Trapped

Chapter 3

"So... the soul binding didn't work? Or did it claim Oeda's life instead?" Did the soul binding work beyond death?

My voice sounded strangled. But it was nothing compared to Trixy. At this point, Trix had been reduced to a puddle of tears. I quietly stuffed a napkin into her hands. The night had gone eerily silent. Even the crickets had stopped to listen. Outside, the moon was shining in its full, glorious form.

"Nobody knows. Magic works in its own mysterious way. Who knows what happened after death. Even the most powerful Fiorin seer could not summon Oeda from the realm of the souls." Umma shrugged.

I stared into the licking flames, heart twisting at the tragic ending. "And the war?"

"The Fiorins were a peaceful tribe. The cost of war was not worth it. They were no warriors. There was no chance of winning. Not unless they cursed the Whitehorns. They took what they could and fled in the dead of the night."

"If they had waited, then maybe all these would have been avoided."

"Perhaps."

"The Fiorins found Oeda?"

"With Raphael's body. They followed the blast and found her a short distance away, dragging the body along."

I fell silent. Trix had stopped sniffing but remained thoughtful. Sensing the end of questions, Umma gathered the empty bowls and hobbled into the kitchen. Her gnarled fingers were not suited for washing in cold water. She had been rubbing her joints more often these days.

"Go wash up and rest for the night." I patted Trix on her shoulders as I made to join Umma in the kitchen.

"Let me." I gently nudged Umma aside with my hip and took over the dishes. Umma ruffled my hair and mumbled her thanks.

I mulled over the story as I worked, finding the story strangely close to heart. A lump had been lodged in my throat by the end of the story.

Oeda must have been irreparably broken. I couldn't imagine the full scale of how that had affected her. I'd never had anyone close to my heart in that way, but if anything were to happen to Trix or Umma...

At some point, I found myself staring blankly at the dishes – hands not moving for how long, I had no idea. The bite of cold water snapped me out of my reverie, and I quickly finished up the chores.

~*~*~

I rolled on my stomach and thumbed through <<Potions and Tonic for the Body>>. Spelled books were my favorite. They were always in clean, pristine condition no matter the years and extent of usage. I took a whiff of the book. The sweet, woody scent was a familiar sort of comfort. There's simply no better way to recharge than to roll on the sheets with a book. I thumbed through the pages. A great variety of potions were featured in this book. Potions for tummy ache, vomiting, migraine, cold feet, cold, cough – a potion for each and every kind of ailment. Maybe there was one for painful joints.

"You can really choose a good book, Trix."

"Mm hmm... The Archives is lovely." Trix mumbled, barely audible. I peered over her shoulder at the book that had captured her attention.

"I need to do this next week." Trix pointed to the moving picture she was fixated on, trying to remember the steps required to create amulets. Unlike books we had at home, spelled books can contain information in a myriad of ways. Moving pictures, smells, sounds and a combination of them were some of the more commonly used methods of conveying the required information.

"We can practice together at home if you'd like." I offered.

"Sure! Maybe Umma can give me some tips too!"

~*~*~

Running. We were running. Faster, faster, faster! My legs screamed. My lungs burned. We were being chased. Dark blue flames engulfed the tower behind. Sporadic bursts of white light and sounds of metal on metal filled the night.

A split second of memory flashed. A soft and sweet "I love you both" followed by a kiss on my forehead and a fluttering smell of honeysuckle. A frill of soft silk brushed my skin as the beautiful woman turned and left in a hurry.

Run. Run before it's too late. Before the sharp teeth come.

I skidded. A strong arm hooked me up from behind before I could fall. I was half running, half slipping on ice.

The scene had morphed into a snowy landscape in daylight. We were being hunted by hounds. Vicious barks sounded, the leaves behind us rustled. The grip on my hand tightened for the last time before he pushed me away and swung to a stop in front of the hounds.

"RUN!" he bellowed. I shook my head.

"Run before it's too late!" He drew the twin swords strapped across his back and faced the hounds. I turned.

I fell.

The scene changed again as I fell. The smell of acrid smoke filled my nose. I landed roughly on all fours on a charred ground, in front of a man.

My hands shook as I scooped him up, supporting the fragile body by his neck. His body scalding hot, skin burnt in many places. He looked different. But it was the same person. I was sobbing as he struggled to breathe.

"Stay with me. Help will come soon. Stay with me." I begged. His shallow breathing slowed. The rise of his chest now barely visible. "Mother please, I will give you anything. Anything to give his life back. Anything..."

But the Mother did not listen.

The Mother took his life away.

The Mother took him away.

I jolted, jerking my head up from a hard surface. Another disturbing dream. How many had it been?

Outside, an owl hooted in the night, its yellow eyes glistening in the moonlight. I raised myself on an elbow and pushed the book away. I had fallen asleep reading again. Good thing I had kept my mouth closed this time. I rotated my neck, cracking the stiff joints at various spots and blew out a long breath.

Beside me, Trix was asleep, snuggling under the patchwork blanket that we shared. My sister and I had shared a room for as long as I could remember, living under the care of Umma. Memories of my childhood were scant and distant.

I remembered playing on a big grass field. I remembered generally mild and happy days that suddenly ended after a fire scattered us. We fled to Mount Betel with Umma after the fire. My parents were lost in the fire, Umma had mentioned. I did not understand what it meant back then, only that we would not see our parents again. I had initially thought that maybe they had gotten lost on the way here. It was only when I was much older that I understood that they had passed on.

My dear old grandmother had been the pillar of our little family unit since. We were struggling to make ends meet, with Umma working as a humble seamstress in the earlier days. I would make up the differences with fruits I could pick from the nearby forest, and unsold bread from the bakery in town. It was until her gradually failing eyes meant she could not thread needles anymore that I started taking over. By then, I was fifteen – old enough to work. I started out small, but the range of tonic, potions and salves I sold was growing for the last three years.

The owl outside ascended into the night sky with a few quick successive flaps of its wings, sudden motion bringing me back to the present. It's late. There's much to do tomorrow. I'd better clock a few more hours before the day breaks. I snuggled beside Trix under the patchwork blanket and joined her for the night.