Chapter 1 #5
The moment home came into view, a deep sense of relief flooded over me like cool water on a scorching day. The whitewashed walls gleamed orange in the sunset, the blue door standing out like a jewel against the simple exterior.
We passed through the small courtyard, where a single olive tree cast dappled shadows across the stone tiles. A ceramic fountain bubbled in the corner, the gentle splash of water a welcome sound after the noise of the market.
Theo helped bring the satchels inside, the wooden door creaking on its hinges as we entered the cool interior.
He set them onto the wood table in the centre of the main room, its surface polished smooth from years of use.
The bags landed with a soft thud, stirring up dust that danced in the slanting rays of sunlight that streamed in from the narrow windows.
The room was rich with the scent of fresh herbs and spices hanging from woven baskets near the open shelves. Their vibrant colours painted the room with warmth.
My mother unpacked her purchases, laying out bundles of mint and coriander on the countertop, sorting and arranging with practised efficiency.
“You must stay for tea,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Theo. Her tone made it clear it was not a request.
“He can’t,” I said quickly as I leaned against the doorframe. “Isn’t that right Theo?”
“I can,” he countered smugly, unlacing his sandals and leaving them by the door. “And I will.”
Theo flicked my forehead. I flinched at the sharp sting.
He made himself comfortable, sprawling across the cushions around the low wooden table, stretching his legs out and leaning against the wall like he owned the place.
If I was being honest, this was practically his second home. When he wasn’t off travelling, he was here, eating our food, lounging around and most importantly, getting on my nerves.
I suppose I understood why. With no family left, he only had us.
I sighed, the sound heavy with resignation as I sank onto one of the embroidered cushions, closing my eyes as I let the exhaustion of the day settle in.
“We saw a Seer today.”
Theo’s voice broke the quiet. My eyes shot open, all previous exhaustion gone in an instant.
My mother froze, a bundle of herbs clutched in her hand.
I snapped my head so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash, and my eyes narrowed into a glare. Theo, the traitor, didn’t even notice, too focused on a piece of almond cake he’d snatched from the plate.
Shit. I forgot to tell him not to say anything.
“Shut. Up,” I hissed, my knuckles whitening from how hard I clenched my fists.
Oblivious as always to the tension that had descended upon the room, Theo took a causal bite.
“Elira!” My mother’s voice was tight, all warmth drained from it. She set the herbs down as she rubbed her temple.
“How many times have I told you about Seers? They are tricksters. Nothing they say is true. They tell people what they want to hear for a few coppers, and leave them with nothing but fear and doubt.”
She sank into a chair at the table, her body suddenly smaller, more fragile. She tapped rhythmically against the cool wood, a habit she’d fall into when anxious.
Tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap-tap. The sound echoed in the now quiet room.
“Ummi, nothing happened,” I reassured. “She couldn’t even tell me mine, and—” I jabbed a finger in Theo’s direction, “he made me do it!”
“Hey!” He protested, still chewing.
He swallowed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It was just a bit of fun. We didn’t take it seriously.”
I scowled at him, but my mother’s shoulders relaxed as he continued.
“A load of shit. I mean, nonsense. Sorry.” He threw her an apologetic look, ducking his head at the slip.
His fingers absently brushed away the crumbs that had fallen onto his lap, completely unbothered by the hole I was trying to stare into his skull.
“She said something about women falling at my feet.” He gestured toward himself dramatically. “We all know that’s already happening, so it’s hardly a prediction.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw the back of my skull.
“And something about travel,” he went on, waving a hand lazily in the air. “A journey, a grand adventure. Blah, blah, blah. You know, the usual mystical gibberish. Total guesswork, if you ask me.”
“No one asked you, Theo,” I snapped, dragging my hands down my face. “Why don’t you go back to stuffing your face and keep your mouth shut?”
My mother’s expression shifted, her hands stilling their anxious movement. She turned to me, eyes dark with an emotion I couldn’t place.
“And what of you, Elira?”
The question hung heavy in the air, weighted with something more than simple curiosity.
I hesitated, my gaze drifting upward as I pretended to search my memory.
“I can’t remember,” I lied, avoiding her penetrating stare. “Nothing interesting, I guess. Just vague nonsense, like Theo said.”
I tried to brush it off with a causal shrug, but Theo—the idiot—spoke before I could steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Didn’t she say something about a bargain?”
I wanted to kill him.
“What did you just say?” Her voice was a whisper, but it carried across the room with the force of a shout, the colour draining from her face.
I clenched my jaw until it ached. “You’re a real thorn in my ass, you know that?”
He had the decency to look confused, his eyebrows drawing together as he glanced between my mother and me before finally sensing the tension in the room.
My mother’s eyes had taken on a haunted quality, the lines around them suddenly more pronounced in the fading light.
I sighed, rubbing the tight muscles in the back of my neck, forcing myself to speak before Theo could make things infinitely worse.
“She mentioned a bargain being called in, and something about things not being as they seem.” The words spilled out quickly, tumbling over each other.
I moved to kneel beside my mother’s chair. I reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, feeling the bones beneath her skin.
“I don’t even know what that means. I got up and left. Trust me, Ummi, I didn’t read much into it, and neither should you.” I tried to project a confidence I didn’t entirely feel. “It’s like you always say, they’re tricksters looking for easy money.”
She smiled down at me, but the warmth didn’t reach her eyes. They remained distant, as if looking through me to some far away memory or fear.
Then, shaking off the thought, she stood, her movement abrupt enough to make me jerk back.
“Okay,” she said softly, smoothing her hands down her tunic. “I believe you. Just… promise me you won’t do that again. Either of you.”
We nodded as one, our heads bobbing like chastised children. “We promise.”
She held our gaze for a moment longer, then went to her bedroom, closing her door with a soft click.
Theo walked towards me and leaned in to whisper, “That was so weird, right?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I pulled back my fist and punched him. Hard.
“Dumbass.”
Theo let out a muffled, “ow!” and clutched his jaw. “What did I do now?”
I just shook my head and walked away, leaving him standing there, his arms raised in confused surrender.
I gasped, shattering the silence as I jolted upright in bed. My lungs burned as though I had surfaced from drowning, my chest rising and falling in frantic bursts. The heat still lingered, blistering like flames beneath my skin.
Desperate to shake the sensation, I raked my fingers through my tangled hair, tugging hard at the strands, hoping the pain could ground me. But the memory remained seared into my mind, as vividly as if it had truly happened.
His eyes, dark and endless, had watched me. Cold amusement flickered behind them as the fire consumed me.
“When will this nightmare end?” I whispered into the quiet.
Too quiet.
Something was wrong.
The golden morning light shone through the sheer curtain, casting soft patterns against the floor, but there was no clatter from the kitchen, no warm smell of baking bread, no gentle hum of my mother’s morning routine.
A strange unease settled in my gut.
Where is she?
I threw off the covers and rushed towards her room. My heart hammered with each frantic step.
Hands trembling, I pushed the door open, bracing myself for the worst.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
She was sitting at the edge of her bed. Relief crashed over me, but the feeling vanished as quickly as it had come. Something was wrong. She was too still, her posture rigid. Her hands were limp in her lap and her eyes locked on the window, as if transfixed.
“Ummi?”
No response.
I stepped closer. “Ummi, are you okay?”
A knot of worry tightened in my chest. I lowered myself onto my knees before her, the hard floor biting into my skin.
I reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. The moment my skin met hers, she startled like someone being pulled from a distant dream. Slowly, her gaze drifted to mine, unfocused at first, then sharpening with recognition.
My stomach plummeted. Her eyes—usually so warm—were swollen and red-rimmed, the delicate skin beneath bruised with exhaustion.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I pleaded, taking her trembling hands into my own. “Should I get the healers? Are you feeling unwell?”
“I just wish I had more time.”
The words didn’t make sense. My brows knitted together as I scanned her face for answers but found only sorrow. A single tear slipped down her cheek, glistening in the warm light.
“Don’t say that.” I sprang to my feet, already turning toward the door. “I’m getting the healer. I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Her hand shot out, fingers curling around my wrist. “There is nothing wrong with me, Elira.”
Something about the way she said my name, like it was a fragile thing, sent a chill down my spine.
I knelt before her once more, searching her face.
“Then what is it?” I asked softly. “Please, just tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
Her whole body shuddered as fresh tears spilled free. She shook her head, her lips parting and closing like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.
I had never seen her like this, not even when my father died. Back then, she had been a pillar of strength, allowing herself to break only in the dark of night when she thought I was asleep. What could have possibly reduced her to this state?
Then she whispered, so faintly I almost missed it.
“What have I done?”
My blood ran cold.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to contain her sobs. She rose from her bed, covering her face as she stumbled away, using the doorframe to hold herself upright.
I rushed to her side, nearly tripping in my haste.
She wouldn’t look at me, her eyes glued to the ground below and shoulders slumped inward.
“Come,” I urged, guiding her toward the sitting room. “I’ll make us some tea and then you can tell me whatever this is about. Okay?”
For a long moment she said nothing. Then, finally, with a reluctant nod, she agreed.
I worked quickly, preparing the tea as my thoughts spiralled. The aromatic scent did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside me.
I set the tray between us, pouring with steady hands, though my insides felt anything but.
She watched me, her fingers twisting in her lap.
Then at last, she spoke.
Malira
26 years ago.