Yasmeen and Rav whose faces winced in devastation. Calla ran into the kitchen, humming a song and caught Ettrian’s hand.
“They said that you could marry my mum at last,” Calla twittered.
“Who said that?” Ettrian asked.
“Them,” Calla whispered. “I see them sometimes in between.”
“Calla, go to your room,” Alyssa said. “And stop talking this nonsense. She misses her father,” she added to Ettrian. “And you are nice to her. We’ve been lonely here since...”
“Rav and I will prepare the bedrooms,” Yasmeen suggested. “And you, Ettrian, you help my daughter. She needs... your gentle help.”
“Yasmeen,” Rav said sharply. The glance that he shot towards Ettrian, clearly contained his urge to murder. There was a momentary tension between the two men which bubbled and grew in strength to hang in no-man’s land, unresolved, obscured.
“Rav, we are going to look after the bedrooms,” Yasmeen ordered, laying emphasis on every word. “Calla, show us the bedrooms.” Yasmeen approached the little one and grabbed her hand. The kitchen was occupied now only by Alyssa and Ettrian.
“I’m sorry for my Calla,” Alyssa muttered. “She seems to be very attached to you. She’s been talking nonsense for a while. I don’t know why. She spends too much time in the churchyard.”
“She wants you to be happy,” Ettrian said and took the potato from her hand. “You are peeling them too thick. I will do this.”
“I am happy,” Alyssa said to him, balling up her fists. “I have my Calla.”
“Your Varuh should bond. This would heal your broken heart, Alyssa.”
“How do you even know that I can bond. I’m not a pure Varuh and this ability weakens in every consecutive generation.”
“You can bond and this connection would be very strong. I know this. I’m an elf and we know more.” He looked like he wanted to say more but eventually, changed his mind and returned to peeling the potatoes. His eyes were full of determination. They still gleamed with bright silver.
WANDERING
By
DARCI DARSON
The Legend of the Seven Flowers Book#4
Cherry is determined to reunite her family but she can’t control her Varuh properly. Grieving over her husband, Imre, she meets an impertinent leader of Angelas Sargas who desperately wants to deepen his acquaintance with her. What really are the Seven Flowers?