Enchantingly Different

Chapter 5

The first thing I become aware of, is the fact that I feel weighed down by an unseen force and I’m unable to speak, almost as if I’m bound and gagged. I try to open my eyes, but they seem far too heavy and the more I try to pry them open, the harder they seem to push back down.

Perhaps I have died and gone to heaven, I think to myself. It doesn’t seem so bad. At least I have the beautiful music to listen to; the soft voice swirling around my mind that keeps me in this serene and tranquil state. It must be the voice of an angel.

My fingers twitch and I feel something soft between my fingers like fur. It tickles my skin and must be the reason that I feel so warm. I feel almost too warm. When heaven is described to us all, we picture white fluffy clouds, bright light, and freedom.  I feel trapped and if it weren’t for the voice singing above me, I would be afraid. No, I must be alive, but how did I get here?

I trace my mind back through what happened and draw a blank. I was lying on the ground, waiting to die, yet death never came. All I can recall is a blue light and… that smile. It was so beautiful, yet I remember no details about the person it belonged to.

The voice draws near and I try to force my eyelids open, gaining a brief, blurry glimpse of the room I’m inside and a figure standing not far away from me. Her back is to me and she wears a cape with the hood pulled up, so I get no clue as to her identity. I can tell that she is standing before a fire as the glow from the flames surrounds her small figure.

I realize that I am not in fact tied up, but I am covered in many layers of the furs that I had felt, which is also probably why I feel extremely warm.

My lids flutter closed again and it’s a fight to get them open again. However, when I succeed, I know that I have won the small victory and the room comes into clearer view, revealing more details that I didn’t see before.

The ceilings are low and bare wooden beams look to be bending to support the weight of the roof above. There is hardly any furniture, except the bed in which I lay in and a small table and chairs across the room by the fire. There seems to be a draft and cool air whips at my face, which accounts for the cape that the mystery woman is wearing and the many layers of fur.

She hums a different melody and moves over to the other side of the room where there is a small unit against the wall that eluded my gaze before. She opens small drawers, pulling out glass bottles and bunches of herbs. She comes back, but I still can’t see her face due to the hood that is pulled down, obscuring it from view. She throws some of the herbs in a large pot that sits over the open flames and tips something inside from a small glass bottle with a tap of her delicate finger.

“You’re awake,” she states quietly, taking me by alarm. I try to open my mouth to respond, but my vocal chords still seem to be frozen. “Don’t strain yourself. Rest.”

She pulls a cup from a shelf and dips it into the pot, filling it with liquid, before turning to me. She comes close, her figure outlined in light, throwing her features into shadow. Who is she? The fact that I can’t see her, just adds to my frustration and distrust of her.

Almost sensing my discomfort, she settles down on the bed next to me with the cup in her one hand and a candle in the other. She sets the candle down on a small stool next to the bed, as well as the cup, and pushes the hood back off her face.

If I hadn’t already lost my voice, I would have lost it in that instant. The sight of what is hidden beneath the heavy material makes my heart jolt and something pull deep down inside of me. Hidden beneath the hood is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen and I find myself staring open mouthed at her.

I have to fight to close my mouth and swallow loudly to bring myself back to my senses.

“You won’t be able to speak just yet,” she says, her voice soft and light, almost musical. “You should drink this and try to sleep some more. You will regain your strength faster that way.”