The Keep

42. Of Fire-Ants, Numbers, and Runes

"Ugh," Hazel winched as she heard the unpleasant soft crack of her left palm. Her left hand was automatically drawn to her right cheek, softening the blow her skull has to endure as it crashed to the stone-floor. And by the sound of it, she must have fractured several of her fingers in the process.

Hazel barely had the time to recover from her dizziness of almost-bashing-herself-to-the-floor when the paralysis started to take its leave. 

The sudden tumbles and falls were never fun, but coming out of the paralysis was not exactly a delight either. It felt like hundreds of thousands of fire-ants were hatching from every nerve under Hazel's skin. They were crawling their ways out in their stinging bites, and spreading their colonies through every inch of her skin with their thorny little feet. 

Bracing herself through the pins and needles, Hazel slowly moved parts of her right-half body. Her fingers sent an army of billions angry fire-ants throughout her hand, to her shoulder, and to her cheek as she moved them. 

And by the time Hazel pulled herself sitting, swear words of all colors and nuances have fled Hazel's mouth. 

"...Grrndyllerws, Gurrlurrping Gargoyles!" Hazel hissed the train of words unfit for younger ears. The pricking thorny little feet of the fire-ants were spreading from the edge of her mouth as she finally freed her lips from the binding of the leftover paralysis.

Hazel made a various weird faces to shake her face muscles loose, wiggled her fingers and hands some more, and finally, she stood up. 

Hazel was swaying herself front and back to the toe and heel of her feet when Waldo popped up. (Ogre must've called him.) His eyes, while heavily uncaring, were ready.

"I'm fine, Waldo, I'm fine," Hazel said as she made a circular swing with her hip to stretch her rigid back muscles. 

"Thank you, Ogre," Hazel said to the worried raven which was hovering over her in circles. He was leading the whole flock of ravens to crowd over Hazel like a gigantic and very noisy black umbrella.

"I'm fine, thank you! Thank you all for caring!" Hazel had to shout out her sentence five times until the ravens believed her and broke their umbrella formation.

"Your hand needs mending," Waldo pointed at Hazel's left hand once the ravens have scattered away.

Hazel drew her wand, "Brackium Emendo," she chanted. She felt the fractured parts of her bones reached each other in a woven web and gathered themselves back together.

"See, I'm fine," Hazel waved her left hand. Seemingly satisfied with that, Waldo Disapparated.

The charm left stings in the muscles surrounding her previously fractured bones. They would probably be raw in inflammation for another day or two. The charm might mend the bones in one sway of her wand, but the muscles have to pay double the price for that. But it was a worthy price to pay, nonetheless.

"Waldo said that you had a fall!?" Aunt Gilly glided in such speed toward her that the air tailing behind her made a tiny blizzard. Hazel was expecting that, Waldo has made it to be his holy duty to report anything and everything to his true mistress.

"I'm fine, Aunt Gilly," Hazel said as she stretched herself to her sides.

"I don't like this, love. I don't like this at all. Not with the deaths of the family, and the cursed prophecy, and all," Aunt Gilly heaved her chest up and down in panic.

"I'm fine, really," Hazel ensured, but she was unheard by Aunt Gilly's continuous ramble of anxiety.

"You have been lenient with your potion, haven't you? It's all the excitements of the school, it is. All those youngsters, and all those intriguing numbers you have your head buried within. You should go back home. At least here, you'll have us to make you drink your potion," Aunt Gilly rambled on.