Roy gasped, clenching at the cuts on his forearm as fangs cut into his mind. Gnashing teeth and hissing echoes filled his dreams with dread. He rubbed his eyes, relieved at the sight of sunlight peeking through large red curtains. As he felt the fabric in the bed, he realized he was no longer languishing on the mountain. He sensed an overwhelming feeling of relief like a warm blanket.
“Bad dreams?” A voice chimed from the fireplace. Roy looked out as a woman stood by a roaring fire. Her sapphire eyes watched him as though he were made of porcelain.Groß yawned, hopping up on the bed. The boy winced as the bed shook his wounds. Groß lowered to get a better look at the boy. A barrel-sized head was staring with droopy red eyes.
“That’s Groß.” The woman smiled, “He hasn’t left your side since you got here.”
Roy stared at the dog silently, holding his breath. Groß got up and leaned forward, nose flaring like a heartbeat before a large huff of air blew Roy’s hair. A tongue the size of Roy’s forearm lapped his cheek gently. Roy smiled, turning his head away as he tried to push the dog’s head away from his mouth. Groß huffed, licked his lips, then rolled onto his side. When he exhaled, air bubbled between his jowls.
“He’s clean enough!” Evelyn walked around the bed, combing her fingers through the dog’s tawny hide, “You gonna leave him alone?” She pressed inward, her hands forming wrinkles across Groß skin. His mouth opened, and with it came an excited growl. Ears flopped back and forth as Groß mouthed the woman’s wrist.
“Who are you?” Roy asked quietly.
“I’m Evelyn.” The woman smiled. Somehow, it felt warmer than the flames across from him, “Welcome to Kriedeberg. I wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Kriedeberg?” Roy looked out the window. A gray sky dotted the heavens, dipping down to cover the mountaintops. Roy pawed at his arm, gazing upon a foreign assemblage of paintings and gold-trimmed curtains. Bandages had been freshly laid across his arms and back. A honeyed scent lifted from them when he moved.
Roy’s voice was not what Evelyn expected. He was quiet. Every word was methodical. As he looked at his surroundings, Evelyn watched his more subtle actions. The rising and falling of his chest, his fingers touching themselves and his palms, and even the skin on his collarbones were of note when he turned his head. These were normal human movements, but Evelyn couldn’t look past them. His eyes had an uncanny wisdom to them, like a century of summers had found its way into them. Evelyn exhaled. She turned towards the fireplace as Roy noticed her gaze. Her eyes were glassy, her hands firmly gripping the cup as though her life depended on it. She looked like she had spent the night sobbing. Roy stared at his free hand, wriggling his fingers, rotating his wrist.
Evelyn fumbled with a kettle, removing it from the fire with her bare hands. She poured the hot liquid into a cup, filling the room with a sweet, floral aroma. Roy’s eyes widened as Evelyn approached him, holding the teapot from the bottom. The glimmer of her wedding band flashed in Roy’s eyes.
“How are you-” Roy stuttered as the woman’s palm laid flatly against the boiling kettle, “Put that down!”
Roy’s face beamed crimson, his eyes glazed with concern for Evelyn’s hands. He reached out, pain gripping his ribs. He whimpered, arm falling back to his side. Evelyn gasped. She looked left and right for a pot cover, then hastily put the kettle on the nightstand.
“I’m sorry!” Evelyn held her hands up, “Magic! See? No burns.”
“Normal?” Roy’s brows furrowed. Evelyn’s hands were completely unharmed. When he reached for it, Evelyn guided his hand away.
“I don’t think you want to touch that.” Evelyn said, “It was boiling.”
“How did you do that?”
“It comes naturally to me.” Evelyn poured the drink into a cup, handing it to Roy, “For your lungs. It helps with the pain.”
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Roy reached for the tea carefully, his left arm a tapestry of bandages and inflamed skin. His hand trembled beneath the weight of the cup. Evelyn held the bottom, guiding it towards the boy’s center.
“Thank you.” Roy said meekly. His voice was calm, with a small growl that cleared once he took a few sips. The steam smelled of lemon. He coughed into his elbow, a small smattering of black landing on his bandages. The sight of it made him uneasy.
“No blood, that’s good.” Evelyn reassured, “You’ll be coughing like that for awhile; the soot gets in pretty deep.”
“Soot?” Roy looked at the black spit, “From the fire?”
“Fire?” Evelyn shook her head, frowning, “We didn’t see any fire.”
“I made it.” Roy said, “I think.”
“You don’t know?” Evelyn noted the small freckles creeping up the boy’s arms. They gathered at his elbows, spreading across his cheekbones and dotting themselves sporadically on his chest and back.
“How did you learn to do that?” Roy asked.
“What? With the kettle? I just match the heat with my own.” Evelyn’s brows furrowed. She looked at her reflection between bits of tea leaves. They clumped together in the middle of the cup, resembling a tree. They dispersed when she took a small sip, “Is… this new to you?”
Roy stared into the creases of his palms, eyes burning. He felt the heat return. The corner of his mouth upturned in dismay. The pain in Roy’s eyes told her all she needed to know.
“It’s okay. Your magic responds to stress.” Evelyn spoke softly. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“Stress? That’s all it is?”
“As far as I know.” Evelyn sipped.
“I don’t want to die.”
“Die?” Evelyn was about to take a second sip, but halted. Evelyn saw steam rise from the teacup in Roy’s hands, “What do you mean? You’re in no danger here, far from it.”
“I didn’t mean to do it. I wanted to save her.”
“What happened to you?” Evelyn seemed to whisper. Roy appeared more shaken with each passing moment. She could feel the heat coming off of him. It was like walking past an oven.
“They attacked.” Roy shuddered, “Todesspucker.”
Evelyn sat up. It was far too cold for Todesspucker to live in the mountains of Kriedeberg. They lived in the north, where Gairm met the Nizini border. Evelyn reached for the cup gingerly, the warm touch of her fingers overwhelmed by the startling heat of the boy’s hands. She knew if she recoiled it would scare him. Her palms covered his shivering fingers, holding them as though they were made of fragile seashells.
“I can’t stop it.” Roy tried to pull back as he did in Mossglen. It made him feel sick. Pain radiated from his wounds. A small crack formed on the clay cup’s surface, “Please, help me stop it.”
Evelyn stared at the steam, at Roy’s terrified eyes of emerald rust, his chest shivered. Liquid started to flow from the crack. Small bubbles simmered to the surface. Evelyn pulled the cup away, keeping one hand firmly clasped onto Roy’s.
“How did you get here?” Evelyn tried to look into Roy’s eyes but he avoided her gaze.
“They killed her.” Roy coughed, his lip twitched as he held his free hand out, “I tried to stop them. I failed.”
Evelyn’s stomach dropped. A question burned inside of her, licking at her tongue like newborn flames. She couldn’t ask. She didn’t know how.
Roy was frustrated by the sudden surge of emotions that coursed through him. He didn’t cry when Samuel dug a heel into his ribs. He didn’t cry when he watched the Todesspucker rip into his friend. Why was he crying now? He coughed again, clearing some of the gritty muck. He looked away from Evelyn, shrinking into himself. There was a despondent sadness in his eyes.
“You were protecting her.” Evelyn said. She could hear the dripping of tea as it seeped out of Roy’s mug. She slowly coaxed it from his fingers, placing it on the nightstand. Her eyes beamed with a care he had never seen. They were waves breaking against coastal cliffs; a sea that was unfathomably deep yet warm. She put her arms around the shivering boy, resting against his shoulders. Roy’s breathing stuttered as her hands stopped between his shoulder blades. He tried to force his sorrows into his fists. He blinked away tears. He sucked in air, causing a small whimper to creep from his lips.
He felt the fabric of her tunic. Her hair draping over her shoulders onto him. He could smell citrus and pine from before. As he lay there, something else crept up on him. An intangible warmth crept out of his chest like an outstretched hand. Roy leaned into Evleyn’s embrace, focusing on the heartbeat in her neck as his racing thoughts slowed to a halt.
It was unlike anything he had ever felt. His chest grew heavy in a way he couldn’t describe. It felt like an ache, but there was no pain. It was heavy. It was numb. It was like laying in the shade of a grand tree and feeling the warmth of the sun dance against his eyelids in deep crimson light.
Evelyn took in everything. Roy melted into her collar as she lifted a hand, barely crossing towards the back of his neck.
“What’s your name?” Evelyn asked.
“Roy.”
Roy waited for more questions, but there were none. Evelyn felt the tunic around her waist tighten. Roy’s hands held the fabric tightly, bunching it in his fingers like a child pulling at a tablecloth. She didn’t think he could hold her any tighter.