I am Mercy

by Mandi Lynn

  All I can do is nod my head, because I understand all too well how she feels. Some nights I look at the moon and know Garren is the cause for the ache in my heart, the ache that can only be mended if he were here. The pain is physical in a way emotions never should be. It makes me weak; it makes me useless. My heartbreak is a hindrance, an ache and pull on a life that must continue, even if I’m unwilling.

  “It will go away,” I tell her, but it feels like a lie. The words come but mean nothing. I don’t know if Hadley believes them, but she hears me as she nods her head, dizzy with lost tears.

  “Okay,” she says.

  ~~~

  The moon is high in the sky and Hadley still sits within proximity of the lagoon. I can see her face contort through the night, under a constant debate as to stay or to go. Stay and be brave and settle into this new life. Leave and remember what love is, only to be tormented by the impossible notion of the concept.

  I don’t speak to her. Instead I let her decide what to do. Hadley is the only one who can make this decision to move on. Even if I forced her to stay she would wander, always wondering about the possibility of seeing Valen again.

  She gets up slowly. Hadley finds my face in the darkness. Her eyes are lost and she looks to me for permission to leave. She stands but doesn’t move. I keep my face neutral, but the longer her gaze holds mine, the more I feel my features slip into a frown. Finally she steps away and finds the familiar path she takes every night through the forest.

  She doesn’t go far. I can just make out the silhouette of her figure when she stops. Hadley drops to the ground on her knees and makes a quick shrill cry. It isn’t for Valen—this is much more physical. As fast as she can, Hadley pushes herself through the trees of the forest and comes to cower near the water. Her hand clutches at her chest.

  “Hadley?” I go to her aid, kneeling next to her on the ground.

  She breathes fast labored breaths. Her eyes are frantic as she looks at me. Words linger on her lips, but she can’t seem to find the breath to speak her words. Instead she opens up her hand to me, uncurling her fingers to reveal the stone she must always clutch. The surface is rough, as I had last remembered it, but the color is off. Instead of the vibrant green I had known, it has faded to almost white. It takes on a transparent quality, as if I can see straight through it to Hadley’s palm beneath.

  “It hurts,” she says.

  Her eyes dart across the lagoon in frantic, scared little motions. She’s like a small pup that has just been scolded for acting disorderly, whimpering, looking for the source of her mistake.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  She doesn’t speak for a long time. She doesn’t hear my words at all. Her eyes dart and survey, looking—for what, I can’t imagine. Her fingers tread across the surface of her stone, a constant motion that does little to soothe her mind. Dark hair falls over her eyes as she shifts, shading her face so I can’t make out her features.

  “Hadley?” I offer my hand, brushing my skin against her shoulder. She jumps when she sees my hand, and when I see her face again I realize just how scared she is.

  “I—” she starts.

  Hadley’s fingers shake around her stone and I watch as she takes the time to breathe deeply, closing her eyes in the simplest of ways.

  “Hadley,” I say again.

  “I just wanted to see him one last time,” she says. “I promise. Last night was going to be my final visit to Valen.”

  Her eyes open bright and glossy. Anguish radiates off her like an aura that announces its presence to all within the perimeter.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her.

  She shakes her head, looking past me to the trees at my back. Her eyes glaze over without focus, staring at the forest as a whole instead of one focal point. As the time passes and her gaze continues, I see her lose herself to the vast landscape of the trees.

  “Hadley,” I say again.

  She jumps at the sound of her name and brings herself back to where she stays rooted at the lagoon’s edge.

  “What happened?”

  “The forest,” she says. “It hurts to go there.” She watches the stone in her hands, running her fingers over the surface like it may disappear.

  It has returned to normal again—the bright green I had always known it to be. Hadley seems more relaxed now, running the stone over her hands, sure that it is there.

  “When I went between the trees, I felt myself shift. I couldn’t breathe—and that shouldn’t matter, because I’m an Essence like you told me, Luna—but it mattered this time. I needed air. It felt as if I was dying, and I don’t understand how that’s possible. But there was a ripping, like someone took hold of my heart and was tearing it from my chest—so familiar to how heartbreak can be but much more physical. And I looked at my stone and it was gone.”

  She stops to bring the stone to her chest again, the sight of the stone no longer enough to assure her it is here. She needed to feel it against her skin, but even that is impossible.

  “You dropped it?”

  “No,” Hadley says, quick to disregard me. “It was in my hand—it’s always in my hand!” Her words echo across our small expanse.

  I see emotions build in her that she is trying so hard to mask and forget.

  “I felt it slip away. No matter how tight I clutched it, I felt it disappear.” Her voice is quiet and reverent. “I can’t be with Valen,” she says.

  Her voice is so strong in this single moment that I’m sure she’s only lying to herself, but when I look at her I see a strength I’d never seen before. She holds herself with determination, and even if she is trying to convince herself to believe her own words, I feel she may be able to live them.

  “He’s human,” I say. “You’re not.”

  “Yes,” Hadley says. She nods her head like my words are the simplest, truest form words can take, but she acts as if it doesn’t bother her. “I’m not human. I can’t leave this lagoon in the night to escape to him anymore.”

  “What did you see when you’re with him?”

  She smiles in a tired way. “He was always asleep. I never woke him because I was afraid that if I did, he wouldn’t see me and that …” She stops to take a deep breath. “… that would hurt so much more than never knowing I was there.”

  We kneel on the stony beach of the lagoon, the night already passing in a fast motion that we can’t control. Only subtle movements stir in the forest as animals scurry across the earth and through the trees. Crickets murmur their songs, singing a lullaby of sleep.

  “He thinks I’m dead,” Hadley says suddenly. “They searched for me, but when my body was never recovered they pronounced me dead. I don’t know how Valen mourned for me. I thought that if something ever happened to me, he would stop at nothing to save me. But every night I visit him, he seems so content. I thought he would be up until the morning’s daybreak, thinking of where I may be.”

  I don’t say anything. Her words flow, and a struggle comes with what they could mean—that maybe Valen didn’t love her as much as she had thought.

  “But I suppose it doesn’t matter because in the end, I’m dead, and he’s not.”

  I want to refute her words, but I don’t.

  Hadley runs the stone in her hand, a constant motion she doesn’t seem aware of. And the night goes on, like nothing has changed.

  L.

  “Luna?”

  Hadley’s voice comes from behind me. The daylight sky is bright as birds chirp their familiar songs. The atmosphere speaks of nothing but peace, but when I hear Hadley’s voice, a hint of attentiveness is in her words.

  I turn to face her and see her holding the orange gown that I had used to transport Clara’s body. The fabric has faded and some of the stitching has been pulled, but otherwise it is unharmed. “What is this from?” she asks.

  I walk forward and take the gown from her arms. The simple piece of silk seems so empty because Clara is no longer within its folds.

  “There was a
baby—her name was Clara—who was long dead by the time I came here. But I think this was her mother’s,” I say.

  Hadley doesn’t ask any questions as to who Clara was or how I knew the dress belonged to her mother. In fact Hadley never asked many questions. She’s always taken my words for what they are. Even when I tried to explain the concept of being an Essence, she didn’t deny my words or prove me wrong; she just took it as fact. And now she holds this stone that shines green, acting as if it is a mirror to her soul, unable to let it go. It’s been weeks since I’d seen her fall to the ground, screaming in pain as the moon shone bright in the evening sky. She hasn’t attempted to leave in the night since then.

  “Clara. Is she the one in the cave?”

  My head shoots up at her words. I hadn’t realized Hadley had seen Clara. The only time I took Hadley in the cave was to locate her own body.

  “You saw her?” I ask. My grip lessens on the gown and for the first time I see the cave behind Hadley, open and unmasked. The sun’s rays travel through the darkness and catch the edges of the crystals embedded in the walls. A small spark of light peeks through the darkness.

  When Hadley nods her head, she does so slowly, like she’s afraid she may have broken an important rule. “I wanted to see if I could find your body, but I just found Clara—and the gown was near her.” She points to the fabric wrapped around my hands. I look down at the silk, and when I do I can almost picture Clara’s small form when it had peeked through the folds.

  “My body isn’t in there,” I say.

  Hadley nods her head, like this is what she expected. I wonder at all the thoughts that must run through her head, how there must be so many questions, but none of which she ever chooses to ask. She possesses a certain wisdom and bliss that I only wish to master.

  “Have you worn it?” she asks.

  “What?”

  Hadley takes the gown from my hands and holds it by the shoulder seams so we can see the skirts fall toward the ground. The bodice is a lighter shade with darker orange stitching, while the skirts fade away to the same shade of orange. The sleeves stretch all the way down to arm’s length, bearing tight until the wrist, where they flare out. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.

  “Have you worn the dress?” Hadley asks, clarifying this time.

  She holds out the dress and examines it, looking for any tears that may qualify it as unusable. But the fabric is untorn as she holds it out for me, seeing if it may fit.

  “Why would I wear a dress like that?”

  Hadley smiles, folding the gown in layers over her arms. She makes sure to not let it touch the ground. “Don’t you want to be beautiful when Garren comes?”

  It almost hurts to hear his name said from another’s mouth. I don’t speak up and tell her how Garren’s coming for me seems impossible. How I left him, and he doesn’t even know where I am.

  “Come,” she says. With one arm she holds the gown, but she uses her free hand to offer her grip. We go to the cave, and she doesn’t slow as the crystals glow faintly and come into focus as we near. “Put it on.”

  “Hadley,” I say, trying not to take the dress, but she drops it in my arms anyway.

  “Please,” she says in a clear voice. “If not for me, for Garren.”

  And again his name stops me. Small memories form, and a scared voice in my head tells me not to let the images surface because it hurts to remember him, to remember he isn’t here; that maybe he doesn’t want to be here. But I ignore the voice and let myself imagine Garren coming for me and seeing me in this dress as something beautiful—it seems so dangerous to have such a hope.

  “He’s not coming back, Hadley,” I tell her.

  Her face drops as her smile fades away. And I think for a moment that she must understand how I feel—what it is like to hope the one that I love will find me, even when it seems impossible. As she backs from me the smallest bit, Valen’s name whispers off her lips, almost unperceptive.

  “Can you put it on anyway?” she asks.

  Her voice is less sure now, like my answer doesn’t matter. In spite of it all I grip the dress in my arms and turn my back to her to change. Hadley’s smile returns in a meek way, as she leaves me to put on the dress.

  My worn skirts fall from my body, like an old skin. Garren had been the one to find me this clothing. He had gotten it from a woman in the market—I can’t even remember her name anymore. Taking off the kirtle and chemise seems like an act of betrayal, but I push away the old clothing and step into the gown Hadley insists I wear.

  The delicate fabric glides across my body like silk, and once again I stand as an Essence, wishing only to feel the touch of the fabric against my skin, the soft caress of the fibers gliding across a landmine of senses.

  “Hadley?” I speak softly.

  She comes almost immediately and doesn’t need me to instruct her any further as she steps behind me and ties the corset around my bodice.

  “It fits like a wonder,” Hadley says.

  She finishes with the back and I turn to face her. The dress bows out at my hips, the skirts flowing over one another. The two shades of orange seem so vibrant in the forest scenery. The sleeves are tight around the bend of my arms until they reach my wrist, the silk flowing out and away.

  “Here,” Hadley says.

  She takes my braid in her hands, working to unwind my hair. As she does so, I see the long golden tendrils flow over my shoulders as they never have before. Mama wouldn’t let me wear my hair down—it wasn’t proper.

  Hadley twists the hair around the back of my head, letting some of the strands frame my face.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making you beautiful,” Hadley says. “You may not see your hair, but it’s a mess.” She tugs and pulls until the strands run through her fingers without trouble. “There.”

  I step away. Hair no longer falls over my shoulder in a braid. Instead all I see are a few strands hanging around my eyes.

  “I pulled up all your hair, like the way I wear mine,” Hadley says.

  I imagine we both look like we are ready to attend a ball where we are meant to meet our suitors, when in reality it is just the two of us in the forest making quiet wishes in our hearts.

  “Why?” I ask.

  Hadley wavers at my words, but I don’t see the light ever leave her eyes. “Because you and I, even if the world never sees us again, we deserve to be beautiful.”

  There’s sadness in her voice which she wishes to conceal. Her face displays a smile, but a hitch in her words tells me that, even though she may believe the words she speaks, she doesn’t want it to be this way. She wants to be alive and human, and to fall in love and live a life that can be seen and heard. And touched and smelled.

  Hadley comes forward and hugs me. I’m not sure if she does it because she believes I need it, but when her arms wrap around me I realize she is the one who needs the comfort. Her small frame falls against me like she’s given up. Her shoulders shake in my arms, as if a child crying.

  I wish I could take away the hurt.

  LI.

  Hadley and I watch as it happens. A man wanders through the forest. It’s midday, a bright afternoon, and he’s alone. His clothing suggests he might be a peasant where I come from, but the pack of food in his hand speaks another story. He seems lost in the forest as he wanders along the path without any real direction, but at the same time he seems completely at ease with the idea of never finding society again.

  Hadley was the first one to spot him. She came running to me, trying so hard to keep her voice down, like he might hear and come to investigate.

  “There’s a man. I don’t know who he is, but I think he’s come from town.” Her eyes are frantic with the words, like she may have seen a ghost approach from behind.

  “Where?”

  She turns to point me in the direction she had come from and I see the outline of his figure between the trees. He’s tall as he careens through the branches, but his build is small
enough that, even if I were human, I wouldn’t fear him as much as most men I’ve seen in my life. He could hurt me if he wanted to, but only if he put all his energy and effort into the act.

  “Quiet down,” I whisper to Hadley.

  She seems to stop breathing at my words.

  I look at her, trying to alert her about how important it is that he doesn’t discover where we are. We are an Essence—he shouldn’t be able to see us, but the idea that we may be discovered still worries my heart.

  The man stumbles. He holds something in his hands, and as he comes closer, I see it is a glass bottle. It’s empty, but even then, he holds it with a fierce grip. As he tries so hard to keep his balance, I recognize him as the same type of man I would see in the tavern.

  “What’s he doing?” Hadley asks, next to me.

  I push her behind me slightly, in a way to quiet her.

  We watch him together. He doesn’t seem to grow farther away like I wish. Instead, with each stumble and step, he comes closer, crossing the distance between us. He doesn’t see us even as his head lifts and looks in our general direction. He seems so drunk that, even if I were human, he wouldn’t see me.

  “What do we do?” Hadley says in a quiet voice.

  He continues toward us, clutching the bottle.

  So many paths are in this forest, and this is the one he chooses to follow. It’s one that will lead him directly to the lagoon. His steps are flawed and he sways from side to side within the path, but sure enough, he makes his way closer to where Hadley and I stand.

  “Luna?” Hadley speaks up again.

  Worry radiates off her as she tugs at my arms for attention, but I don’t let my gaze leave the man. He could end up just like Hadley, going to the lagoon and becoming its next victim. It’s a simple process—all he would have to do is step in the water and his human life would be over.

  “We can’t do anything,” I whisper back to her. The air is so still and quiet in this moment that I fear my voice will upset the balance in nature.

  The birds have quieted; the wind has died down—the only sound is the man’s feet kicking aside debris from the path.