Sera floated through a sea of darkness. It was peaceful and safe there. This time there was no light and she did not emerge. Instead she sunk deeper and deeper. So deep, in fact, that she found a place where there was nothing. Not even thought invaded that place.
Then came warmth flooding over her body. A feeling of ease in her tired and broken body. A weight lifting off of her as she floated through the void.
Twinkles of light began to press through her eyelids. Her eyes lazily came open to see a candle with a purple flame sitting upon a side table near her. With a blink the purple flame had extinguished itself. WIth another blink the smoke rising off of the wick was replaced with the tails of a strong orange flame. For a moment there was nothing but that candle and its flame. Then the world seemed to be illuminated by the candlelight. As Sera noticed the light touching the vague outlines of shapes in the darkness they would take on definition and color.
Once the room filled with light Sera pushed herself up onto her elbows. The feeling of soft fabric snaked up her arms and drew her attention.
She wore a chemise of a pale lilac color but her now-stained undergarments still laid underneath. Sera became aware of the crackling of fire inside a stove to her right. A wall stretched behind it covered in hooks and red velvet. Several swords, guns, whips, and daggers sat upon the hooks in what appeared to be an ordering by size. Her eyes continued to scan the room as they met a heavy wooden desk but she froze once she saw someone sitting behind it.
The woman was slender. A billowing blue shirt hung loosely off of her as she rested her chin in her hands. The woman’s verdant green gaze rested solely on the table upon which there was a variety of small trinkets, toys, and envelopes. A darkened leather patch with red and white stones embedded into it covered her left eye. It bobbed from one side to the other like a metronome. A voice that was sweet and refined began to emit from the figure.
“You have been unconscious since yesterday, my dear. Using a clot for the first few times is quite taxing on the body,”.
The voice was indifferent, simply informing Sera of the facts. As the woman spoke one of the hands fell from her chin. Her pointing finger extended to what looked like a small model of a crane. Placing the finger of the top of the piece she began to teeter the edge in a circular pattern. Her gaze was intense as it met with Sera’s for a few seconds before it once again began to trace the path of the teetering figurine.
At the woman’s words Sera’s fogged mind began to clear.
I was traveling with Buck, she thought, I remember the old church. Finding my mother. Then I turned and….
Her thoughts and gaze froze as the image of the creature she had encountered filled her mind. Even as she attempted to cast the thought out, the red and yellow rings of the horror’s eyes stayed with her. She could feel its stare even now.
Sera suddenly felt very sick. Her stomach began to heave and her hand quickly covered her mouth. Sera’s pleading eyes looked over at the woman at her desk.
With an eye roll the woman leaned back onto her extravagant chair.
“There is a bucket next to the bed, but if you get even a drop of vomit on my…”
The sentence was cut off by the sounds of clanging metal as the bucket was grabbed. This was immediately followed by the sound of a terrible gagging as a small amount of liquid hit the metal bottom.
The liquid that came from Sera was thin and mostly bile. It was all that her meager diet could allow her stomach for now. Once she caught her breath again her mind began to race. Gently placing the bucket onto the ground she pointedly looked up at the woman.
“How did I get here and where did…..those things go?” Sera asked nervously.
“They were demons,” The woman’s statement was so nonchalant. It sent a chill down Sera’s spine.
What else could they possibly be? Sera scolded herself, They certainly were not anything of this world.
“I say ‘were’ because by the time that Hound and I found you they were nothing but bleached skeletons,” the woman continued, “We found your horse on the road and followed where he led until we found that field of bones. More interestingly, we found you unconscious on the steps. We brought you to the carriage and you have been resting since.”
The last few words ascended in tone as the woman grinned. With a swift motion she snatched the crane figure and placed it into a wooden, felt-lined box upon the table.
“My horse?!” Sera exclaimed with concern staining her words, “You mean you found Buck? Is he safe?”
The woman chuckled.
“I had wondered what the horse’s name was. Hound and I had been arguing about what his name should be should you not awake,” the woman said bemusedly. The playful nature of the last sentence clashed with the possibility of Sera’s demise in her mind.
“Hound?” The name had finally registered in Sera’s mind, “A dog lives here in this tiny carriage?”
This drew another chuckle from the woman.
“You would be surprised how often that gets asked. No, to answer your question. Hound is my partner and traveling companion. Though you are right about his dislike of the carriage interior,” the woman said with warmth before her gaze finally met Sera’s.
“You can call me Anjelica! You will be safe with us so you can rest easy. You are under the custody and care of the Gavels and, by extension, the Church now. Who might you be my dear?” As she spoke her words were filled with honey.
Gavels? Sera thought with some panic.
Sera searched her mind for what she knew of Gavels. They were spoken of in grand terms during the few sermons Annika had forced her to attend. The Church would extoll them as law keepers and vigilant protectors. When Sera went to the markets, however, there were whispers in hushed tones of the air of strangeness that surrounded them. Gavels were like storms that rolled into towns bringing chaos with them. To the villagers the costs of these meetings were seldom worth the benefits.
“My name is Sera. What exactly do you want with me?” Sera asked tentatively.
“With you?” Anjelica seemed a bit taken aback. “I cannot say that I want to do anything in particular with you.”
The green eye scanned Sera once more. Seeing Sera’s confused expression, Anjelica hesitated a moment. Choosing her words carefully, she continued.
“You certainly have a great power within you, Sera. The truth of things is that many people walk around with great power in our country. In the end the choice of what role you play is entirely your own,” Anjelica’s words trailed off as her eye flicked back to her desk.
“What do you mean?” Sera asked inquisitively, “Are you playing some kind of game?”
“Well you could come and see for yourself,” Anjelica replied curtly. She nodded towards a simple wooden chair across the desk from her.
Sera began to stand but it took some time as her legs were intensely sore. The confrontation with the demon had left her whole body feeling torn and bruised. Her throat hurt immensely. As she trailed her finger across it she could feel the indents where the creature’s finger had dug in. A mirror next to the bunk revealed terrible marks of a deep purple with blue and yellow splotching around the edges. As she rose she could see that Anjelica was fiddling around in the felted box.
From the box’s depths emerged three new figurines. One was of a model horse, the kind that Sera always saw passing by Annika’s farm. The second was a wooden carving of a gavel that had been stained in a cerulean blue. The last was a smooth river stone whose black color had been polished to a mirror-like sheen.
Anjelica began with obvious excitement, “There is no game more interesting than the feelings and movements of people. Everything about you has been interesting and so I must make the decision of how to represent you!”
Anjelica then began to rock the horse back and forth with a finger. The wheels squeaked from the repetitive motion.
“The clothes that you were wearing and the meager supplies you had with you means that you are more than likely poor. Based on the build and breed of your horse I would say you worked at a farm. The fact that you fled so readily means that you were unhappy with your caretaker. I assume that you came to this blighted land seeking the truth of your mother and found only monsters. Am I doing alright so far?” Anjelica trailed off with an amused certainty.
A drop of sweat began to drip down Sera’s forehead in answer to Anjelica’s question.
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“Why did you read my letter?” Sera’s words came out with venomous anger.
“Well, leaving it in the saddlebags could lead to it being ruined. Besides the fact that the letter adds a whole new dimension to your plight. Why was your mother important enough to write such a letter and to whom? Why were you important enough that you needed to be protected?” Anjelica rattled these questions off in such quick succession that it left Sera reeling.
Sera looked away from the horse and up at Anjelica. Her green eye traced up and down along Sera’s face, studying her reaction. Upon realizing this Sera took a deep breath and attempted to compose herself. As their gazes locked Anjelica squinted at her.
“I would wager those answers are as much of a mystery to you as they are to me. If I had to make a guess, I would say that you were the bastard child of some nobleman. Dumping you onto a farm would save you from both starvation and ridicule. A life on the farm is a better life than most are afforded. Yet still, there is the problem of your conflagratory powers. Your clot was more than likely a recent random occurrence. Using your power seemed to be quite taxing on you so this is fairly fresh. Either the clot formed recently or the conditions for it have just never been met,” Anjelica spoke with ascending frustration. One of her hands went to her temple as Anjelica pressed and massaged it.
“You think that I have some kind of disease that is making my blood clot?” A tinge of panic had entered into Sera’s voice.
“Clots are the source of a Gavel’s power,” Anjelica began but then paused. She then began to undo the buttons of her shirt until her sleeve could be slipped over her shoulder. The pale skin over her collar bone was interrupted by a dark purple mass which protruded out of the skin. At its closest point, where the skin was stretched most thin, a milky blue color could be seen. Black and red veins all ran into and across the growth, eventually sinking too deep into Anjelica’s skin to be seen or connecting with her blue veins which stood prominent under her skin.
Sera’s expression turned from surprise to wonder to disgust in quick flashes as she processed the image. She felt noxious again.
“They are beings with life unto themselves.Their effects vary but they fall into some classifications. Some Gavels report that they can sometimes catch fleeting thoughts that are not their own, feelings that seem to come upon them suddenly, flashes of memories..,” Anjelica trailed off for a moment seemingly lost in thought. When her blank face snapped back to focus her smile returned. With steady hands she began to button up her shirt.
“So you think that I have one of those clots on me somewhere?” Sera said as she began running her hands over her arms.
“Not in the usual placements. Those being the neck, the clavicle, the inner thigh, and the outer arm. Thankfully we were able to check all of them without compromising your modesty,” Anjelica said while beginning to fiddle with the horse once more.
They took the time to mind my decency? She thought. Annika never even had the decency to give me a bed.
“Thank you,” Sera said, the words almost a whisper.
“A Gavel is sworn to the people and only the people, Sera. You would do well to remember that. So few of our order do,” Anjelica stated wistfully. With an sigh she began again:
“You are most definitely not a common person. You are quite unique. You are resourceful and intelligent. You possess a clot that is unknown to our records with a strange presentation and placement. Did strange things start happening around you?”
With a swift motion Anjelica swiped up the horse. The horse soon found itself placed into the felted box along with its compatriots.
Sera’s eyes went wide and she looked downwards towards her toes.
“A man grabbed me in a tavern the other day,” Sera started, “I should have been more careful but I got into an argument. Eventually he grabbed me and…well I think I burned his hands.”
As the words trailed off Sera’s eyes began to glance up at Anjelica’s in an attempt to gauge her reactions. Instead of anger or fear Anjelica looked excited.
“It seems that your clot might trigger as a response to fear. Unfortunately the world holds many horrors for women of your age. Your flames could trigger in any number of circumstances which means that we must be quite careful until you get control of yourself. It could be quite dangerous for both yourself and others if your ability were to be randomly triggered”.
“Dangerous?” Sera retorted, “ I thought that this…clot…Was triggered by my being in danger. Would that not mean that it protects me?”
“Oh, certainly,” Anjelica said with a chiding tone, “It functions to protect you. However, without training it could set off at any time you become afraid. You sent a tower of flame up into the sky so tall that we could see it down the road. Your flames burnt almost everything. The bones of all those Sanguinauts were bleached white by the time that we found them. Imagine if that happened in a city street or even an inn? Not to mention that powers of your caliber can be even more dangerous as the fuel is commensurate with the benefit. Until we know what your clot considers tribute we cannot know what toll the clot is taking from you.”
“Then,” Sera said with her eyes growing wide as the words sank in, “Then this clot is…eating me?”
Sera’s fear conflicted with the amused chuckle that issued from Anjelica at the thought.
“Clots can provide great power but they need to draw that power from somewhere. Once they have taken root the fate of the person and their clot are intertwined. They draw from you what they need. For example, mine is called the Blademaster. It is a mastery clot and gives me a great degree of control over my body. Almost anything can be a weapon in my hands. Great control now for loss of control later.”
At this Anjelica raised her left hand and moved it over the desk so that Sera could see more closely. The pinky finger of Anjelica’s left hand twitched and contracted at random intervals. Even when it went where Anjelica bade, it still shook with a tremor.
“The longest anyone has survived with the Blademaster was thirty-two years. I intend to live well past forty-four,” Anjelica’s words had a deeply venomous quality to them. Her face looked sallow and resigned for a moment before turning to anger after seeing a particularly strong twitch. Shutting her eyes, Anjelica took a deep breath and the slight grin returned. With a smooth motion, Anjelica took the black stone into her left hand and the gavel into her right. After making pointed eye contact with Sera she extended her left hand out to present the stone.
“When you arrive at the inevitable point where your clot can no longer take what it desires from you… it will take everything else. Everything that you are. Your mind and body become twisted abominations. I believe that you have become familiar with one of the forms they can take,'' Anjelica said with a tinge of hope.
The image of the red and yellow rings thrust itself to the forefront of Sera’s mind. The twisted, gnashing teeth of the beast she had slain. The terrible contortions of form that created the otherworldly appearance.
“All of those creatures…they were people just like us?” Sera muttered to herself with disbelief.
“They WERE people. ‘Were’ being the word of importance here. They were nothing but lost souls by the time you stumbled upon them. Tattered remnants of a humanity they had lost. If we do not pass our clots down then we are destined for the same fate.” Anjelica spoke in a morose, serious tone.
“If it means that I’m going to turn into one of those things then I will pass whatever power I have willingly. Is there some way for you to extract it or some place I could go…” Sera spoke frantically but her words were cut off as Anjelica interjected.
“Surgically,” Anjelica said as her eye locked onto Sera’s with a dead calm, “They can be removed surgically. The veins mingle and bind to your own and so it is an extensive surgery. Even when you can find a doctor willing to perform it the cost would be enough to bury a normal man in debt. Then you have to actually survive the removal as the surgeon extricates the conjoined veins of the clot from yours. Most die of blood loss. It is a dangerous path if you even had the resources to venture along it. With your clot being somewhere inside of you the likelihood of you being alive and well at the end of it is almost nil.”
Sera felt her eyes begin to blankly stare into the wall in front of her. What color in her face had remained swiftly fled her as the grim prognosis swept over her.
“Then we are doomed. Doomed to become monsters,” Sera said with a grim monotone.
“Not doomed Sera, we are blessed,” Anjelica spoke with a softness, “There is hope, Sera. Training could help you to control your power. Once you have control you could slow down the rate of your use until it is close to nil if that is what you desire. It is not our doom to be tools of evil. We can use our gifts to uphold justice, settle disputes, and keep safe people much like yourself. That is what being a Gavel means: ‘To use our powers for the betterment of the prospects of this country’s people’.”
Anjelica tossed the black stone in the freshly placed pile where they had marked their encounter with Sera just outside of Tumville. Anjelica then took up the blue wooden gavel and extended it towards Sera with an open palm.
Sera’s hand moved to hover over the figurine but stopped before touching it. Her gaze went to the side then down to the ground as her brows crinkled.
“What would happen if I were to refuse?” Sera asked with a waver.
Anjelica’s face never soured. Her smile remained as she placed the gavel onto the table softly.
“Your power could be quite dangerous. I could not risk the lives of the common folk. Due to your interesting presentation and our standing orders I believe we would be within our rights to detain you and deliver you to the capital forthrightly for assessment. There you and your clot would be examined and the Church would decide whether you were an adequate wielder. If not, they would remove your clot and match it with a more worthy host from among the ranks of the Gavels without clots. If it should be deemed of use…which I believe we both know that it would be.” The way Anjelica spoke was straightforward and rehearsed. All of it was in a matter of fact tone as if it was ripped straight from the pages of a report.
“Why would any of that change if I were to join you?” Sera said with her vision never diverting from the gavel on the table.
“I will do everything in my power to give you a fighting chance. You can travel with us and we can teach you what we know about the trade along the way. We can provide you safe passage to the capital and a commendation on your application to the academy so that you could join the ranks properly. I only have one condition. Until we understand your clot you are not to use it under any circumstance. Only use it if your life is actively in danger. Understood?” The question was more a command as Anjelica spoke it.
Sera picked up the gavel piece and began examining it. Rolling the piece around in her hand let her see that the blues along each ring of wood had slightly different tones and colors.
“I understand,” Sera said. As the words rang out there was a finality to them.
What serious demeanor Anjelica had mustered melted away at the words. With a joyful laugh she stood up from her chair.
“It is going to be so wonderful to have someone else traveling with us. You’ll find your clothes folded on the chest behind you. After you get dressed I can make introductions” Anjelica declared with glee.
“To your friend Hound, right?” Sera asked with trepidation.
Anjelica nodded.
“You might like each other! He is almost as headstrong as you are!” Anjelica’s speech trailed off as she walked to the door of the carriage. Flinging it open, Sera could see the countryside passing at a fast pace through the opening.
“Do hurry along!” Anjelica yelled before swinging out of the doorway to the left and out of sight. The door swung shut with a slam as the roaring wind died down inside the cabin.
Sera, shaking her head in disbelief at her ill fortune, began to get dressed. Though they were not clean, the riding dress and boots she wore were comfortable and familiar. Having them had at least made her feel like less of a prisoner.