How longcanI last?
The longer I was alive, the more exhausted I became. Lungs ached to breathe normally, and my body continuously strained against the efforts as I grew weaker with each passing day on this Earth. I lay against the bed, heavy eyelids betraying me as I curled up among the downy comforter.
I wanted to remember a time when the cough wasn’t there. Where the shame of scrubbing or hiding the blood from others did not fill my ever-wakingthoughts. Most of all, I wanted to remember a time when I wasn’t so scared of dying.
I drifted off, unable to cling on to wakefulness, aware I had not put the armoire against the door. Truthfully, it wouldn’t stop Silas—not even a little—from barging in. I was defenseless in this castle, and he easily could take my life if he so wished.
My thoughts drifted to the vial and the mysterious contents its glass walls harbored. Why was he persistent in trying to get me to drink that? If it is that simple to be cured, what would be the catch? As sleep came, I thought of the boy from the vision standing among the summer sweet grass as the sun’s warm, bright rays sweeps across his skin and mine.
In another life, don’t you wish we were different?
Finding Ayla’s home did not take me as long as I had initially thought. Taking the path on the outskirts of the town, I came across the little cottage. The babbling brook’s crystal-clear water funneled into a large wheel appeared to power the grinding machines inside. The yard of the house was covered with tulips of reds and yellows in full bloom despite the deepening chill of autumn.
I clutched my wrap and knocked.
The door swung open, Ayla barreling out. “You came!” she screeched, hugging me tight enough my lungs nearly ended up on the back of her dress. “Comein, come in. Do you want some tea? I have a kettle on.” She ushered me inside the cozy, quaint space.
The inside was considerably small, with a long table taking up the majority of the room filled with herbs and spices. Its aroma permeated as if I were standing in the exotic stall at the market on a crisp morning. A fire burned in a brick laid over, and flames licked at the iron kettle suspended above. Various herbs hung over a caged window, the sun baking them as a rainbow stream through spinning stained glass cylinders. The windmill I saw outside spun into a makeshift hydraulic press, cogs turning as the metal grinded behind a closed door.
The floor creaked as I stepped inside. I was struck with a memory of Miriam and me playing hide-and-seek when we were children. I had gotten trapped in the attic for sometime as Miriam sought me out, only to give up halfway. Miriam never told me the game was over and had forgotten about me for several hours.
“I’m sorry for the mess,” Ayla said, brushing aside herbs on her table. “I was not really prepared to have company over so soon, and I was in the middle of drying some herbs.” Ayla swept dried herbs into an infuser.
Honey and lavender steam floated up from two mugs, the scent permeating the spiced air as she poured hot water.
I took a cup, and the steam blasted my face with warmth. “This smells wonderful.” I sipped, the sweetness and softness of the lavender easing my tight body as I let out a breath of relief.
I wandered to Ayla’s dainty hands wrapped around her mug to a silver band adorned with blue jewels. The ring was on her right ring finger, which made me think she was married and shared her little cottage with someone.
I tried not to think of the other option that may be the truth to the matter.
“Your ring is gorgeous,” I said.
Ayla stretched out her hand, the ring glittering. “Thank you. I know what you are thinking. I am married and such.” She took a small sip from her mug, a perfect precursory pause. “It was a family heirloom once upon a time ago. I was engaged, but it didn’t end well, so I wear it to remind me what I have lost and what I must gain.”
I shifted the mug, thinking about the sentiment. I wiggled my finger where my own ring lay. I wore it out of fear, unsure of what Silas would do if he found I refused to wear it. “You must have had a pretty rough life, then?”
“It’s not all bad. Just today, I was in the middle of filling an order for a family. The mother was blessed with a child in autumn’s cycle who has become sickly in recent months. The family is worried that the child won’t survive to see its first-year mark. I suspect cholera, as the majority of this town has had it in some form or another. But even then, death haunts this town as much as the fog sticks.” As she sipped her tea indignantly, her eyebrows scrunched in focus as she stared into the cup. “I fear my skill may not beenough, especially if the monster on the hill still terrorized us.”
I perked my ears. “Actually, that is part of my reason why I came here today. What do you know of the monster? Is there a way to kill it?”
Ayla clicked her band against the ceramic mug, the soft ting mixed in with the soft grinding of several of the machines in her space. She brushed a strand away from her face. “There is a legend, one I am inclined to believe. There is an ancient ash tree that is said to have mystical properties to ward off the supernatural and especially of the night-walking kind.”
I picked at the bed of my nail, stabbing my fingernails into the bed and letting the blood and pain be a reminder of the nightmare I was to endure. “Where does one find the ash tree?”
Ayla stood, collecting the mugs and depositing them into the sink. “The tree no longer exists. It burned down about the same time the castle came to be.”
“Which means that this Death Incarnate will continue to prey on people.” I sighed, hanging my head in my hands.
The crushing weight of the world kept building on my shoulders. I kept waiting for it to falter and collapse in the same way that my hope had.
The soft gargled water coming from the sink filled the space. Fire crackled from the fireplace as Ayla hummed a tune eerily and hauntingly beautiful.
I sat there and listened, the melody familiar to one that reminded me of home.
“What am I going to do? There’s no hope of killing this man,” I whispered into the hopeless void.
I wanted freedom from both death that plagued my lungs and the death I was living with who, in one split second, could drain my life from me. I wanted to see the world in its beauty and push myself to the limit without cause or worry about funds.
