Entering the cottage, I was greeted with the smoky scent of a smouldering fire in the fireplace. The warmth enveloped me like a comforting hug. The pins-and-needles sensation of my body thawing spread through me as I made my way further inside.
As was the case whenever I was treating someone, an air of calm came over me as I placed the fox down in front of the fireplace to warm. My body obediently obeyed the checklist I was forming in my head: clean towels, cloths, pillows, and blankets from the spare bedroom, two small basins with warm water, and my homemade antiseptic to cleanse the wounds. I also gathered some scraps from dinner and water, should the creature awaken and decide it was hungry.
Once I had everything collected, I put on my apron and knelt down to inspect the animal in more detail. “All right, little love. Let’s see what’s going on with you,” I whispered to the frail creature.
Nocturna and Astra sat on either side of me, watching intently as I dipped one of the cloths into a basin of warm water and started to wash away the matted blood on the fox’s face and head. As I washed away more of the blood and dirt, the size of the head wound became more apparent. The fox had been hit brutally hard. It was difficult to make out what specifically could have caused this injury, but whatever it was, it was heavy and blunt. I continued my way down, cleaning congealed blood and dirt from various other small wounds scattered over the creature’s limp, cold body and applying liberal amounts of antiseptic to clean them. By the time I got down to its paws, both basins were filled with murky brown water.
Now to tackle the dilemma of these chains.The links had sharp, geometric edges to them, each resembling a hexagon, unlike normal chain links, which were more oval-shaped and rounded. They alsoseemed to be all linked together with no visible weakness or lock. They were made of an oddly dark metal, not one I was familiar with.
I looked down at the animal’s paws and cringed at the wounds that this chain had inflicted on them. The chain was wrapped so tightly around the animal’s limbs that it was causing deep, painful lacerations. I grabbed the chain to see if there was any give or way to gently remove the paws, but as soon as I touched the metal, I felt a deep vibration in my bones and a burning on my hands. “Ow! What the fuck?” I yanked back my hands to inspect them, expecting to see burn marks on my bare skin. Not a scratch.
While inspecting my hands, I experienced a sluggish, draining feeling—as if my magic was being smothered. The sensation lasted only a few seconds, but it was unnerving enough to make me wary of touching the strange chains unprotected.
I grabbed a few of the soiled cloths and used them as a barrier between the chains and my hands while I attempted to remove them from the animal again. I tightened the chains around the fox’s limbs, profusely apologizing for the unnecessary pain I was causing. I thought that if I could tighten them up at the base a bit more, then I could gain a little give in the outer loops to unwrap them. Doing my best not to cause any further injury to the animal, I was able to getjustenough give to pull one of its limbs out of the bindings. With one limb removed, the chains were now loosened enough that I could safely remove the remaining limbs from their painful restraints.
I threw the soiled cloths down onto the chains and furiously rubbed my hands together. The cloths had held off the burning sensation, but they were useless against the unwelcome vibrating, magic-smothering feeling. What in the Eternal Night kind of chains were these? The only logical explanation was that they were infused with magic I had never encountered. Even that logic had flaws to it. Whoever had used these, where would they have gotten them? And why use them on a small forest animal?
Too tired to wonder about this any further, I wrapped the chains in a towel and put them aside to deal with later.
I resumed cleaning the wounds left by the chains and applied antiseptic to the animal’s paws. Placing one hand gently on the fox’s head and another on its body, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. A warmth began filling my chest as I imagined my magic building up and gaining strength. I thought of the small, injured creature in front of me and its many wounds. I willed that warmth to flow through my arms and into the fox. Letting it banish any pain, darkness, or illness that plagued it. I envisioned the wounds closing and healing. The animal waking up and being happy and healthy. Slowly I opened my eyes and leaned over the fox. “You are loved. You are whole. You are healed.” I followed this with a prayer to Vikteriya for its quick recovery.
After planting a small kiss on its head, I got up and grabbed some blankets and pillows to make a makeshift bed for the fox to rest in. I placed the bowl of food and the water beside it.
It hurt my heart to see such needless pain. Whoever had hurt this animal was a cruel monster, and I hoped that they received their comeuppance.
I went into the bathroom to take care of my second priority of the night. Even though I could barely keep my eyes open, I desperately needed to wash the stink, dirt, and weirdness of the night away. Staring into my bathroom mirror, I barely recognized the face looking back at me. Dark circles had blossomed underneath my lavender-grey eyes. My normally glowing fair complexion looked dull, tired, and scraped up. The familiar smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks was partially hidden behind dirt smudged on my face. I hastily tied up the frazzled, knotted inky-black mess I called hair on top of my head with a small ribbon.
Carrying smaller pots of hot water from the large, continuously boiling pot in the kitchen had always been an annoyance, but witha now swollen ankle, it was downright torture. Ages ago the cottage had been fitted with a system that caught rainwater and piped it indoors. A very useful system with only one major fault: the water was always cold. I loved that I had the ability to heal people with my magic—I just wished that magic could have also included heating up water on demand.
After adding my favourite bathing oil, a mixture of lavender, honey, and vanilla, I slipped into the almost scalding water. I wrapped both hands around my twisted ankle and completed the healing I had started in the Nightwood. It would most likely stay swollen for a few more hours, and then it would be good as new.
I lay soaking in the water, letting the grime of the day slowly wash off me, while surrounded by soft candlelight. My mind drifted back to the Nightwood and the unexpected magic in that clearing. I wondered if it would have felt the same for everyone, or if I had felt it because I had abilities. I looked over and caught sight of the small wooden chair in the corner, the one my grandmother had sat on when she had confessed my abilities to me.
It was exactly one month before my thirteenth birthday—I had been born on the winter solstice. I had woken up nauseous with awful cramps and bloody undergarments. It felt like sparks were spreading throughout my chest and into the rest of my body. I was so scared; I thought I was dying. My grandmother and I had talked about the changes I would be going through when I turned of age, but all of that flew right out of my head as panic set in. My grandmother, stifling a laugh, assured me I was not dying, but it was time we had another talk. She drew a bath for me and told me a bit about our family’s history.
For as long as anyone could remember, the women in our family had all been blessed by the Mothers. Magic had been passed down the maternal line for thousands of years. As far as a reason why, it was a gift from the Mother of the goddesses, the Creator herself,Nyxenia. Not all women in our family had the same magical abilities, but for a large majority, it manifested in the form of healing.
By the time my grandmother had finished explaining what was happening to me, I was speechless and confused. I found out that not only did my grandmother have magical abilities, but so did my mother and I. My mother had passed away when I was young. I had no memory of her, and what little I did know came at great emotional expense to my grandmother. So I had refrained from asking too many questions about her. Finding out that I shared this unique quality with my mother was like recovering a lost piece of myself. I spent months afterward hurt and angry at my grandmother for hiding this from me. With time, I was able to move past it and found myself following in her footsteps as a healer.
A smile spread across my face as I reminisced about the woman who had raised me and taught me everything I knew. I hoped that wherever she was, she was proud of the woman I had become.
Upon exiting the bathroom, I found Nocturna and Astra in the living room, curled up on either side of the injured fox. I smiled proudly at my girls as I checked on them all one last time before retiring to my bed. Regardless of what had happened to the fox prior to this, from now on it was going to be fiercely protected by those two. The thought warmed my heart as I dragged my sore and tired body to bed. I had barely made it under the covers before fatigue overwhelmed me.
Chapter 2
Iwoke up late the next morning to warm snuggles from Astra and an awful fall rainstorm thrashing outside my window. My muscles were aching badly from the previous night’s activities in the Nightwood. I stretched my arms overhead, leaning from side to side, trying to release some of the stiff tension in my back. I was slightly embarrassed that at twenty-eight years of age, my body felt this poorly after running through the woods. Thankfully, I only had Nocturna, Astra, and an injured fox to play witness to my soft physical shape.
After a few more minutes of lamenting my aches, I got up and went into the living room to check on the little fox. Nocturna was still curled up with the small creature and had most likely been so the whole night. I gently looked over the fox to make sure its state hadn’t gotten any worse overnight, and to my surprise, the majority of its wounds looked almost fully healed. There was still some flesh exposed on its paws, but not nearly as much as there had been last night. Its head wound looked like it could be fully healed by the end of the day.This is amazing! Thank the Mothers Above.With my healing abilities, I had expected these results after a few days, not after a few hours. I checked over the food and water dishes, and it didn’t appear it had woken up and had any sustenance. That made me a little apprehensive, but we still had time before this became a situation I needed to worry about.
As I had the previous night, I grabbed a couple of water basins, cloths, and antiseptic to treat the animal’s wounds.Even when using magical abilities, infection posed a risk. This little one wasn’t quite out of the woods yet, so I needed to stay vigilant. I’d seen far too many times how things could turn poorly very quickly. That was mostly with people, but the same principles applied to animals as well. One moment they were on the mend and looking great. The next, they are down and out with no explanation as to why. The creature had already been through enough; I wasn’t going to add to its pain and suffering if I could help it.
Next on the to-do list for the day was tidying up my humble little home. The cottage was small and cozy and decorated exactly as my grandmother had left it. All these years later, I hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to change anything. If I left it all the same, it would feel like she was still here. Even though it had been twelve years since her passing, I could not say goodbye to this part of her yet.
The living room was surrounded by bookcases, filled with a staggering assortment of literature that my grandmother had procured over the years. The volumes were organized according to their subject matter: recipe books, herbology, healing texts, mythical tales, and my personal favourite, romance novels, which she had imported from the lustrous Southern Territory.
A plethora of crystals adorned the top of the mantelpiece. My grandmother believed that they all held power required for all types of manifestations—my favourite was a sapphire shaped like a star. Mixed throughout the crystals were various scented candles she had taught me how to make with essential oils and beeswax.
Strewn about the sofa were a few of my most cherished possessions: the blankets she had made for me by hand. I had accumulated quite a collection over the years. I picked up the blankets and carefully folded them, placing them over the back of the sofa. The remainder of the blankets my grandmother had made were carefully folded and stored in a cedar chest behind the sofa.
