Poisoned Lips

5: Hope

As usual, ignore weird mistakes and enjoy.
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"People like us? We should never hope for too long. Never."

"I don't know where the cure is. I told you. No one is sure if this 'cure' exists." Lydia muttered.

"Why are we here then?" Devland asked.

"Because I have a piece of information that no one has."

"Which is...?" He prodded.

"I will tell you after I'm done explaining the past."

"No one cares," Freyja said. "We just want to know what you know."

Devland and Azalea nodded in agreement.

"Are you sure?"

"Just spit it out." Azalea stood up and burped.

Freyja frowned at her but the others weren't fazed.

Lydia said nothing.

"Just tell us you don't know where the cure is and move on." Azalea snapped.

"I already said that..."

"Well just tell us what you know." Azalea fumed. "This isn't funny Lydia. Put yourself in our shoes. Imagine having the world want your death. Heck, imagine wanting your death! Do you think it's easy? We finally have one chance. One chance to live our lives as we should but some old ugly hag is pretending to know it all and stop us. You know what? I'm done. Thank you for your soup. But that's it. I'm leaving."

"Fine, you want to know what I have?" Lydia yelled, slamming her hands on the table. "This." She dropped a small piece of paper on the table. "Have fun figuring it out."

Freyja quickly snatched it and read it. Unfortunately, it was written in the same language as the brown book her mother gave her. The paper was crinkled and burnt at the edges. It looked old like it was written centuries ago. Maybe that was the case.

"Can I have a look?" Devland asked.

She handed it to him and watched as he came to the same realization as her.

"We can't interpret it, can we?"

"No, you can't." Lydia smiled.

"Well, this is not enough information, Lydia!" Azalea exclaimed.

"Make it enough."

"Well...can you interpret it?" Freyja asked her.

"Of course not. If I could, I would have given it to all the others who came before you."

"Where are they now?" Freyja inquired.

"Dead."

"How?!" Azalea screamed, tears in her eyes.

"Well... they wanted to try their luck and get the note interpreted. Moving on, that's all I have for all of you -"

"What do you mean dead?" Azalea asked, her voice breaking at the end. "They can't just die! And, what do you know? Dozens of Magis escape Eudop yearly. They could be alive."

"Devland, calm your friend down."

Freyja blocked them out of their head and tried to concentrate. Her mother had told her that Lydia could be of help. The only information Lydia gave her was the small note. But it wasn't even useful. She would need to travel the whole of Daerris to find someone who knew the language. With the guards after her and the people who hated her kind, it was impossible. Lydia was useless. She needed air to think.