The Whispers Of Trees

8. Interrogations

Achillia had been searching for Orym and Alimar since their escape and Alea had fallen into the middle of it all, Faelyn having no exceptions spared against her either.

The village leader seemed to think that, despite Alimar's instructions of travelling North to the poison, Alea knew the exact location and would divulge it to her if threatened.

But if the truth be told, she didn't know where he was, all she could tell everyone who asked was that he was alive, that much she could feel.

But because of her unwillingness to cooperate, her freedom had been reigned in.

Like a hound on a leash, she was forced away from the woods and confined to her home and the small area surrounding, all the while followed and watched by guards. It was admittedly better than the Cambium cells, but she still felt trapped.

It hadn't taken long for some in the village to begin uttering whispers of sorcery and magic, Alea being the sensitive one to nature and its inhabitants, was a direct target for the fear and uproar after word spread of Orym's return.

Nothing had come of it, as of now, but terror nibbled at her mind should people start paying mind to the lies and rumours, especially with the myths of The Belvik Woods adding to the fuel.

The thought had crossed her mind to flee and travel in search of her husband, but it would leave Faelyn and her family without comfort and if anything were to happen to them then she would never be able to forgive herself.

So she told herself that she would stay, for as long as she possibly could.

Sitting in her kitchen, as she had the day fate had swerved Orym back into her arms, her eyes aimlessly stared at her garden that had begun to overgrow.

The wind chimes that Faelyn had made in her boredom and had gifted to her mother, clicked and rung out in the aggravated wind.

She could feel a storm coming, drifting in from the North, one that would confine her even more so to the insides of the place that didn't feel like home as much anymore.

Nothing felt right with Orym gone, the bed felt cold as her arm would reach out to him in the morning sun, falling onto chilled and empty sheets.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were lonely and she had to remind herself to prepare a meal for one unless Faelyn stopped by, but with recent events and measures in place, it became less of an occurrence.

A rapid knock resonated from the door, one she had grown familiar with.

"Come on in" she called, her body not wasting the little energy it had to open the door.

Achillia sauntered in with two guards that she halted at the door as she continued.

"To what do I owe this visit?" Alea asked, her mind focusing on the warmth radiating in her palms and fingers from the quickly cooling cup of tea.

"Can I?" the woman questioned, indicating to the chair opposite.

Nodding affirmatively, Achillia pulled out the chair quietly and sat.

"Are you well?" she began, watching Alea's hands fussing with a clearly hand-made teapot, attempting to pour the liquid into a porcelain teacup. She was different, behind closed doors, at least in Alea's home, she was more reserved and calm. But Alea knew she could switch to her usual self with little to trigger it.

"We both know that you are not here for a natter. I am spent, Achillia, with your interrogations and the never-ending yearning for my husband's return, I have nothing left to give"

"All of this could be avoided if you were to just tell us where it is he has gone. I allowed you to return home for the sake of your child, but you must return the favour" she said almost as though she were a friend offering consolation.