Callista opened her eyes slowly, expecting a blinding light to be shining upon her. What she saw was nothing she could have anticipated. Callista sat on a comfortably cushioned chair in front of a table. It was bare except for two cups, a kettle, various shortbread treats, and a container full of what seemed to be sugar.
“Am I dead?” Callista finally asked herself out loud while touching the table, herself, and the chair. “Depends on your definition, dear,” a soft sweet voice said behind Callista. She flinched in surprise for a moment as the footsteps brought the speaker into view.
It was an older woman, wearing a soft flowing dress. Her golden hair was tied into a decorative braid that draped over her left shoulder. Streaks of silver could be seen within the braid and the hair in general. Callista, though, was utterly enraptured by the woman’s eyes. Both of her irises transitioned color slowly, from deep violet to ocean blue, and then again to colors Callista could not even imagine.
“Tea, my dear?” the woman asked, startling Callista from her stupor. “Yes, that sounds wonderful, thank you,” Callista watched as the woman poured a generous amount of steaming water into each cup. Setting the kettle back down, the woman took a shortbread and nibbled on it, “You may as well spit it out, dear. Confusion is unbecoming of you.”
Callista took a deep breath. The heady aroma of steeping tea hit her. It was lavender, smooth, and sweet. “You said depending on my definition. What do you mean?” The woman smiled and chuckled softly. “I mean precisely that, right now, you are conscious and aware here but not there.” Callista raised an eyebrow, and took one shortbread, and nibbled. It practically melted in her mouth and was sweet with a subtle citrus tinge.
“What do you mean by here and there? Do you mean this place is the afterlife?” Callista looked around, taking in her surroundings finally. It appeared to be a rustic cabin, herbs, and plants dried on a string above her head. The crackling and smell of fire came from a different room. Containers stood silently on shelves that ran along each wall. Windows let in light from outside, warm and bright, more a spring day than winter’s cold morning. Finally, Callista looked back to the woman, “And who are you?”
The woman smiled warmly, “You can call me Maggie dear. You can also say that right now, you are not experiencing the afterlife. Close to it but not entirely there.” Callista looked down at the table. She wanted to be angry, upset, lash out at her undue fate. Those emotions didn’t come, neither did the sorrow of leaving her family and friends behind. Lost in her thoughts, Callista didn’t notice when Maggie pushed her cup forward.
“Drink up before it gets cold,” Maggie said while putting a tiny bit of sugar into her own cup. Callista touched the cup and felt its warmth sinking into her fingertips. “Am I going to die?” she finally said after a few moments of silence. Maggie put down her cup slowly before answering, “The better question is do you want to die?”
Callista looked up to her and blinked in confusion, “What do you mean if I want to die?” Maggie closed her eyes and shook her head. A small smile touched her face, “Exactly that, dear. Right now, you are the deciding factor on whether you want to die or continue living.” Callista opened and closed her mouth, confusion washing over her face, “But aren’t you a god? Aren’t you the ones that decide if we live or die? This makes no sense.”
“I am most certainly not a god, child. Nor would I ever want to be. Even if I was, why would I or others like me decide when you die? That is something that is determined by actions undertaken and consequences delivered to everyone and everything,” Callista looked at Maggie’s face and found the expression cold. The very air seemed to grow thicker and the shadows deeper. As Maggie finished speaking, the atmosphere returned to normal. “What are you?” Callista asked after composing herself.
Maggie smiled, “I am just a concerned mother looking after someone else’s child. I am sure your own mother would do the same.” Callista blinked, taken aback for a moment. Would her mother do the same thing? A moment later, she realized she would and knew she had not spoken to her family in quite some time. Why hadn’t she spoken with them, though? As she kept asking more and more questions, a tiny pinprick of pain grew at the base of her skull. Soon it was the only thing she could think about. Callista rubbed at the spot, hoping to alleviate the pain.
“Started questioning things, didn’t you?” Maggie said nonchalantly while sipping tea and picking up another shortbread. “What?” Callista blinked, looking back at Maggie, “How did you know?” Maggie shrugged, “I have been around long enough, child, to know when someone has had enchantments put onto them. Especially the kind to make you more efficient soldiers and killers.” Callista cocked her head only to have the pain explode in intensity. She coughed, dry heaving as the pain ran down her spine and into every limb. Callista wanted to scream, but the heaving only intensified, doubling her over as the fire of pain burned her.
“That is enough of that,” Maggie said calmly while reaching out to Callista. The moment she made contact with Callista’s skin, the pain disappeared. Callista took in one shuddering breath as tears flowed down her cheeks. She heard the scraping of a chair and felt Maggie’s touch shifting subtly. Soon a cold and calm touch brought her head up into Maggie’s comforting embrace. “You are safe here child, you won’t have to face that pain here. Just let me know when you are ready to speak more,” Maggie crooned softly to Callista, running cool fingers through her hair.
They stayed in that embrace for what felt like an eternity. Soon the ragged breathing and hammering heartbeat of Callista slowed, “Thank you.” Callista didn’t need to see Maggie’s face to know she was smiling, “It is quite alright, dear. You aren’t the first one I have had to comfort.” Callista slowly pulled herself away from Maggie and looked into her eyes. They held sorrow, regret, and deep pain. “I don’t want to die, Maggie,” Callista said while tears flowed freshly down her cheeks. Maggie wiped them away with a part of her dress, “No one does, dear.”
Callista closed her eyes as Maggie wiped across them with a gentleness that felt all too foreign. “I can hear your friends calling for you. Do you want to go back to them now?” Maggie asked while still gently stroking Callista’s head. “Yes, please,” Callista responded desperately while looking up into Maggie’s shimmering eyes. “I will let you go, dear, but if you ever need my help, just say the word Porma, and I will come as soon as I can.” Maggie’s response made Callista raise an eyebrow, “Porma?” Maggie gave a chuckle gleefully, “Yes, Porma. I expect you would not say that idly. Use it only when you have no other choice.” Callista nodded, “Thank you again, Maggie. How can I repay you?”
Maggie bent down to get face to face with Callista before she responded, “You can repay me by living, my dear.” Callista saw Maggie’s eyes change from circular pupils to vertical slits, the irises becoming a rainbow of color. Maggie’s left hand gently cupped Callista’s chin while her right stroked the arch of Callista’s cheekbone. She smiled not with happiness but sorrow, “I can see why he chose you now.” Callista furrowed her brow, “Who chose me?” Maggie’s bitter smile only widened while her gaze drifted over Callista’s shoulder, “You will find out soon enough, my dear. Now go back and live.” With that said, Callista felt Maggie push her backward into nothingness.
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“I hate you,” Maggie growled after sending poor Callista’s soul back to her body. She stared at her brother, who stood in the doorway to her small cabin. “I know you do, but I must thank…” He started before Maggie threw her chair to the floor in anger. “No! I didn’t do this for you! I did this because of what I know you are going to do to that poor girl!” She stomped over to him, growing in stature to tower over him. With clawed and scaled hands, she gripped his clothes and slammed him into the nearby wall jostling everything nearby.
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“This is the last time, brother! I will not and cannot abide by the little games you play when trying to fix your mistake!” Maggie stared into her brother’s eyes. She saw no remorse, no sympathy, no emotion came in response to her words. “This is the last one. I swear to you,” His calm response only further enraged Maggie, and she threw him bodily out the door. “You have said that before! And yet you keep letting your mistake carry on! Fix it, and don’t involve me again!” Maggie watched her brother’s face. It was passive and devoid of emotion.
Roaring in anger and frustration, Maggie slammed the door. Maggie took in ragged breaths and saw each exhale contained more and more flame. Maggie closed her eyes and took in measured deep breaths, calming herself. Soon she felt herself shrinking back to her preferred form. With one final breath, she turned to look back at the table. Walking over to it, she idly traced the back of the chair Callista had sat upon. “You poor girl, I do hope you never have to call upon me,” Maggie said while going to the window.
Looking out into her garden, she saw all of her flower beds. Each of them was in full bloom, dozens upon dozens of different varieties of flowers. “I also hope I don’t have to bury you like the others.”
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Lissa awoke groggily. Her throat was parched, her lips were split. As she tried opening her eyes, it felt like she was trying to move mountains. Dull aches and tightness gripped her tightly around her torso and head. Lissa tried to speak, but only a dry and hoarse croak escaped her lips. No answer came to her, though as the fog faded from her mind, she heard breathing to her right.
She moved one leaden arm away from her side and closer to the sound. Inch by inch, she moved. Rough textured sheets moved under her advance, soon she found the warmth of a hand perhaps. As her arm touched the hand, the breathing sharpened for a moment, but only a moment. It was back to its steady rhythm soon. Jostling and wiggling her heavy arm Lissa pushed the hand away. She felt it slide off and away from her.
“Huh, what?” Darvick’s groggy voice said a moment later. “Lissa? By the gods, you’re awake!” Lissa heard Darvick practically tumble out of his current position and stomp somewhere. She then heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening. It hit the wall with a bang. Lissa tried once more to open her eyes and, with great effort, forced the mountains to move. Through her still blurry vision, she saw the room around her. It was bare, the wall unadorned by any ornamentation, only small lanterns hung on them. As a stampede approached her room, Lissa looked into the doorway. For the briefest of moments, golden eyes stared back at her.
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“There is no rush. Take it slow,” Mera said comfortingly while watching Lissa slowly sit up. Lissa gritted her teeth and hissed through the pain of moving. When she had initially woken yesterday, she found out how injured she was. A punctured lung, liver, and stomach. Eight broken ribs, a broken wrist, an arm, a cracked skull, and fractures running up and down both legs.
Mera and Mela had worked miracles to keep her alive after Garza found her unconscious, broken, and bleeding upon a rock. According to the guards, they didn’t find Ts’og’s body initially, but it was found a few days later floating through Fortwin. “I am fine, Mera,” Lissa said in a hiss as she finally was upright. Mera gave her a look, “Really? Then what was the pained hissing for?” Lissa returned the gaze, “That wasn’t hissing. It was just me breathing out.”
Mera nodded, “Right. Well, this lets me check your bandages and wounds easier, at least. Saida, help her stay up while I check everything.” Lissa looked towards Saida, who stood at the end of the bed. She ambled closer and placed a steadying arm on Lissa’s upper back. “Thanks,” Lissa said while relaxing slightly.
Saida’s bloodshot eyes never left Lissa’s face, “Any time, just glad you are back with us.” Lissa cracked a small smile, “It is good to be back.” She felt Mera starting to unwrap the bandages and hissed again as the wounds met air. “Sorry,” Mera said sheepishly, “Gotta do it, though.” Lissa only closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the pain. While she waited for the process to be over, Lissa thought about her dream.
Lissa clearly pictured the strange woman in it, Maggie, and what she had said. Obviously, it was just a large figment of her imagination, a hallucination that someone who was dying would have. At least, that is what she kept telling herself. The more she thought about the woman and her words, the more they struck a chord within her. As she felt her thoughts wandering closer to their conversation, a pinprick of pain blossomed at the base of her skull. Each time it happened, the chord was struck harder, and the pain flared.
So far, she had been able to pass it off as pain from the wounds. But Lissa’s unease grew each time. She wanted to keep poking and prodding. Her thoughts caused the pain to grow into a roaring fire. A pained groan escaped her lips just as Mera exposed another wound, “Sorry! I am trying to be gentle here.” Lissa discarded her current train of thought, “It’s alright, just a bit sensitive at the moment.”
“Well, they all look good so far. By tomorrow we should be able to ride back to the capital,” Mera poked her head around Lissa’s side as she spoke and smiled. “I will go get Mela so that we can do a bit more to heal these faster without scarring, okay?” Lissa nodded to Mera, “Sounds good to me. Thanks again, Mera.” Mera’s smile grew, “You are very welcome, Lis. Be back in a bit, and keep her sitting up, Saida!” Mera slid off the bed and went to the door, opening it just wide enough to squeeze through before exiting.
“You okay?” Saida said quietly to Lissa. “I’m fine. Why do you keep asking?” Lissa looked to Saida. From what she had heard, Saida hadn’t gotten any sleep since the encounter with Ts’og. “Because it is my fault you are like this,” Saida replied. Her hand that rested on Lissa squeezed ever so slightly. “You couldn’t have known that would happen. And you had no real way to prevent it, so stop beating yourself up over it,” Lissa looked into Saida’s eyes. She saw her worry, self-loathing, and anguish.
“I felt something was off with the ring when I grabbed it from Micah. I should have known,” Saida’s hand squeezed tighter as she spoke. “Saida,” Lissa moved a hand to touch Saida’s clutching hand, “I am not dead, and you killed Ts’og before it could injure or kill anyone else. You are fine. You have no reason to beat yourself up over this.” Saida bit her lip and opened and closed her mouth a few times before speaking. “I can’t forgive myself that easy for hurting someone that I….” She took in one steadying breath, “That I care about.”
Lissa smiled at her, “I know, just take it slow then, okay?” Saida returned the smile, “You are too forgiving for your own good, you know?” Lissa chuckled, sending a wave of pain crashing into her chest, “Maybe I am, and maybe I shouldn’t laugh now.” Saida laughed, “Probably, at least not until they clear you to laugh.” The door to the room creaked open, “Knock knock, guess who's back.”
Mera and Mela slowly crept in eager grins on their faces. “The miracle workers, how kind of you to join us,” Saida smiled at them, and they bowed. “We can’t take all the credit. The academy taught us well.” Lissa rolled her eyes and smiled, “They taught you how to be humble, at least.” Mera and Mela looked at each other, “Us humble? Wherever did you get that idea?” Lissa shook her head and laughed, “Just get your examination and healing done. I am bound to catch a cold without my bandages.” Mera walked over and hopped onto the bed, “Really? I thought the steamy atmosphere in here would keep you warm enough.”
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Saida entered her room slowly and quietly shut the door behind her. She stripped and stumbled over to the bed but stopped short as the hairs on her neck stood on end. “As promised, she is fine and healing well,” Faceless said while their face appeared, hovering an arm’s length away. “Thank you, but I want to sleep now Faceless,” Saida walked through Faceless towards the bed. “I will let you sleep, Saida, though I do expect you to hold up your part in this arrangement.” Saida waved towards Faceless, “I will. I just need sleep now. Thank you again for saving her.” Saida collapsed onto the bed and slowly wormed under the covers.
Faceless watched as she drifted slowly into sleep. Soon enough, a smile appeared on Faceless. They drifted closer to Saida and hovered over her head. An eerie red glow came from their eyes and shined onto Saida. Had Saida been awake, she would have heard Faceless humming a melody, along with seeing their face cracking and falling into an abyss.