Mara lay in the exact same position she had fallen asleep the night before.

Her breathing slow and peaceful, hugging the pillow under her head and the corner of the comforter wrapped around her waist. Somehow the stillness and quiet of it all were reasons enough to jolt her out of sleep.

Opening her eyes with alarm, she abruptly sat on the bed forcing her to blink several times until the room stopped spinning and came into focus. Bright light streaked in through the thin white curtain of the window beside her as she looked around the small room. It took her a few seconds to absorb where she was, to grasp that she had actually slept comfortably and soundly in no other place but the Keanly Manor.

Panic started to rise as she tried to recall how she had gotten there, when had she gotten there. Then, slow moving fragments of last night began to emerge from the foggy corners of her mind, Noora’s face when she saw her, the worry in her eyes and how without a doubt she welcomed her back into her home.

Mara took a slow breath wielding her sudden panic to subside and herself to be present, a task proving to be difficult with a headache that made every heartbeat feel like pounding hammer in her ears.

Shutting her eyes she rubbed the back of her neck and swung her legs off the bed. With a creek from the floor boards she stood, feeling every ounce of weight put upon her mangled and swollen feet and with a step every muscle-ache and soreness sprung awake with it.

She stepped lightly to the window, pulling the curtain aside and looking vigilant from side to side over the garden before heading towards the door, listening for any signs of movement from the hall.

Mara pulled the door open and peered out into the empty hall. She could hear the distinct humming of Noora’s sweet melody coming from the kitchen and the smell of food that traveled all the way upstairs. She was about the go back inside when she glanced at the side to find placed on a round table by her door, a bundle of folded fresh clothes. Mara smiled at the sight as she gathered them in her arms, taking in their wonderful soapy scent; her appearance from last night had obviously not gone unnoticed to Noora.

Under the shower head, Mara stood still while the scorching water fell down her body burning and cleansing her skin, ignoring the swirls of brown and red that made their way to the drain.

The more her body relaxed, the more she felt the extent of her beaten body. The soreness from the fall on her shoulder and ribs had begun to fade making way for the sting of the new marks that would become visible on her back —like they always did— and join the growing constellation that had become her skin.

She could constantly feel the markings, pulsating and deepening with each passing day. At first the pain felt like a rhythmic stab, a never ending reminder of her sins, but now, they were a dull companion that crept silently into her sleep and made work with a different and slower kind of torturous reminder.

The time she got her first mark, she thought nothing of it, until she understood what triggered them. She had been blinded by fear, by anger; she had felt the man’s pulse under her palms as they tightened around his neck. A split second decision, she was not going to let herself be killed after everyone sacrificed so much for her, she didn’t even realize what she was doing until her hand glistened red from the dagger she gripped, a dagger that a second ago she had lodged into the man’s neck, the wound now oozing blood to the rhythm of his failing heart. The first time that blood had been spilled by her hand in this new world.

At first she did not understand but the more times she had to defend herself and the more blood was spilled, more markings appeared. Like branding iron she felt them form, burning deep through her skin as purple bruises deepened and blackened, taking shape and scarring her skin; black shapes that with time would pink and pale but would be forever present.

No marking was ever the same and the pain seemed to vary, some were small shaped causing mild pain while others greater in size rooted deeper within her skin and caused pain ten times their size. Now, like everything else, the body had managed to get used to it. To Mara, pain was always a constant.

Some time had passed when she noticed the water starting to run cold forcing her to step out of her vapouress cocoon, but as soon as the shower curtain was pulled back she faced a startling figure staring back at her. In one swift move, she reached for the light switch and submerged herself in darkness, her quickened breath echoing through the bathroom walls at the sight of herself in the mirror, a sight she hadn’t seen in years, a person she no longer recognized and wished to never see again.

Where has the majestic creature gone to? The voice vibrated through her mind.

In darkness she dried herself and ran a comb through her tangled hair before stepping out and started thrifting through the pile of clothes Noora had left for her.

In the pile there were a mix of shirts in all sizes, a sweater and a single pair of black cotton trousers that were a couple of sizes too big but she pulled them on just the same —the only alternative to her muddied destroyed jeans—. Choosing the thick camel sweater she began to slowly ease her protesting feet into the tattered boots, having to leave the laces halfway undone she made her way out of the room and down the grand stairs.

Mara could see the house clearer now in the light. A big airy house, with stone walls, high ceilings and large windows, and at the bottom of the stairs she remembered the always opened door to Charles study right across from the living room.

She reached instinctively for the door, but twisting the nob she found it locked and again that feeling of uneasiness engulfed her. An uneasiness that she knew well but kept choosing to ignore.

“All is well… you know, keeping busy.” She heard Noora’s voice traveling from the kitchen “How’s the road? A-ha a-ha” her voice carried.

Mara stood silently by the doorway of the kitchen not wanting to intrude while Noora rummaged through the fridge with the phone to her ear.

“How far are you?” Noora asked into the phone “you let me know— JESUS” she almost dropped the phone when she turned and saw Mara standing by the door “No! It was nothing, just something out in the garden.” She explained to the person at the other end of the line “I have to go, call me when you’re near” she hung up unceremoniously.

 “You gave me a fright, child!” Noora laughed nervously at Mara “Well come and sit, don’t stand there like that, you’ll grow roots.” she gestured.

“Sorry.” Mara said, self-conscious.

“It’s forgotten. Coffee?” Noora asked.

“Please.” Mara sat at the kitchen table glancing out the garden through the opened door “What time is it?”

“A bit passed noon, dear. I thought you were going to sleep all the way till’ Sunday, I wanted to check on you and collect your clothes for a wash but a just didn’t have the heart to disturb you.”

“You should have woken me. It would have been alright, this is your home after all.”

“Nonsense, dear.” Noora waved off, fussing over the kettle and the coffee mugs.

“So,” Mara began tentatively “What’s new around here, where is Charles?” to that last question Noora halted in the spot turning to face her.

“Everything around here is well” she smiled sweetly, the question etching around her lips “What about you, Mara dear, how have you’ve been?” there it was, the worry.

Mara tried to return her smile but somehow it could not be conjured.

“Noora I want to apologize…the way I came here last night, I didn’t”—

“Hush,” said Noora forcefully holding her gaze, “Nothing gives me more peace than to see you here, so no apologizing. Understood?”

“Yes.” Mara replied softly.

“Well, you certainly heal fast,” Noora said, smiling, “your face is almost back to its usual loveliness.”

“Some heal faster than others” Mara said under her breath, while Noora pretended not to have heard.

“Now,” Noora said with a clap, “coffee first and perhaps you’d like to try and eat something? You didn’t eat anything last night.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Mara smiled this time.

“Oh dear! Don’t tell me that because I will have you rolling out like a barrel when you leave.” Noora winked with delight.

After Noora made sure that Mara had eaten, she rambled about non consequential things while Mara helped her wash the dishes but she did not hear a word Noora said, her eyes kept traveling out the window and into the woods, her mind buzzing with a question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. After a while the words just rolled out of her tongue.

“Would you show me where he is?” Mara asked in a whisper, silencing Noora, “Charles, would you show me where he is?” Noora’s sad eyes gazed pass the window and back at her.

“How did you know?”

“It’s hard to miss” Mara said.

“Leave those there,” Noora commanded, “and come with me.” She grasped Mara’s hand and led her out pass the garden.

“Charlie passed away five years ago, as of yesterday,” Noora said as they stopped at the far edge of the garden “That stubborn man. He made us bury him in the woods.” She gave a light laugh pointing out to the thick trees.

“How did it happen?” Mara asked feeling a heavy weight pressed on her chest.

“That does not matter now”

“I should have been here” I should have felt it, why didn’t I feel it?

Mara knew that answer to that. Distance.

 “You had no way of knowing,” Noora said innocently, “and we had no way of contacting you. You left so abruptly.”

“I’m so sorry Noora.” Mara’s voice cracked.

“None of that! Charlie lived a full life and he made his own choices. God knows I loved him but he was a difficult man who made quite a few wrong decisions.” Noora emphasized those last words drilling her blue eyes at her. “You are here now and that is what matters.”

Mara released her hand from Noora’s hold and took a step towards the trees before Noora stopped her.

“There is one thing I should tell you… That phonecall…James is on his way here and I wasn’t sure if you would want to stay.” she asked with hope in her voice but just one look at Mara she knew what the answer would be. “Alright, I will prepare some things for you to take with you and you can have Charlie’s car.”

“Noora”—

“There will be no discussion, you will accept what I give you and you will do so for my own peace of mind.” Her tone stern. She left Mara no other thing to do but to nod before retrieving into the trees to bid farewell to an old friend.

“Don’t worry Mara darling,” she remembered him saying, “everything has a reason for being, nothing ever goes to waste”

 

Mara hadn’t walked to deep into the woods when she saw it. A plain white tombstone nestled between the trees surrounded by bloomed flowers. When she was close enough she saw that no name was engraved on it, but only a phrase.

‘In light we shall meet’

That was the moment when a tear escaped her eyes, a tear she quickly wiped away. Mara believed it to be of bad custom to mourn a death. Instead, she walked closer and sat before it, crossing her legs and placing a hand on the cold stone.

“So this is how we are to reconcile.” She said amused, as a cold breeze made its way through the trees and swept past her making her smile.

“New life will spring from this very ground, and something extraordinary shall follow it.” Mara could imagine him saying.

Hello old friend.

2: Two: The Keanlys

As she stood before Keanly Manor, her eyes wandered over the once familiar house, noticing a glimmer of light in one of the bedroom windows. They were home and she battled with the voice in her head that told her that it wasn’t safe, that she should keep walking. 

The girl walked slowly toward the back door, her legs deciding for her while her mind ran through all the risks that might come from being here. Before she was able to make herself knock on the door, it swung open, revealing an aged woman with wild reddish hair and a shocked expression on her face.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” said the disheveled redheaded woman, her hand clasping her opened mouth.

The drifter girl just stood there trying to find words while staring into the woman’s shocked eyes.

It wasn’t long until the woman reached and wrapped her arms around the girl “Mara,” the woman breathed. Mara, that’s what they called her. “Oh bless, look at you.” She said, pulling away and looking at her with maternal eyes while running her hands over Mara’s hair. It was a gesture so gentle and so loving, that it made the girls heart hurt.

“Hello, Noora,” she finally whispered, her voice coarser than she would have liked. She tried her best at an honest smile and felt the skin on her face tingle in protest to the gesture.

“Come in, come in,” Noora ushered, taking hold of Mara’s hand and pulling her inside.

Once they stepped inside, Mara tried gathering herself. Shaking off the cold and embracing the warmth of the house, while Noora fumbled for the light switch.

Once on, it revealed that they stood in the kitchen; a simple one with the same stone floor that ran along the rest of the house and a small wooden table to the side.

Mara, unaware that Noora still looked at her with amazement, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the unique sandalwood aroma of the house; the kind of scent that would always linger on her clothes for days after she had left, the kind that would always signify to her a version of home.

When she opened up her eyes again, she saw the clear look of disbelief on Noora’s face, a look that quickly turned in to alarm, once she noticed Mara’s state. She quickly led her to one of the chairs, afraid Mara would collapse right there on her floor.

They sat there in silence for a moment, Noora never letting go of Mara’s hand. She held it tightly, reassuring herself that the vision before her was indeed real, afraid that Mara would simply disappear before her eyes if she let go.

“Mara,” Noora whispered her name again in awe.

To her, the simple act of being called by that name gave her such a feeling of belonging. That had been the name Charles had given her upon meeting her, concluding that knowing her true name would be too intrusive. Odd as it was, she had embraced it, a name reserved only for them and the girl they thought they knew.

There is great power in one’s true name, Charles had said to her that night.

For Mara, it felt like it had been only yesterday she had sat across from him with his youthful enthusiasm, but as she noticed the lines that adorned Noora’s eyes now, she realized that it was not the same for them. For them it had been years ago, almost thirty years since that night and eight years since the last time they saw her.

“Your hands are freezing!” Noora said loudly “Would you like some tea? Yes, some warm tea will take the chill away.” She stood, going straight for the kettle and placing it onto the stove, before rummaging about for some mugs.

Mara found herself studying her. Her reddish hair was no longer as bright as it used to be, and it was shorter now. Her face showed deeper lines, some from joy while other were obviously from worry and suffering, that ran deep across her forehead.

Even her stature had changed, Mara noticed. Once having stood tall and proud with her scottish build, she now seemed smaller, as if the same worries that had marked her face had weighed her down and shortened her spine. It came as a surprise, how strongly the years reflected on Noora.

With every passing minute, Mara’s tiredness felt heavier and heavier. She knew that she would have to pay once she slowed down and now, every sore muscle and every bruise were starting to wake up and demand attention.

Noora saw from the corner of her eye how Mara’s darkened eyes followed her and winked at her in return, with ease.

“You should take that thing off before you catch a cold.” She gestured toward Mara’s jacket, moist with midnight mist.

She quickly shrugged the tatty thing off and held it in one hand while she assessed the mess she had made. Mud tracks decorated the floor to where she sat and water stained the wooden chair.

“Don’t worry about that sweetie,” said Noora.

“Sorry,” Mara whispered, realizing how she must look through Noora’s eyes. After such a long absence and now to return like this, it wasn’t the best impression.

She tried to make herself decent as much as she could, wearing a sweater obviously more than a couple sizes too big, ripped and stained, torn and burnt jeans and her stolen muddy boots, in which her feet now throbbed.

Running her finger through her long and tangled hair, she managed to tie it in a loose knot at the nap of her neck just as the kettle screeched. Rapidly it was off the stove and hot water poured in to the mugs that had been set on the table a second before.

Smiling, Noora slid the mug in front of Mara as she tried to wipe her hands clean in her already all too dirty jeans.

She grasped the tea mug with both hands, in an attempt to regain feeling in her finger tips and to prevent it from sliding off her hand, and brought it to her numb lips, letting them be scorched by the drink before taking a long sip.

A couple of sips had been enough for the warmth to envelop her body as it gratefully welcomed the warm miracle, making her anxieties ease a bit.

Calm.

If Mara did not know any better she would have thought this woman was an angel. Right now, she was her savior.

“A little extra warmth?” Noora shook the bottle of scotch she held on her other hand and, with a grin, she poured a splash.

Savior.

“It’s good to see you, Mara dear,” she said, taking Mara’s hand in hers as her grin turned into a soft smile. Noora’s eyes burned with questions. Questions Mara knew would never get asked, just because that’s how it was. The Keanlys had learned early on not to ask questions they knew she could never answer sincerely.

Noora’s eyes searched over her. She looked Mara’s face, not a day older from when they met. Her eyes were darker now, from the once light amber. Beneath the never changing exterior, she could see that the heaviness she knew Mara always carried, seemed to have catched up with her. Mara had always been a private person, never really sharing anything about her past or current life, appearing one day and gone the next, but this felt different.

Noora could sense it; Charles had called it superstitious nonsense, but holding Mara’s hand in that moment, she could feel the shift in her energy, like a waning candlelight fighting to stay lit amidst a windy storm; but she couldn’t make herself ask, because with just one look at the state Mara was in and the heavy silence that accompanied it, made Noora want to do nothing else but make Mara forget, if even for an hour, the reality she live; whichever reality that was, Noora didn’t know.

“You look almost like you did the last time we saw you,” she said, “It’s like stepping back in time.” Noora teased.

“Or a parallel universe,” Mara said, heart wearily. She knew that Noora’s kindness prevented her from voicing what she truly saw when looking at her. Appearances were appearances, and Mara knew she looked like a poor soul who had wandered for too long, as she had done.

“I hope I didn’t give you too much of a scare, showing up like this, I—”

“Nonsense, dear,” Noora waved off “The wind spoke to me before I saw you walking up the path, and who else could it be but our dearly missed wanderer” she smile sadly as her grip on Mara’s hand tightened.

To other ears, that explanation would have meant nothing, but for Mara who had years to get to know the woman before her, knew that this scottish born, was the most superstitious of them all. Always trying to read tea leaves and announcing company every time a knife fell or a candle flickered.

She was quite the contrast to her seemingly proof-only kind of man that was her husband, but all who really knew Charles would know that there was no bigger dreamer than him.

“Noora, where is Charles? I know he might not want to see me, but a would like to talk to him for a moment” Mara said, noticing that it had been a while since they sat down and still there was no sign of the big blaring man.

Noora’s smile slipped from her lips for a split second as she played with her tea, avoiding Mara’s intent gaze.

“He’s not here, dear,” she said, finally meeting Mara’s eyes, sending a freezing stab of worry through her chest. She knew that meant something, something that her weary mind could not get a hold of at the moment. A question better left for tomorrow, she told herself.

“Did the tea help, would you like something to eat?” Noora asked without being able to help herself.

“No, I’m alright.” Mara knew that a cup of tea was the extent of what her body would allow her to consume at the moment. She thought of it as funny, of how the body rebels on itself, the longer without food, the harder it gets to accept it.

She gave out a wary smile as she ran a hand down the side of her face, feeling a sensitive spot near her jaw, noting that the bruise would be quite visible in the morning. Noora eyed the scratch on Mara’s cheek and the burns on her hand and sighed.

“Let’s take care of those,” she said getting up to retrieve supplies before Mara could stop her.

“You don’t need to,” Mara said, “they’ll heal on their on their own” she was going to say soon, but wasn’t sure if that was true anymore. Before, her injuries wouldn’t last more than a day or two, but now, it seemed like her body was becoming more vulnerable with each passing day, her energy not as strong as it once had been. She had been warned that this would happen, but still, it always caught her off guard.

Noora wouldn’t have it, “maybe you don’t mind having dried blood all over your face, hands and God knows where else, but I do,” she said those last words forcefully, and grabbing a moist cloth and some iodine she faced Mara with determination.

She began with the gruesome scratch on Mara’s cheek, before carefully dabbing a Q-tip along her cheek; silently shaking her head at the injuries as she went while Mara kept her face clear of any pain.

“I know you don’t like to be asked, but, how on earth did all of this happen?”

“I jumped out of a second floor window and got slightly burned in the process,” Mara answered honestly.

“Goodness!” She knew that Mara was resilient, but falling off a second floor and only have this few injuries was something else. Noora glanced in to Mara’s eyes for a second with question, but she showed no signs of fleshing out any details of the incident.

“I’m alright,” said Mara, giving her a slight smile, “I can tell you all about it some other time”

“You look so tired, dear,” Noora said, standing abruptly giving Mara a start “You’re staying here tonight, come along.” She commanded Mara to follow her.

Mara knew it wouldn’t be wise to stay long. After the mess she had made a couple of days ago she still couldn’t be sure if someone would be tracking her; there was a pretty good chance that word had begun to spread about her assault and of how she repaid the favor and if by some chance she led them to this house, she would never forgive herself.

And yet, she let herself be ushered by Noora. She would deal with the consequences in the later.

On the other side of the kitchen threshold all that could be seen were the shadows of the living room furniture, no moon to shine in from the windows. Noora walked around them toward the grand staircase without trouble while Mara followed behind, making their way in silence.

Up the stairs and to the right, Noora led Mara to the familiar door at the end of the hall.

 “It’s just as you left it. Charles always said that we could never know when you would show up,” her sweet voice vibrated through the silence as she pushed the door open.

He still believed I would come back.

Noora walked in, switching on the lamps as Mara waited by the door, doing her best not to collapse in the doorway.

She saw that the single bed was made; the futon was still in the corner next to a small library of Charles’s books she borrowed on her stays here. There were quite a lot of books, which made testimony on her stays in this house, mostly keeping to herself and in this room.

It wasn’t big, but it was comfortable. Home.

Mara questioned how the mind tends associates that concept. Apparently hers had decided that this, for her, was home; a house where she only spent a couple of days at a time.

Noora, still doing her inspection, opened the bathroom door and turned on the lights to assess.

“There are some towels in the cabinet in here, if you wish to take a bath,” She said, fiddling with her hands as Mara took a step inside and sat gently on the bed. The mattress molding around her as it yielded under her light weight.

“Alright,” was all the response Mara’s mind could signal.

“Ok then, I will leave you to rest. If there is anything else you need I’m down the hall, alright?” She ran a gentle hand over Mara’s cheek before turning to the door.

“Noora,” Mara called, jumping out of her inclusion and grasping her hand “Thank you.” She tried to convey all the emotion she could in to those two complex words. Hoping that this woman knew how much she cared for her, and Noora seemed to read it in her eyes.

 Returning the grasp to Mara’s hand she nodded with crystal blue eyes, filled with understanding Mara’s unspoken thoughts.

After so many years of knowing Noora, she had shown her nothing but kindness. Mara remembered the time she had come back to find a recently married Charles; the shock on her face when he introduced her, but she never asked a single question. Instead, Noora said ‘he has spoken so fondly of you’, before leaving them alone in the study where they spent the entirety of the night catching up on missed time.

“Charles wouldn’t have it any other way,” Noora said embarrassed, “We’ll have plenty to talk in the morning. Rest and you will see that everything feel better when the sun rises.” She patted Mara’s hand before leaving the room. Closing the door behind her, she disappeared to the darkness of the hall with a wink.

Mara sat there for a few heartbeats before realizing that her legs were in no condition to stand long enough to take a shower. Instead, she reached down and got rid of her boots, her feet throbbing at the glorious pressure release.

She pulled the filthy sweater over her head and sprawled back on the little piece of heaven.

Pulling herself up, she rolled the comforter over her and pulled down a pillow, hugging it close to her chest.

It had been a little over forty eight hours since she slept; she found out that unlike hunger, sleep was never far away. With a sigh, she felt her sight begin to blur and her eyelids fell heavy, submerging her in darkness.

But just as she began to drift into sleep, there were words that pricked around her foggy mind, a phrase. Something bothered her about it, nothing her tired mind was able to grasp before it went silent.

3: One: The Wanderer

    â€‹Death is a simple act. Never for the ones who stay behind.

She felt her knees pain when they crashed to the cold mud below, before his blood gushing body. She could hear the sound of the guards fast approaching and the screams of her brothers calling to her while the arrows whistled by, but she couldn’t respond to any of it. All sense of urgency seemed to have stopped when she saw his body fall to the ground by the force of the three arrows that pierced through his back and through his heart and lungs.

“Nahiel,” she whispered to her eldest brother when she reached him on the ground; his eyes glazed and his body motionless in the darkness, the fear beginning to crawl deep within. She couldn’t let her brothers pay the price for her, never them “Nahiel, please”

***

 

Her head hit hard against the edged side of the truck bed when it halted to a stop. She was so drained that she didn’t even noticed when her eyes fell shut, a thing she wouldn’t have done otherwise and after that dream she felt even worse.

The voices still swirled around her drowsy mind, the sticky feeling of blood coating her hands. Her brothers shouting at her ‘you have to move, now!’ In that moment she didn’t know that there was nothing as innocent and deadly as a choice; a choice made for the sake of one single person, a choice that almost always results as the single most deadly thing for everyone else.

The last of her nightmare vanishing when she heard the truck door slam close and the shuffle of boots approaching.

 “Here we are, girl.” Grunted the driver lowering the truck bed door.

Disoriented she peeled her eyes open, instantly blinded by the invasive bright light from the mid-morning sun; their faces disappeared, retreating back to that far place that her conscious mind could never reach, always leaving her with the heart piercing feeling of loneliness. Time was always a curious thing and right now it made her feel the absence of her brothers as deep as that day, a few lifetimes ago.

‘We will see each other in light’ 

She thought of it funny that out of all the vague and almost forgotten memories her mind always seemed to find a way to bring back the ones she wanted to forget the most in a constant state of replay. Never did she dream of pleasant times, perhaps happiness was too light and fleeting while sorrow and pain remained heavy and anchored within the soul.

The past always keeping her company, walking by her side.

“You alright?” Asked the driver steeling a glance at the girl, seeing her much clearer now than he had last night when she stopped him for a ride. Not a girl, but a very vulnerable looking young woman, perhaps in her early twenties.

In the sun her appearance could not be so easily concealed, she did her best by pulling down the sleeves of her rain jacket and letting her long hair fall to her face but that was not enough for him to dismiss her pale and sunken state.

A big violet bruise adorned the side of her chin, her right cheek a lively colored scrape all the way up to her temple; her lip was split and brown spots of dried blood stained her jeans. That was what the driver could see. And that was nothing compared to what she kept hidden under her clothes.

“Are you sure you want me to leave you out here? There is nothing for miles.” The driver spoke again, more softly this time.

She studied his wrinkled face trying to remember where she had told him to take her but looking around she couldn’t see any sign to tell her where she was; it didn’t matter, the farther away she got, the better.

“Thank you.” Was all she said, her voice hoarse, avoiding his intense gaze and hoping off the back of the truck, wincing at the sharp pain from her bruised ribs that she seemed to have forgotten.

He stared at her for a few seconds longer before giving a light shrug while securing the latch door and getting back behind the wheel.

“You’d better put some ice on that, drifter girl.” He said before he drove off, her hand rising instinctively to cover her cheek.

Standing at the side of the dirt road she watched as the truck got farther away. With nowhere else to go she took cover under the thick forest trees and began her tread to anywhere and nowhere.

***

All sense of time had vanished from her.

Her fatigued muscles sent jolts of pain up her legs with each dragged step she took. Her feet, swollen heavy and blistered, rustled the dried leaves below filling the night’s silence. Long gone were the stealth movements and her alert senses, all her concentration focused on taking a step after another. A step at a time until she felt it again, until she had something to guide her.

Never did she really settle in one place long enough for comfort. She was always prepared to leave; always alert and the guilt never went away. She had resigned herself to living out the rest of her life in solitude, existing through fleeting moments in everyone else’s life never creating attachments, although some couldn’t be helped and those were the ones that hurt the most.

Always seeing others grow into their lives, experiencing each moment and she found it beautiful, the resilience of the spirit is beautiful but she couldn’t help but feel a sting of bitter sadness that all her happiest moments in life had already passed. It was always a mixture of comfort and heartache that came with witnessing someone’s life as she had done several times, in the bittersweet end.

 She had seen so many lives and accompanied so many last breaths that she wondered if there would ever come a time when the heartache would be gone, but it never was, each time it was different but never far behind; always standing untouched by time as a perpetual witness to the gift of souls.

She would outlive the rest of her days, she thought, until the day she felt the unmistakable pull of the bond. In that moment she knew that every last bit of energy she had left would be spent on making things right and she wouldn’t let herself go until she had seen it done.

She understood that time was no longer infinite for her and that her last breath would be drawn with this last task and somehow it gave her comfort. Comfort to know that she no longer would have to look over her shoulder. Comfort that she would no longer see another life pass by and hoping that by some grace from the Gods her mistakes would be forgiven and forgotten.

How seemingly harmless the choices seemed so long ago, a choice made from the heart and out of selfish love, a choice that had cost her and her people everything.

There just isn’t free will when you exist within a storm of Gods and monsters.

 She once had said that the universe would never be so cruel, now she did not see it as cruelty, she understood it for what it was a simple speck of dust amidst the schemes of the Universe.

***

She walked unable to recall how much time had passed since she began her tread towards nowhere. The only certainty she had was that the sun had gone away and had greedily taken its warmth with it, leaving her under a moonless black sky with a merciless cold wind that made her limbs numb and her skin sting, as being sliced by sharp shards of glass with each passing breeze that touched her face.

As her aches began to fade with the cold, her mind wandered.

Until three days ago she had been alone, everything changed when she felt something she hadn’t felt in so long that mad her believe she was no longer was able after her last brother died, afraid of thinking of  the alternative, but after all these years she felt it like a stab in the heart, she felt the pull of her brother calling to her and she knew that he was still alive, not well, for a pain so intense, but still alive and that was what mattered, it was enough.

And soon after that trouble arrived, as it always did.

She walked back to her small apartment when she felt two men following her, it didn’t matter how careful she was, someone always became curious, gravitated towards her; it wasn’t their fault, they never knew what they were sensing which always meant trouble and she had no energy to fight them out in the street.

She lured them in to her home where she would be able to control the situation. Leaving  the door open she went straight for the kitchen, reaching for the bag under the sink and unzipped it.

Inside there was anything she might need, money some clothes and food, she opted to change her shoes and pulled out the boots because from the footsteps of the men walking up the stairs they weren’t feather light and she would need all the help she could get.

She knew she could handle them; it was only a matter of what they wanted. When she heard them reach the floor she pressed herself to the wall next to the opened door and saw how slowly the first man entered the apartment. Shaved head and with skin dark as chocolate, both men could easily be twins if it wasn’t for the height difference.

It took the first man three steps inside before turning her way, he had emerald eyes and a brow covered in sweat, but she did not move until he made his first move, the wrong one. He lunged at her with all his weight and all she had to do was step aside and give him a push to break his balance. The short one shifted on his feet waiting for her to make a move.

“What do you want?” She had asked.

“We came to collect.” Said emerald eyes in a Nigerian accent right before he took out his gun while the short one rammed her against the wall, in a second he was already on the floor from a knee to the stomach and a jaw fracturing hit. They fought with brute force, but then, so did she.

“Be still, witch!” Shouted Emerald eyes, pressing the gun to her temple and a hand to her throat ­­­­— Unbelievable.

“Is that what they told you I was?” Her tone calm.

“That’s what we felt, no point lying about it.”

She was curious now and wasn’t quite ready to shut him up just yet. “Tell me, if you’re here to collect me, then where do you intend to take me?”

“Where they offer the best money.” He said with a smile.

“You really are new at this, aren’t you?” And at that comment he back handed her across her jaw.

With the same force she got whipped to the side she pushed forward, elbowed him on the kidneys and grasped his head, smashing it to the side of the kitchen table.

The short one from behind intended to render her unconscious with the butt of the gun, but her reflexes were to quick and as she turned she drew a small dagger from her sleeve and sliced at his face, cutting his eyelid across.

Emerald eyes woke and tackled her to the floor while short one waved the gun around while holding his bleeding eyes.

While Emerald tried to get a hit to her face she tried to see where her bag had fallen; it had fallen next to the window. She kneed Emerald eyes between the legs with such force that he would have fallen on her if she hadn’t rolled to the side.

Short one was yelling and shaking from pain when he saw he and began to fire without control or direction. She barely had time to swipe the bag when a bullet hit the gas line and the explosion propelled her out the window, two stories down and on to the asphalt. Her entire side nearly crushed, lucky for her nothing broke.

Brutes and their guns.

They were occultists. She had seen their protuberant branding mark on their hands. Silly people with mere developed senses. But these weren’t the silly sort, they were strange, an apparent new acquisition, employees to do the ground work.

And she had left as soon as she fell before more showed up.

Whatever she had done after that until now was a blur. She was alright with not remembering the details; the only thing that mattered was that she had dealt with it. How she had done it, was of no importance.

The wind whipped her hair as she took a couple more painful steps and a sense of familiarity overcame her.

Peeling her eyes off the ground, her chest tightened as she recognized unmistakably, even in the masking darkness, where her feet had brought her.

The Keanly Manor was in clear view before her. She had been walking the back woods without noticing it, all this time her subconscious was dragging her here, of all places.

She took a look up at the stoic stone house as her heart began to pound against her sore ribs.

Frozen in place, her mind desperately tried to conjure one of the many reasons she should walk away and head somewhere else, but none would come and she had already begun to walk through the back gardens.

The house looked majestic, as it always had. The Keanly’s, Charles and Noora, had always taken such pride of their home. Always welcoming her without judgment or hesitation. The illusive wanderer, they had called her once.

Inevitable attachments.

She had considered them more than friends once. Even after all this time she still did.

I wonder if they still consider me theirs.

She hadn’t felt that deep yearning for this place, until now. Realizing how alone she would feel if she was no longer welcome.

While she neared the back entrance, she thought of Charles. Forgetting those angry last words he had said to her. She thought of the first time they had met, of how unceremoniously she had appeared at his doorstep and had been welcomed by this handsome passionate young man, full of legends and theories and there she was, willing to provide him with an unlimited source of knowledge. That’s how everything had begun, the same reason why everything had ended.

And yet here she was at their doorstep once more.