by Edison G. S.
He stumbled upon a room filled with odd noises coming from the other side of the door. Omar knew that room was an empty living room. He put his ear up against the door to hear; he could discern people praying, more like chanting. The door was ajar so he moved a little closer, enough to see a slight figure moving in front of multiple people. There were about twelve women and his aunt was directing them. They continued to pray, some were even sweating, as if focusing on something required so much effort. The women had their eyes closed while they chanted in unison, each time growing louder. Then they stopped and Ester started talking.
“The day has come for a new generation of brothers and sisters to take over our role. I can feel it in the air, the powers of the next generation are awakening, and we will have a new master soon, a male, a wizard.”. Ester breathed deeply as if power was in the air.
Another woman spoke up, “A wizard? The prophecy will be consummated. He is at last among his true brothers and sisters.”
Omar’s lips began silently trembling and his legs tightened, preparing to run. He then knew that he could not stay there a day more. The women were crazy and turned him into something he was not nor wanted to be.
He returned to his brother’s room and carried him in his arms; Neil lost a lot of weight since their journey to the Forest started and was light enough for Omar to transport him. Without thinking twice, he left everything behind and ran through the window on the lower level unheard.
* * *
Once they were safely outside and farther from the house, Omar carried his brother on his back and started running without knowing where he was going. He asked a few strangers where he could find a doctor in town. He was directed toward a man.
The doctor examined Neil and gave his verdict—the sand bug fever, a very contagious flu affecting the malnourished. For some odd reason, Omar had not contracted the flu. The doctor informed Omar he could purchase medicine to help his brother. Omar paid him with some of the silver coins he swiped from his aunt. He was instructed to have Neil drink the elixir for a month to stop the virus from spreading and ease the pain, but it was not enough; he would need to return as soon as Neil opened his eyes again and the real treatment would start.
Holding back his tears, Omar thanked the man repeatedly. He felt warmth tingling in his limbs and his knees weakened. He offered the doctor a soft handshake and promised to return.
When they left, Omar lifted his brother onto his back again and started walking through the streets. Night was falling and they had nowhere to go. He was used to sleeping on the floor or in a hay pile, but his brother was too sick and it was best to keep him comfortable. He realized they should have stayed with the merchant and his wife.
They hid under a stone portico as the sky started to darken and everyone disappeared from the streets. Suddenly, the wooden door opened slightly. Omar looked inside, but it was pitch black. The boy was frightened, but he did what he needed to do. He entered and looked around, but it was empty. He decided they would sleep by the door and escape at dawn, being cautious not to be seen.
He looked over at Neil whose skin began to change to a pinkish hue again. Omar held him in his arms and felt safe for a moment. His brother was all he had left and he would not let him die.
But Omar’s happiness disappeared quickly as he realized the room was familiar. How did I end up here? He was unsure, but he knew they needed to leave--immediately.
When he turned to open the door, it was gone and all that remained was a stone wall. Where is the door?
Omar stood motionless observing the wall that a minute before was a door. He was trapped with his brother back in his aunt’s house. When he turned, he realized he was in the chanting room and his aunt stood looking at him with harrowing eyes. The twelve women were still there, but the night had affected them; they appeared scarier and darker than before. Where did they come from?
Omar looked at Neil and back at his aunt. What will they do to us?
Tara
There was a big gathering in the middle of the village. She peered through the window, but it was hard to define what was happening since it was dark outside. People are not supposed to be outside when it gets dark. Samuel stood next to her with the same curiosity.
Without a second thought, Tara opened the door to get a closer look. Her hair, now brown, was carried away with the wind. Once again, a woman was about to be burned at the stake. Tara was shaking her head with vigor and her lips were pinched together. She was so frustrated to be set free in a world in which people harmed each other. She could not feel part of humanity if things were like this, when a species of selfish individuals cared little for each other and would rather hurt one another.
She had to fight her desire to intervene, but she could not stop herself anymore. She ran toward the gathering and pushed people away until she got closer to the poor woman. Marie was shrieking as the heat started climbing toward her. The dark sky seemed illuminated by the flames, which had not touched her yet, but were spreading slowly through the hay. The woman visibly dehydrated, suffocating, and suffering; the layers of warm clothes she wore were beginning to smoke and she was screaming, her wails reaching the hearts of the villagers who could do nothing to help her.
Tara wanted to stand up and cut the ropes on the woman’s hands, but a hand grabbed her arm. “Don’t. It will be worse,” Samuel told her as she turned to find his deep eyes embedded in hers.
“I cannot,” she cried out. “I cannot belong to a world like this. I always dreamed of escaping and seeing a beautiful world, but people are evil. They kill, steal,...” she paused for a moment then continued, “they rape. They do not care about anybody.”
Tears poured down her face as Samuel brought her close to him. He hugged her and for the first time, she surrendered to the comfort of him. All the years isolated from humanity did not isolate her desire for the warmth of human contact.
Tara refused to watch the woman burn in front of her children. Her screaming intensified as the fire reached her leg. Tara cried uncontrollably and some soldiers looked at her.
“Why are you crying? Do you know the witch? Or are you one of them?” a high-ranking officer asked accusingly.
“Maybe she should burn as well,” another soldier intrigued.
“Yes, she is a witch,” Earl, the drunk from the ship, said. “I heard her chanting inside the house. That man is with her, too.” He pointed at Samuel. Tara looked at him with scorn. He was avenging his defeat by Samuel and Tara on the ship.
The guards gave Tara and Samuel a suspicious look; they chose to believe any instigation of witchcraft, real or not.
“Leave us alone!” Samuel demanded as the guards took Tara’s arm and separated them.
As they dragged them both next to Andreas, bells were heard in the distance. Everybody stood in silence, glancing back and forth from one another. Then the bells rang two more times. Suddenly, people began screaming and running in every direction; some entered their homes while others took their horses and galloped away. Several soldiers ran toward the town’s entrance preparing to fight, their weapons high in the air.
“What’s happening?” Samuel demanded, searching for answers.
“Run boy, run! Three rings mean the leader of all demons is here!” an old woman said as her son grabbed her hand and fled.
Not everybody had seen Kazar, but the tales of a much taller and older demon were famous. It was mandatory to alert the community to any suspicious of Kazar’s presence. It was Tara’s opportunity to reach him. She fell to the ground and a young woman kicked her by accident. Samuel helped her stand up.
“We must get out of here,” Samuel commanded and took Tara’s arm.
“Let me go,” she said as Samuel turned his shocked eyes toward her.
“What are you saying? We must get moving. I will hide you.”
“I am not asking you to understand me,” Tara said. “I know you will not be able to, but I need to stay and face the demons. I…” she hesitated, “
I want to be part of them.”
Samuel scratched his temple and looked at her perplexed. “This is no time for gags,” he said.
“It is the only way I can stop the king; I have to kill him,” she cried and looked at him with a thirst of approval.
He hid his anger and walked away proclaiming, “You are as twisted as this world. I hope your thirst for revenge pays off.”
Tara was certain Samuel was deeply offended, yet he did not understand the pain she endured, both physically and emotionally. Though she began to care for him, her insistence to become a demon to enact her retribution was more important. Besides, once she became in a demon their friendship would cease to exist.
Yvette
Confusion surrounded her; people were screaming and fleeing the area, the fear turning them into imbeciles. Some people started fighting for reasons beyond her understanding. All she could think of was her son telling her he loved her, as he had done many times before. I need to leave this place. She knew she would never see her son again if she stayed there. She disregarded her mission as she evaluated her options to depart the Frozen Land.
Yvette looked around for a solution. Her eyes widened when she realized she knew the young woman that stood up for Marie. She felt a flutter in the bottom of her stomach as she realized the girl had resided in the castle; she is the last Maxwell.
Even when Yvette was a young girl, she knew whom Sub-Commander Maxwell’s daughter was. She used to envy Tara for her status knowing if she ever dreamed of such a high position she would have to earn it herself, regardless of what she had to do to keep her powerful role. Her biggest fear was to be as powerless as she was when she was a small child. Only now she realized she was helpless since the day she became a Sub-Commander.
The king did as he pleased with her and with Tara. They knew each other’s shame; at times they would even exchange a cautious look back in the castle when they met in the doorway of the king’s room, one leaving while the other was entering. She felt a unique and despondent connection to the poor young woman, yet she envied her for risking her life for her freedom. In an incoherent way, she felt relieved the woman was going to die in the Frozen Land; she would at least be free, unlike her.
Yvette turned away and continued looking for a way to escape, but the only man brave enough to protect her was now her enemy. Andreas took his wife down from the pole after batting out the fire rising up her legs. Andreas and Yvette exchanged a look, their faces tight and frozen as the ground around them. Their eyes said everything—it was not over. Andreas ignored her and continued on his escape with his wife and children, helping Marie walk as her leg was scalded with burns.
She watched as his family ran back in the direction of the wagon; he had the baby in his arms and his wife hanging from his shoulder, while the boy ran behind them. When they realized somebody else already took the wagon they halted and ran in a different direction.
She wanted to follow them, but something bigger was taking over her body – shame. How could she keep living the same way she had since she became a Sub-Commander? She stood for a second until her son’s image once again gave her strength; she needed to protect him—surrendering herself was not an option.
Her foot started moving slowly, first one and then the other one. She hurried a bit more and started running, uncertain of where she was actually going. Her son was on the horizon; she envisioned him, feeling his warmth in the cold land and smelling the perfume of his freshly washed hair. Tears stained her cheeks as she kept running.
With a clenched jaw and grinding teeth, she remembered the night she was assigned to this damnable mission. As she ran, her hands clenched into fists as the anger percolated within her.
The king called her to go the Frozen Land since the people were becoming incensed with the king’s lack of support. His concern was they would start a rebellion, just as the Desert dwellers had in the past. The king resented losing his child and would not tolerate a new group of rebels. His best option was to rid the land of the people and the letter they received from Anthony was the perfect excuse; however, informants had warned of Kazar in the vicinity of the Frozen Land.
Yvette’s mission would be to kill the demons and the villagers as well, in her more convenient order. It was expected for the villagers to eventually comply with her leadership and her troops would effortlessly defeat Andreas’ troops since they had superior weapons. As soon as she killed Andreas, his men would revolt giving her an excuse to kill them all.
The king and she knew Marli was full of cowards and they would never cross the white plains toward Tenkla and would be ignorant of the ambush. If a ship ever came from the Forest they would assume the demons killed everyone. It would have been a perfect plan, but she did not expect an attack from Kazar. She hoped her troops would hunt him down in one of the caves and exterminate him.
Without looking back, she reached the edge of town. She was about to head to her ship when she witnessed hundreds of demons rushing toward the center of town. She fell to her knees in the snow, remaining there until the noise disappeared; her breathing became labored and her body was like a piece of lifeless ice. Only when she was certain the demons were gone did she stand. Trembling, she headed for her ship.
Her men should have gone to battle with the demons. Yvette was too frightened and selfish to care about the path they chose. The only person that mattered was Stefan.
Glancing around, she saw other ships. She needed to make sure her betrayal was never discovered. She knew she had to destroy the ships, but she needed to escape. As hastily as she could, she destroyed the helm of the other two ships to keep the soldiers from reaching Lera and telling the king she abandoned her mission.
She boarded the best ship and started back towards the castle; she would bring the king news of a successful mission in which villagers and demons were annihilated. The king would hardly question of the whereabouts of her soldiers. Supposing Winterton started asking detailed inquires, she would accuse him of treason, of planning to kill his king. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her pattern of thoughts.
The ship was underway, pulling away from the shore and breaking planes of ice as it heading into the ocean.. She was finally free, but only until she reached Lera and her freedom would be taken away once more.
She was not far into the ocean when she realized the ship was not completely empty.
Omar
The boy anxiously muttered to himself, “It cannot be.” Words were stuck in his throat and his thoughts were clouded and confused. He shook his head in denial; the woman was truly a witch, as was he. It is true, he thought with certainty.
Without noticing, his natural instinct was to hold his brother tightly, the only person that remained of his previous life. He was the only one that made him remember the years back at the Desert; together they ran through the streets and played with their friends. Sometimes their older sister brought them to an impoverished park; there were a few plants scattered that were dry, and ugly and it lacked the natural smell that the Forest had, but they enjoyed their time together. All of those memories, along with his brother’s life and his own sanity, were hanging by a thread. It was becoming too much for Omar to endure.
“I am sorry,” he murmured, tears flooding in his eyes. “Please let us go and we will not be trouble anymore.” He stood with his brother on his arms.
“But my dear, you are no trouble for me. On the contrary, you are our blessing, our hope,” his aunt’s voice was unexpectedly soft.
He looked down as if trying to assimilate the words and the hidden message behind them. He had to shake his head to rid himself of her trance.
“You are wrong to think we are enemies,” she said softly while walking away. She served herself some hot tea and turned back to the boy. “What I told you is true; you are a wizard, the master of the order, a vessel for the seven powers. You have a powerful role on your hands. I should have told you before,” she looked away with regretful eyes and sipped from her dri
nk, “but your mother made a mistake to hide it all from you. News like this would have frightened you if I told you the first day. Instead, I tried to do it gradually and let you know at a slow pace, but I too have failed.”
“But I cannot be a wizard. I am only a boy,” he avouched, his words shaky.
“Now you are a boy, but soon enough your powers will develop completely.” She took a deep breath. “The power is around you is ready to wake, I can feel it.” He looked at her with confusion. “I did what I could do to help you be stronger.”
She looked at her own hand and Omar remembered the time she slapped him. Was that meant to make me stronger?
“Be aware that as your power grows, you will be in more danger,” she said.
“Danger?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“I have been feeling a unique energy near the demons; they have witches on their side. Everybody wants a power like yours, thus they will attempt to goad you to their side. They have been trying for a while now.”
Sudden images crossed his mind—the female demon that killed his family. “My family?” he said with more tears in his reddened eyes.
Ester silently reassured, “It was not your fault.”
Then he understood, “They were looking for me? My family died for me?” His tears stopped coming as he held his brother even tighter, his gaze fixated on the wall. It was hard for him to embrace it all.
“Yes,” her words were full of sorrow. “It was the only way. We needed you safe.”
“What do you mean?” he inquired.
“The demons could not find you because we conducted a protection spell for you. I am the Witch of Protection, one of the witches of the order. I used all my strength to seek your safety. Our chanting has been with you all along your journey. One of my six sisters warned me about your coming. She is the Witch of Foresight.”
“You could have protected my family, too,” he scolded her with a high-pitched voice.