“You should let me give you something for that,” I urged her, but she politely refused any aid.
“There’s nothing that can help me,” She resigned, which sent a ripple of fear through me. “I’m afraid that what I’ve got is beyond your skills.”
“Ravene, don’t be ridiculous. There are a lot of things that I can treat. Coughs are my specialty, remember? What can be so bad that I can’t help?” I demanded to know. Ravene tried to play it off several times but seeing that I would not give up until she told me the truth, she begrudgingly confessed.
“It’s trouble with my lungs. I have consumption,” She confessed, lowering her eyes to her lap as her fingers fiddled with a bit of embroidery that she had been working on. “It was confirmed when I went to the healers after I started to spit up blood.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” I shouted, upset that she hadn’t told me about this sooner. “I could have gotten you on a regimen that could have helped—” I started to protest but she raised a hand and silenced the next words that came from my mouth.
“There’s nothing that we can do.” She said straightforwardly. “The healer treating me has me on a regimen that Eweln herself developed. The same treatment that they used on Mother. It kept her comfortable during her last days. Up until now, it has worked for me too, but it has finally gotten to the point where nothing more can be done. All they can do is treat my pain so that I don’t suffer.” She said, already resigned to her fate with a mixture of sadness and fear. My sister had tried to hide her troubles from me since I returned but, now she was open, honest, and transparent, keenly aware that there was no longer time for pretense. “The healer told me that I only have a few months left.” A long paused followed and we sat together, looking at one another. I had naively thought that we would have years left to spend together but I was wrong. Our time, what was left of it, was now even more precious.
“Ravene,” I threw my arms around her, pulling her tightly to me. We both sobbed, each one sensitive to how quickly the sands of time passed. I didn’t want to lose my sister so soon. I hadn’t been back long and now we would have to say goodbye once again. The final goodbye of this lifetime. Holding her, I felt what my eyes had failed to see. The loose draped clothing that she wore disguised the thin, frail body hidden underneath. The boniness of her frame, as well as the traces of blood that stained her dry, wrinkled lips, as well as her bright, luminous eyes told me that her time was near.
“Please don’t look at me in that way.” She begged and I was ashamed of my transparency. “You always did have a glass face.” Her mouth pulled up at one end as she tried to humor me, even if it didn’t quite work.
************
Ravene died three months later. I was at her side, her hand gripped tightly in mine, accompanied by her husband, Dennen, her daughter, Runa, her son, Desten, Aunt Leena, as well as many other people that all loved her. The entire community came out to honor her life. The healer who had been treating Ravene, a woman named Astra, was the same woman that worked indefatigably alongside Eweln and me during the coughing sickness outbreak. Towards the end, she gave Ravene heavy amounts of poppy flower juice, just like I had given Archard’s wife, Joan. Astra knew that Ravene would be at peace and through sleeping, she would be spared from the pain caused by her lungs breaking down and the rest of her body wasting away to nothing. It was in the middle of the night when I heard her raspy cough one last time. A rush of wind whirled about of the room as her spirit left her body. The door silently swung open on its own accord and I knew that she had gone on to the next phase of being. The emptiness from her leaving was more than I could bear. Not wanting to wake her loved ones that rested so peacefully beside her, I rose from where I had been sleeping and went outside.
The sky overhead was clear, filled with thousands of stars. I gazed at the heavens, heartbroken but wishing Ravene a peaceful, easy journey. My feet started to move and soon, I found myself up on my hilltop sanctuary, illuminated by the bright moonlight. Lying in the tall grass, I allowed mourned. I wept for all that we had lost and what could never be. I needed to grieve those things, and, in that space, I felt her spirit beside me, just as it had been when we were children. I cried until I could no longer produce tears and my eyes were dry and scratchy. I thought about our childhood, as well as all the happy times we shared. Even though we quarreled and bickered constantly as children are ought to do, we were always sisters. I also thought about our separation and how it had made the last of our years together much more precious.
All of that was over, though. Ravene was gone now. It had been her turn to leave but not before she had left her mark on this world. Part of her would live on through her children, along with the love that I bore for her. Just before daybreak, I started to sing the funeral songs that would help her spirit transcend into the next world. The melodies resonated from my lips and cast over the grasses that danced, swaying back and forth in the wind, joining in on the celebration of her life. I left the Hilltop, thankful for having her in my life but with heaviness in my chest caused by her absence. To keep her memory alive, I would continue with my own life, loving and raising my children, as well as being there for Ravene’s if they ever needed me. I made a vow that I would always be there for them and it was a promise that I kept until the day that I died.
SEVENTEEN
Through the years, the twins grew quickly—too quickly—and soon, they were on the brink of adulthood. Ranulf grew to be the mirror image of his father, showing many of Ralf’s traits along with a few of my own. Gweneth followed the path that Leena and I had taken. Like me, she developed a keen interest in healing. All plants, herbs, and other flora fascinated her. She was determined to absorb every bit of knowledge that she could until she discovered all of its secrets. Together, we were united through many trying times, as well as happy ones. The most trying was when Aunt Leena died just after the twins’ fourteenth birthday. Her passing was quiet and gentle, much like her nature. Before slipping away, she shared with me a secret that she had intended to take to the grave.
“Yvaine,” Leena coughed, calling me to her bedside. I was cooking dinner while Ranulf and Gweneth were away, pursuing their own interests. “Yvaine, please come here.” I stopped what I was doing, wiped my hands, and went to her.
“Do you need some water?” I asked, entering the room and immediately went for the pitcher sitting along her bedside. I filled a glass and sat down beside her. I had had a bed like the one I had in the cave made for her, knowing that it would give her greater comfort as her body prepared for the transition of death.
“No,” She waved the cup away and patted the bed, urging me to come closer. “I just thought of something.” She coughed for several moments until it ceased, and she was left exhausted. I got up to go but she asked me to remain. “I want to tell you something. Something that Reena told me when she was dying and awaiting the Goddess to call her.”
“What is it, Aunt Leena?” I said, seeing the sweat bead across her brow. I took a towel from the bedside and wiped it dry. Aunt Leena closed her eyes. I took it as a sign that it was soothing for her. Little did I know it was her gathering what little strength that she had left.
“Just before Reena died, she confessed something to me. Something that she did many years ago. Something that I had not been aware of. A deception.” My eyebrows raised, not in shock, but in curiosity.
“What kind of deception?”
“You know that the night that you were born, I also went into labor with my own child.” She said. I reminded Aunt Leena that I was aware of the tragic story of her stillborn child. “No, Yvaine,” Her tone was impatient and edged with irritation. “I need you to listen to me.” She pulled a frail, thin arm out from under her blankets. Weakly, she took my hand in its grasp and held it as tightly as she could muster. “The night that you were born, Reena gave birth to a stillborn child. Her handmaiden switched our babies because Reena could not stand that my child possessed the will to live while hers
had withered and died.”
My body sizzled as a shockwave rocked through me. “Aunt Leena, what are you trying to tell me?” I asked, suspecting that I knew the answer.
“You are my daughter, Yvaine,” Tears slipped from the corners of her closed eyes as she confessed the truth that she had held onto for many years. “You are my daughter and Reena stole you from me.” More tears poured as her body shook with sadness. “I hated her for telling me. I wanted to strike her, I even wanted to kill her, but she was dying. There wasn’t anything I could do that could make her suffer more.” She paused, taking in several deep breaths before continuing. “She asked me to never tell you. To keep you ignorant of the truth but I have decided that I will not do it. You deserve to know. That is why we are so alike. That is why I always felt like your mother. You are my daughter. My daughter.” Her eyes shone radiantly as she looked at me. In those brilliant pools of light, I found the love and acceptance that I had craved my entire life. Leena’s confession put everything into perspective. It explained why Reena had been so cold as I grew up. It was the reason why she always favored Ravene over me. Her selfishness robbed me of a mother’s love, but it also helped me become the woman that I was. I leaned over and kissed my real mother on the forehead. I touched my nose to hers, just like I had when I was a child and when I came back to the Island.
“Mama,” I said, gently touching the softness of her cheek and kissed her forehead again. I smiled but it was quickly erased as a disturbing thought came to me. “What about my father? Does that mean that Yvan was not my father...?” My voice trailed off as an entirely different reality settled over me.
“No. Yvan is your father.” She opened her sky-blue eyes and gazed up at me with the same adoration she had looked at me with since I could first remember. “Yvan was the love of my life and Reena was intensely jealous. Reena was infatuated with him, you see. She had had her eye on him since we were all very young, but Yvan and I loved each other. Several times, she confessed her love to him, but he made it clear that he didn’t share in it. He told her that he would always love me, and she made me suffer for it. Because Yvan and I knew how petty Reena could be, we tried to meet without her knowing. You were conceived on the night that she went to the Sacred Island. The night that Gweneth, my friend, was killed. No one else alive knows.”
I would be lying if I said that I remained strong. The truth was that I fell apart. Moved beyond words, I collapsed upon Leena’s frail, withering form and sobbed. Somehow, deep in the marrow of my bones, I had known that there was more to our link than just the aunt-niece connection. This woman, this beautiful, brave, valiant woman was my mother. As I lay there with her, not talking but cherishing every moment that we had, I thought of Reena and the cruel choice she had made. If I had been younger when I learned the secret that Reena had so cruelly kept, my feelings would be completely different. Being older, I could sympathize with her. Reena was insecure, fragile, envious, and weak. Whereas Leena had been quiet in her confidence, Reena disguised her shortcomings with bravado, trying to hide it in the awe that came with her position as High Priestess. We lay there for the span of an hour before a question struck me and I could not stop myself from asking her.
“I thought my father was the consort of the High Priestess?” I asked simply, confused now that I knew the truth.
“He was. When Reena became High Priestess, she claimed Yvan as her consort. Consorts do not get the luxury of refusing when they are chosen. And you know that the Consort is forbidden to lay with anyone except for the High Priestess. Your father faced exile and even death if anyone ever discovered us together. He refused to sleep with Reena. The baby that was born the same night as you, were sired by Aldan, Cal’s father. When you were born, Reena claimed that she slept with Yvan the morning that she went to the Rites. She held fast to the lie that your conception was still favored by the Goddess because it took place during the Rites.”
A tremor of revulsion coursed through me. Reena, the woman who had deceived me from birth, carried a child that bore the same blood as Cal. I swallowed, forcing the revulsion down, praying that I would not vomit right then and there.
“I can see that this upsets you. I wish I could tell you it wasn’t true, but it is. I want you to know that this is not your burden to carry. It is hers. Don’t allow what I told you to weigh upon your shoulders. Just remember that your father and I loved you very much.” She let go of my hand and reached up to touch my cheek. “Reena said that she told your father about the truth of your birth just before he died. She snuck down to his home and told him while he looked at her feverish, wild-eyed and angry. He refused to speak to her once she confessed to him. Yvan ordered her from the house, cursing her for denying him the chance to live happily with me and with you.”
“I feel like we’ve missed so much,” I said honestly, unable to fully voice what I wanted to say into words. “Why did she have to take that away from us?”
“Shh, don’t fret over what we cannot change, my love. We have lifetimes to spend together. Don’t let this keep you from what lies ahead.” Leena managed to say before her voice cracked and a new wave of tears slipped from her eyes. I sat with Leena, holding her hand until she fell asleep. With red-rimmed eyes, a runny nose, and a joyous heart, I went back to my work cooking dinner for when the children decided to come home.
************
Aunt Leena passed in her sleep that night. When the dawn came, I went to her room to change her bed linens and found her lying peacefully, a smile stretched across her beautiful, alabaster face, her gray-blonde hair spread out like a cascade of water across her pillow. Unable to control my emotions, I wept at her bedside. I wept for not knowing the truth sooner. For leaving the Island and not keeping in contact with her, causing her pain and worry—something that she confessed to me during her last hours. Lastly, I wept for the betrayal and deception she had had to live with. Her own sister had robbed her of the one thing that she wanted most; to be a mother. In her last moments upon this earth, she finally got to be what she had longed to be. Her final moments on this earth were as a mother. A mother reunited with her daughter that loved her beyond words. She gave me the gift of filling the emptiness inside of me that only she could fill. She was my mother. Leena, the woman who had given me her inherent strength. Leena, who had always treated me like her daughter when Reena had no time for me. Leena, the woman that I favored so closely. The woman whose nature was to comfort, to treat and soothe. The woman that I could spend a thousand lifetimes with but never come close to matching her.
************
When Leena passed, the time came that a woman of our line was not named as the High Priestess. Instead, one of my grandmother’s former Acolytes, an intelligent, highly capable woman named Emira, ascended to the role. Emira had come to the Island as an abandoned child with dark, walnut-brown skin, hair as black as a raven’s wing, and eyes the color of the sky reflected in the water. Emira’s selection was met with unanimous approval. The people of the Island knew that Emira would perform the role bestowed upon her with dignity, grace, reason, and fairness. She was a natural leader who had often been the problem solver amongst the Acolytes. Many of the residents were shocked by the idea of an Acolyte taking such a high, social position but Emira, in my opinion, as well as the opinion of the High Council, was the best woman suited for the job.
With Emira’s confirmation ritual completed, I made the conscious decision to leave the Grotto and to take up residence in one of the small houses on the edge of the marketplace. The choice came easy. I wanted a fresh start. A place with clean energy, where the traces of Reena’s memory didn’t haunt the walls but where Leena’s memory could thrive. A place where the sting of being denied my true mother wasn’t so strong. Most of all, I wanted a safe, comfortable home for my children. A place that was just ours and ours alone. At first, Emira fought me on my decision to leave, insisting that it was my family home for centuries, and it wasn’t right for her to take it from me. I assured her
that no one was taking anything away. That I was gladly giving it to her and hoped that she would be as happy there as my family had been. Emira thanked me but still occasionally made a point that it didn’t seem right.
Emira became a great friend of mine from that point on. She often sat at my table as she shared a meal with me. Even though her voice reigned supreme, she often asked for advice and used me to bounce ideas off.
“You’re the daughter and the niece of a High Priestess.” She often reminded me. “You’ve gotten to sit where no one else has sat. You’ve been witness to different types of rulers in action. If anyone knows what is right for the people, it is you.” Her flattery often embarrassed me, but I was always grateful for her trust and her dedication to do what was best for the collective. Emira’s selflessness was boundless. Never was it more apparent than the night of my Rites Ceremony when Emira exposed Tilme in her cruel, murderous, and usurping agenda.
Emira herself told me of what had happened that night. Something in dinner did not set well in Emira’s stomach. In search of a cure, she wandered outside their camp and found some fresh peppermint to chew as a curative. As she knelt in the weeds, Emira caught sight of Tilme walking from my grandmother’s house, carrying a small crockery jar in her hand, all the while wearing a victorious, sly, wicked smile across her mouth.
“Did you get rid of the old bitch?” A male voice came out from the darkness and stopped Tilme in her tracks. Afraid of being caught, Emira dropped low to the ground but still managed to see them clearly.
“I put crushed cherry pits in her food. She won’t be able to taste it because I added extra spice to mask the flavor. It’s what I did when I got rid Hiberia. The hag will be dead by morning.” Emira recalled Tilme’s malevolent voice and the way her crazed eyes sparkled in the moonlight.
The Island of Mists Page 38