Chapter 4 #2
I breathed deep, trying to keep my darker thoughts at bay. The aroma of fresh basil filled my nose, and I savored the subtle respite.
Soon enough, we were approaching the front doors of the Apothecary. Anxiety pricked my skin as my eyes scanned the perimeter. Nothing seemed out of place. There were no signs of the Sídhe Guard.
The door creaked open, and the familiar scent washed over me–a mix of curious herbs, steeping infusions, and a hint of nostalgia thrown in for good measure. Although today, it twisted my stomach. The thought of losing this made me want to crawl into a ball and disappear.
The countless rows of shelves, groaning under the weight of glass jars, housed a concoction of plant particles from across the realm that would make even the most established botanist gleam with envy.
Crystals, some glittering with the threads of enchantments, rested in every nook and cranny.
Barrels in the corners, marked with runes, some of which were so ancient that even Ma had difficulty understanding them, stored ingredients that were too rare to use daily.
A great deal of her collection was inherited, passed down from the previous owner.
This shop had been around for centuries.
The creaking floor beneath me was practically a relic, a witness to countless patrons who had come in with maladies both ordinary and unfathomable.
I followed Ma to the back.
I sat down at my station, craving the familiarity. Hoping to feel the calmness wash over me as it usually did when I gathered my tools and felt the rugged texture of my desk. But it never came.
I had decided to believe Osta, to accept that the events of last night were just some fucked up hallucination, but even as I repeated it to myself over and over again, I couldn’t make it feel real.
Sure, it made the most sense. Something deep inside me was still screaming that I was a murderer. That I was a Monster.
I glanced up at Ma as she gathered a few vials from the back shelves. My heart felt like it might explode. If she found out how dark my inner world had gotten… I didn’t let my mind go there
I managed to keep myself occupied enough, but the looming sense of the unknown continued to spiral. It was impossible to fully escape the questions that hung heavy.
I was surprised to find that, despite the crippling anxiety that radiated through me, I also felt an odd sense of peace.
This was the first time in weeks—maybe months—that I didn’t feel like I had to keep a constant grip on the cursed monstrosity that lived beneath my skin.
I could feel it… it was certainly there, but it wasn’t clawing at me. Wasn’t itching for release.
Perhaps it had had its fill the night before. The beast was satiated for now.
That thought nearly sent me retching.
Ma kept her eyes on me most of the day, watching intently as I tried to lose myself in work
I was well aware of what was to come. Ma's concern always simmered in silence, growing until she couldn’t hold it back anymore. This day wasn’t going to end without a conversation. And I was dreading it.
Esprithe be damned.
After trying and failing multiple times to light the coals under our cauldron burners. My fire starter had finally run out of oil after struggling with it all day, and I couldn’t find any matches laying around.
I groaned. After managing to successfully dodge Ma's questioning eyes, now it seemed my only option was asking her for help.
Sighing, I stood and peered in her direction to find her staring right at me as she expertly wrapped herbal poultices. The woman was relentless.
“Care to ask me something, Fia?” she shot my direction, her mouth creeping into a grin. I took a few steps toward her.
“It depends. Does requesting your help come with a price? Or would you do it out of the kindness of your heart?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh Fia. Everything has a price, you know that,” she said, winking at me. “Did you run out of oil for your burner?” Her grin turned oddly suspicious, her hands still busy at work with the poultices.
My eyes widened.
“Ma, I know you did not orchestrate this so that I would have to come talk to you,” I said, my tone curt.
“I would never do such a thing.” She clutched her chest dramatically. “But it is unfortunate, we seem to be out of both oil and matches. I’ll place an order for more, but they’ll take a few days to arrive, I’m afraid.”
I narrowed my eyes, but my lips betrayed me by twisting up at the corners.
Truly. Fucking. Relentless.
“Seeing that we’re out of both of those immensely important items, I guess I have no choice but to request your aid in lighting the coals for the cauldrons.” My voice was slick.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She laid the poultices down and shuffled over to my station.
Kneeling low, she pressed her hand against the coals. After a few seconds, smoke billowed. Sparks flew up from the pit, and the coals began to glow a brilliant red.
“That will never get old,” I said, trudging over to her.
“Well, it is my best party trick.” She smiled, and I helped her up from the floor.
“It’s far more than a party trick, Ma.” My eyes lingered on her before I turned, the guilt now creeping back in. I began filling the cauldron with water.
Ma's focus had manifested when she was younger, as was the case for most Aossí. She had set fire to a haystack while playing as a child, causing an entire slaughterhouse to burn to the ground. Although an accident, Ma loved to attribute it to her innate sense of justice— even at that young an age , she’d recall, pride flickering in her eyes.
We noticed the signs of Osta channeling fairly early. She was twelve and I was fourteen, and we had already been at the House of Unity for eleven years.
Although Osta tended to be a bit oblivious when it came to people, objects of the non-living variety couldn’t hide a thing from her.
She was always the most curious child, inspecting everything, asking questions that other children would never even think of.
Lady Fairbanks took full advantage of this once she found out just how talented Osta was, using her to fact check her financial documents and ensure any shopping receipts were correct.
She was always the first one to solve a riddle, or to point out some obscure location on a map.
Her focus was subtle, but the height of practicality.
It’s a part of what made her so talented with design.
She could look at something and immediately pinpoint what would bring about its greatest attributes.
Once Lady Fairbanks discovered that her talents could be used in this regard, Osta became her full-time seamstress at just thirteen. That was how Osta was introduced to her current employer, Thearna, who was not much better than Lady Fairbanks.
Most focuses were ordinary. A farmer might have a certain knack for identifying good soil deposits. A hunter might have a sixth sense when it comes to tracking. Ma could ignite small flames, but there was an entire Guard family who could send the world into a burning blunder.
Some never received the ability to channel. Others received such great power, they rivaled the Esprithe themselves. Some of us had no idea what our supposed focus was.
No, not some of us. Me.
Deep in my gut, I knew the truth: it wasn’t a focus at all.
It was a curse.
Ma wandered over to the stool near my desk and took a seat, eyeing me with reluctance. Her teasing smile morphed into a tight line.
“Fia, are we ever going to talk about it?” She cut off my train of thought.
I sighed, loading the arrangements of bark into my brewing sachet before flinging it into the cauldron to steep.
“What is it exactly that you want to know?” I slid into my chair, inhaling deeply.
“Fia… you never miss work. You looked like a ghost this morning... I couldn’t help but wonder…” Ma trailed off, taking her eyes off me for the first time today.
I felt a weight lift as her gaze shifted, but it also stirred something deep within me. Panic. The absence of her stare suddenly felt like a void, like a forest fire finally burning out to reveal the wasteland it left behind.
“Well, Ma. That’s not so revolutionary. I always look like a ghost,” I teased quietly, hesitating. Her eyes remained fixed on the floor. And my words passed over her like a joke she had heard one too many times.
I sat in silence for a long while, contemplating my options. This was exactly what I had been worried about. She knew me too well. And she wanted answers… She deserved answers, but how could I tell her?
“I was worried that something had happened…” She trailed off, her words heavy in the air.
Fear churned inside me. Would I endanger her by telling her my truth? Would I even be telling the truth if I told her my truth ? Would she find me completely insane? I was spiraling, the questions tumbling through the walls of my mind.
And yet, I shuddered away from the one possibility that was truly holding me back. The one I dreaded the most. The one that would change everything. The one where I lost Ma.
It was hard to even consider. Ma chose to see the good in me. A victim of circumstance. But if she knew what truly happened, could we survive? If I told her, would she finally see me as the monster she never believed I would become?
Even if Osta was right and none of it was real, normal people didn’t hallucinate themselves murdering people.
Normal people didn’t suffer from mind-bending nightmares that made them fear sleep nearly as much as they feared the world around them.
Normal people didn’t have to question whether their reality was in fact, real at all.
“Ma … I–” I whispered, just as the bells chimed from the front of the shop. We both turned our heads in the direction of the sound as if we had been woken from a trance.
Ma looked at me again, and my heart felt like it would give out. She paused for a few seconds, before giving me a sympathetic nod and making her way to the front.
Silence enveloped me. I breathed deeply, only mildly aware of the world outside of my own mind. Was this a sign to keep it all inside me?
Maybe the customer just needed a quick fix. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could bear the weight of anticipation. Slivers of voices echoed into the room.
Ma’s footsteps approached, and I looked up as she rounded the corner. Her expression was hollow. My attention crept to her left and the breath in my lungs turned to ice. The emerald eyes of General Ashford were staring back at me.