The Threadbound series : Unraveling

Mourn the Living

Alex

"Please, I will do whatever you want," I begged.

"I know you will," Lark said in an authoritative tone.

Kit was coming at us with a sword - his teary eyes seeking apologies.

All of a sudden there was Tara covered in blood, a wise lady who didn't deserve that gruesome death, a little girl wailing, and then there was Marcus Burns with blood spilling from his throat.

"Alexander," a voice shook me from my slumber. My eyes fluttered open, greeted by the concerned face of Sashelle Dantes. Her hair cascaded in loose curls around her face, beautifully framed by the afternoon light that spilled through the windows. She is ethereal.

"When did you come here?" I feigned shock.

Her response was hesitant, words faltering as she spoke, so unlike her,

"I... um... I came early this morning, after the funeral... we talked?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, her gaze fixed on me as if she were trying to coax a memory from the depths of my mind.

I couldn't help but crack a smile at her apparent uncertainty.

"You were joking", she retaliated by playfully tossing a pillow at my face.

In a flash, her laughter froze, and it was as if she had a sudden realization.

"I should go. It's almost noon," she said abruptly, her emotional shield snapping back into place.

I couldn't help but protest, my desperation creeping into my voice.

"You just buried your grandmother, Dantes. Nobody expects you to teach a class or whatever elemental business you have got going on."

"She was not my grandmother. She married my late grandfather, and my dad is not her son," she stated matter-of-factly.

What she did next was unexpected. Instead of climbing out of the bed, she pulled her covers and settled next to me. Then, she started to talk.

"My mother used to hit me", she began, her tone devoid of emotion, as if discussing the weather or making a passing observation.

I remained silent, knowing that she didn't speak much, and I didn't want to break whatever spell had compelled her to open up.

"She was a non magic, my mother. A healer's apprentice—helped in making tonics and all. She fell in love with my dad, and they married. I don't know much about what went wrong. Once, I heard that they lost a child before me, and that broke them. Anyway, my dad was tied to his job, and my mother was tied to me. Maybe it was her depression. It first started with small things. She would not give me food , a small beating followed by shouting, and one day she hit me. My dad saw it. He, despite being one of the most powerful elemental air hunters and a governor, cried when he saw me cry. He didn't hit her or choke the air out of her lungs. Sometimes I wish he did. However, he asked her to leave Milandor and never set foot here ever again. And she did leave."

Her voice remained eerily calm as she continued her narrative.

"My dad did everything for me. It was just him and me for a long time. But the Governor of Sylvanwood cannot leave his duties, and once again, he was tied to his job. We did spend time together; he made an effort—always did. He made sure I realized I was his first priority. But most of the time, I was alone.

Except for Granny. She didn't have any kids and I was closest to what she had as a grandchild. I think she saw herself in me - A wanderer alone, free to roam and to roam,Yet never finding a place to call home.

She also had portaling skills like me, and she used to turn up at my house on the most random occasions, Dantes recounted, a distant smile forming on her lips. Once, when Dad returned from work, Granny and I were making sandcastles in the living room. My dad was horrified and asked, Where did you get this sand from? Granny casually replied, From Thalassoria beach."

The warmth in her voice as she recalled the memory was palpable.

She went on about how she used to visit Elders house back in Arcanara. But my mind was stuck at Thalassoria beach. The crime I committed. How Lionel Stride led me straight to the dungeons. How no one guard seemed to care about our presence because he was manipulating their minds on the way in. Lionel Stride, a healer apprentice, used veil magic on Bone Island. Lionel Stride did the impossible.

The weight of my secrets was crushing me, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my turmoil from Sasha.

I used to believe that threadhunters, with their elemental powers, were the strongest of all Veil Weavers. Apparently, I was wrong—so wrong. I ruminate on what I know. The healers wove life threads and emotion threads. They could slightly manipulate emotions, but manipulate minds? Erase memories? I had never heard of that. But Lionel Stride could do that. And Lark, who used to be a Threadhunter healer back in his day, could talk directly into a person's mind. Maybe he could also do the things Stride did. If he could, we had bigger problems—because how could you outmaneuver a mind reader? How could you plan your next move when he could see your next ten moves and predict the later twenty?

My hands reached for Dantes's head, and I gently stroked her hair.

"She made me feel less lonely, Alex," she said, and my heart skipped a beat - Alex.

Guilt flooded my senses.

"Then I went to the Academy, made friends with Naf and Sru, and eventually became a Commander. I got busy, and like my dad, I stopped visiting her... I, um,"

she choked on her words and tears streamed down her cheeks.

I held her closer as she grieved for the departed, while I mourned the living.