Liridia

Chapter 18: Black magic and memories

Liridia
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'When hellfire rains in its glorious light
The stars will align to shine ever bright
As the world is awash in the devil's legacy
He will answer the prayers with a killer's clemency'

It was a heretic's poem. They believed the world would end and God would let our Lands burn. They believed that the Devil would set the world on fire and watch it burn from the heavens when he overthrew the Lord. He would listen to the prayers of the damned and answer with death.

They were called 'The Devil's followers', but they called themselves 'The True'. People called them 'Damned as whôres'.

I don't want to think about how I left Hywel. It was horrible of me to be so frosty, but I feared that Aldwin would've been a bit suggestive about what we were doing. Which was nothing. We weren't doing anything. Hywel is a nice person. He's lost his mother, and who knows who else.

He's just... intriguing. He's patient, and unexpected. He needs this, needs someone to be a friend. A proper friend. I shouldn't even talk to him, let alone spend hours in the library reading with him over my shoulder tracing the words with his fingers.

His jaw sharp, his eyes soft, his voice a lament of pain and the unknown.

And Aldwin is being a twit. He is dark and brooding, yet funny and lighthearted. He confuses me with his constant shift in moods. He is either the 'let's save my sister and stick to the plan' Aldwin or the 'disowned poncy prince' Aldwin or the occasional 'I'm a decent person and lets share our feelings and some quality banter' Aldwin.

It's exasperating.

My ârse is right sore. The days ride to the seer is taking longer than expected. She moves around a lot. But she is always in this province, no matter what.

In the stables before I left, I picked my horse. His name was Cavalry.

And he is a right ârsehole. He's bucked me off twice, and I constantly have to squeeze my thighs into his sides so I don't fall off. My hands are sore from gripping the bridle so tightly. He's nearly bit me and he's walked really slowly through a docile river so my boots are squelching.

And this when we finally left the walls of Nohma. Like he let his true feelings for women riders out as soon as no one was looking. Dîckhead.

I could hear the seer singing since I set foot into the marshes. We could've gone around, but I brought my feet up so Cavalry gets to suffer on his own. We turned in circles to hear if it got any louder and continued West. Her little shack came into view and Cavalry whinnied as a squeezed my thighs harder. I tied him to the post outside and knocked twice on the door.

She stopped singing.

I opened the door with my knife drawn, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Jana. I need your help." I called into he shadows. Her little pot was boiling over the hearth and it filled the room with an acid scent.

I stepped cautiously further into the room, my heartbeat thumping in my ears.

"Jana? I know you are here. Your voice... I heard it from a hundred paces away." I state as blunt as a butter knife.

A sudden weight fell onto my shoulders and I fell, my knife still in my firm grip. I pinned on my stomach with the wind knocked out of my chest. My knife met flesh and a hiss fell from her lips. I cut her deep. She fell from the beams in the ceiling. Like a cat.

"Still got it, you old hag." I joked. She cackled and got up, weaving her fingers to heal her cut. She walked silently over to the hearth and lifted the pot, grabbing a cup and pouring the ominous liquid, her eyes never straying from mine.