Chapter 2 #2
There was an ever-present silence that haunted the grounds as Anelize stepped onto the flagstones and approached the facade of the Old Church.
She walked past the opened archway, gazing upon the faded red and blue painted along the curving walls.
Each faded stroke depicted the rise and fall of the seven saints stretched out across the ceiling of the nave.
Worn from time or neglect, Anelize could hardly make out the faceless figures illuminated by the faint glow of the several long, thin candles that stood solemnly lit throughout the church.
The soft murmuring of voices to her left made her slow in her stride. Her gaze locked onto two figures sitting on the far end of one of the pews, their faces painted warm golden hues from the candlelight.
Anelize stifled a sigh as she watched Enid, who was smiling up at a young man she recognized and was none too surprised to find with her sister.
They leaned in close, his arm wrapped around her sister’s shoulders.
Just as Enid’s lips parted to speak, a slight flush on her cheeks, her eyes shifted over his shoulder and landed on Anelize.
“Don’t let me interrupt. I was merely passing through,” she said flatly as she approached.
They quickly broke apart, putting distance between each other. Equally flushing the same shade of pink.
“You left without me. Again,” Enid said by way of greeting, a slight pout on her lips.
“I left you to sleep for a change. I saw no point in having us both freezing out here to satisfy Magda’s demands.
Though, from what I can see, you had no problem leaving the shop yourself for entirely different reasons.
” Her gaze shifted to Wellyn, the only son to the Dobrin family that owned the tavern near the square.
The young man was the same age as Enid; both having turned twenty name days this year.
They’d practically known each other their whole lives.
Enough that Anelize trusted the boy with her sister.
Still, it wouldn’t have dissuaded Magda from creating a scandal if she’d been the one to have caught the two alone, even if it was within the walls of the Old Church. “Wellyn.”
“A-Anya.” The young man stood, running a hand through the thick red curls on his head. His eyes bright as they shifted from Enid to the eldest Yarrow sister. “You’re looking well. Running errands for the shop again?”
“Someone has to. A sentiment I hear you share, seeing as you’re to take up your father’s business someday.” Anelize grinned, always a glutton when it came to teasing Wellyn, merely to see him grow flustered by her swift assessment of him.
Like Enid, she had met the Dobrin boy through their father’s life-long camaraderie with the owners of the tavern. Kind people who had never quite developed the wariness so many of the citizens of Elvir possessed.
Timid, yet instantly taken with her sister, Wellyn and Enid had become close friends as they grew up together.
Unlike Anelize, who had been left with no choice but to leave her childhood behind and take her father’s place as the sole apothecary, Enid and Wellyn had been given the time to grow and flourish together, along with their own quiet hearts that slowly yearned for one another.
Her sister hadn’t told her that she’d started to fall in love with Wellyn for a long time, and yet Anelize had watched them from afar for so long that it hardly came as a surprise when she did.
Wellyn cleared his throat before turning to Enid. “Well, I think it best I be on my way.”
Enid nodded, standing from the pew and walking him toward the archway.
They both glanced at Anelize, who conveniently looked toward the clergyman as he walked past her, murmuring a greeting.
When she glanced back after a moment, she found the two wrapped in an embrace before breaking apart as if it would be the last time.
They both did it so often that Anelize couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
“How many times do I need to tell you to stop flustering him? Don’t you feel shame for constantly being his tormentor?” Enid muttered when she joined Anelize, tugging on the wool gloves she so loved to wear, the color a soft gray contrasting with the rose pink of her dress.
“It’s not my fault he scares easily.” Anelize chuckled, her voice echoing through the nave. “Besides, we’ve known each other our whole lives. I’d have assumed he’d grown used to me by now.”
“Growing accustomed to your jests doesn’t negate the fact that you intimidate him.
” Enid slumped down onto the pew, the ungraceful movement reminding Anelize of a golden-haired child dressed in a black mourning dress who had once gazed up at her through teary big eyes, both in admiration and uncertainty.
Even though Enid was no longer a little girl clinging to her skirts, Anelize could never truly shake the image from her memories.
The two girls standing before a snow-laden field, holding hands until their fingers had grown numb from the cold.
The scent of smoke and charred flesh clinging to them like a spider’s silk.
As a babe, Enid had always appeared to her as a porcelain figurine.
Fine, delicate lines and gentle eyes of hazel wood that looked upon the world beyond their shop with such wonder where there was none to behold.
The golden tresses that fell loosely around her shoulders reminded Anelize of the phantom warmth of the sun.
Enid Yarrow was a complete contradiction to the world outside, and, in many ways, to Anelize herself.
If Enid reminded her of a fresh spring day—if such a season ever graced them with its presence—then she supposed she was the embodiment of winter itself.
The only thing they shared, besides the blood that coursed through their veins, was their eyes.
A rich brown color that they’d inherited from their father.
At least, she assumed it had come solely from him.
Anelize had no recollection of what her mother looked like before she’d passed soon after Enid was born, taken by the insurmountable loss of blood during childbearing.
Her smile, her face, nothing more than a blur that had once been a memory.
The ghost of gentle, long fingers caressing the side of her face the only thing that remained.
Unlike Enid, however, dark circles marred the skin underneath Anelize’s eyes, cultivated from long days tending to folk who appeared at the shop searching for aid, or more recently, experimenting with remedies she spent countless hours testing over candlelight.
Her raven hair didn’t help in making her pallid complexion look any less sickly either.
More times than not, Enid doted on her. Worried she would grow sick like so many others.
Their aunt may not have cared enough for them when they were children, but Anelize and Enid had proved the only one they needed was each other. That was more than enough.
But no matter how tired she was, Anelize’s mind couldn’t help but rebel against the ceaseless stagnation within herself.
The constant starvation to feast upon answers she had yet to uncover.
Theories yet to be proven when it came to the malady.
Something which not even Enid knew, for Anelize had never given herself permission to voice her own desires.
The need to bring upon the end to the malady that had ruined all of their lives.
As fruitless as it may be after so many years.
She joined Enid on the pew, taking her hand in hers as they sat in silence, watching the clergymen dressed in their black robes as they walked about the vastness of the nave, silently lighting more candles before bowing to the faded saints upon the walls.
Once revered by all, now long since forgotten.
“Did you give him your answer then?” Anelize asked, glancing at her sister.
“Yes, I did.” Enid’s cheeks were the deepest shade of red, tears shining against the candlelight and a vibrant smile upon her lips.
Anelize’s own heart squeezed in her chest at the sight of her sister’s unmistakable happiness, which had been so fleeting over the years and never as bright as it was now.
Anelize murmured, squeezing her hand. “I see.”
“I wish to tell Magda today. She’s bound to find out eventually and I wish to do so before she hears any rumors in the market. And if she says yes—”
“She will,” Anelize asserted.
Enid beamed brighter at her words, fueled by her sister’s unwavering encouragement, “Very well. When she says yes, then we can marry. That is…if we have your support.”
Anelize released a sigh when Enid turned to face her fully, expectantly. “You’re really going to make me say it out loud?”
Enid nodded and smiled. Even though they both knew exactly how Anelize felt, her sister wanted to hear the words for herself.
Because there was no one Enid valued more than Anelize, a concept that the apothecary herself didn’t quite understand—and perhaps never would.
Her sister always saw the absolute best in people, no matter how little they deserved her faith or her trust.
Instead, she said, “As much as it will pain me to see you off to marry the Dobrin boy…you’ll hear no objections from me. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness, Enid.”
Hearing those words, Enid’s smile bloomed until Anelize was sure her cheeks ached.
It was a wondrous sight to witness such joy.
At that moment, she wondered if she had ever experienced such an odd, sweeping emotion that overruled everything else.
Be it from love or joy. She brushed the thought aside when such a memory did not come.
“Then you’ll help me speak with Magda tonight?”
“I will.” She rose from the pew with a sigh. “Though, you know as well as I that it won’t be an easy discussion. Prepare yourself for quite the tongue lashing.”
“Why else do you think I’m here? I need any bit of help I can get.
” Clasping her hands together in front of her, Enid placed her forehead against her knuckles as she sent a silent prayer to the saints surrounding them.
Enid had always believed in the saints. Maybe it was because it granted her a hope that was as fleeting as it was for naught.
Anelize never could bring herself to believe in that which she could not see with her own eyes. A rather ironic contradiction, all things considered…
The saints certainly hadn’t done much for them to gain her unwavering belief. Otherwise, their father would still be alive and they wouldn’t be hiding all these years. Afraid of their own shadows.
“I was on my way to the dormitory,” Anelize said, looking toward the opened archway that led into the atrium where a clergyman stood, waiting for her as he often did on her visits to the sick.
Enid nodded solemnly. “I am aware. I do not wish to go in there today. Forgive me.”
“I wasn’t going to ask in the first place.” She gave Enid’s shoulder a squeeze. “I can handle it on my own. Though you best return to the shop before Magda grows impatient with your absence. Best stay on her good side today.”
“Do you think this will ever end? The malady, I mean…” Enid asked, her voice soft, searching.
Anelize granted her a sardonic smile. “There is nothing man wants more than power, Enid. Dangle it within his reach, and he’ll do anything to achieve it. Even if he must reduce himself to a mere dog eating scraps off the street. It is what makes him so weak. And why he will never truly achieve it.”
Enid nodded, though she could sense it brought her no joy in admitting the reality of this city and the people who wished to become as powerful, as fearsome as the Vedrans who possessed power itself. If only to rid the world from the ones who came to possess such power first.
For nearly twenty years, King ?tefan Amaranth had deemed the Vedran people as Madic’s greatest enemies.
For the betrayal the Vedrans brought forth in their bloodthirsty need for vengeance.
A war that had carried on for years since she’d been a child.
Only fueled further after the queen was slain.
Then, just recently, they’d succeeded in murdering the crown prince as well. A boy by all accounts.
Thus, resulting in the two decades long battle and hunt for power between the Watchmen and Vedrans. In the end, neither side would truly win. There would only be more bloodshed. More lives lost, and more children left behind to fend for themselves.
She wordlessly followed the clergyman who led the way around the walkway of the atrium, rounded stone archways giving her a full view of the thick layers of snow that covered every inch of the garden.
In the center of the atrium sat a statue of a saint cut from marble, her head bowed as she stood atop a frozen fountain.
Forgotten, covered in a thick layer of snow.
Dressed in an eternal shroud. Her sorrow a shroud of itself.
When they arrived at the north end of the atrium, facing a long hall that led into the infirmary, the clergyman paused. He turned and motioned her forward, his eyes gingerly going from her to the single wooden doorway at the end of the hall.
Anelize paused, taking notice of his hesitancy.
“Thank you. I can find my way from here,” she said, and it was enough for him to turn on his heel and hurry away.
Much like all the clergymen did, for it was the one day when they could receive a reprieve of witnessing what laid beyond that door.
Until the rooms of the dormitory slowly found themselves empty.
Her boots clicked along the marble hall, the winds from the atrium creating a wailing howl in her wake as she approached the door.
The closer she got to entering the infirmary, the more the scent of rotting flesh invaded her senses.
She supposed it was a good thing Elvir was encased in eternal winter, otherwise it would have been unbearable even for her, no matter how accustomed she’d grown to the scent of the sick and dying.
Taking a steadying breath, she quickly retrieved a white cloth from the leather satchel at her side and tied it around her nose and mouth before placing her hand over the bronze handle of the door.
As she entered the infirmary, she couldn’t help but think that Enid had every right not to want to enter this condemned place.
For the ghastly sight of decaying bodies lying in beds was enough to create the worst of nightmares for many years to come.