Chapter 33 #2
There's also a whisper inside of me, so faint I can barely hear it, saying that leaving is somehow wrong.
I feel responsible for the fate of everyone I'm leaving behind.
I tell myself it's ridiculous—that there's nothing I can do.
I already have so many people I want to keep safe, and leaving is our only option.
But that whisper is still there— telling me I could do more—be more. And I hate it.
I walk alone, head down, and completely lost in my brain. I do a loop around a couple of streets, just to be sure I'm not being followed. The last thing I need is for Zander to find out about Sibs and ransack her house––or worse.
With that thought, I walk up her steps; lifting my hand to knock just as the door falls open before me, I gasp.
There stands Sibs, a sneaky grin plastered across her crinkled face. She doesn't give me a chance to say hello, just grabs my arm and yanks me inside, slamming the door behind me.
I stumble and, because of my horrible mood, I am turning to scold her, when she lunges at me, covering my mouth before I have the chance.
My eyes fly wide. She looks crazed. I start to say something, but she flicks my nose, putting a stern finger to my lips, commanding silence.
I relent, giving into the old woman. Right as I do, I hear a thud outside.
A unfamiliar man's voice, I don't recognize, booms from the other side of the door.
Panic floods me. How was I followed? I was so careful.
Sibs gives me a gentle nod and she motions for me to hide, and I duck into the small bathroom.
Sibs talks to the man, her raspy, tired voice not sounding at all worried as he barks at her, asking questions I can't quite make out.
My heartbeat drums against my ribs loudly as I try to even out my breathing.
I realize that if I'm found in here, everything is ruined, making me feel desperate.
But then, to my utter surprise, I hear the door firmly shut. I wait, counting in my head.
"Come on out, dear, he's gone," says Sibs gently.
"Were they looking for me? I'm so sorry, Sibs, I thought I was careful. What did he want?"
"Calm yourself, child. Everything's fine. They have been doing routine checks for the last week or so. Raids. They always leave me alone fairly quickly, though," she sighs, sounding exhausted.
I frown, looking around her house again, still covered in all things "bad". Not to mention the fact that the officer must've seen me. I had literally just come in the door. I give her a questioning look.
"I haven't gotten here without a few tricks up my sleeve, dear.
I have my ways." She winks at me and then continues, "also, I always seem very keen on the young gentlemen staying and keeping me company, there's nothing that makes young people run away faster than a talkative, old woman who wants to hold them captive.
Fools!" She laughs, and my body relaxes slightly.
I sit, pressing my palm flat against my chest. Calming myself.
Sibs eyes me, worry passing over her features.
"Maple, I know you came here for more answers... but I wonder." She looks at me empathetically.
"What do you wonder, Sibs?" I sigh.
"I wonder if you're running yourself into the ground a bit here? You have good friends; lean on them. It doesn't all have to fall on your shoulders," she says gently and with more compassion and clarity than I've ever seen from her before.
I frown.
"How do you know how much I'm taking on?" I can't help but sound skeptical.
She shrugs. "You know as well as I do that I'm not your average old lady."
I smile, because isn't that the truth? There is something other about her, even in the way she speaks.
"Well if you don't need to talk things through with me, ask the questions you came to ask, sweet Maple."
I smile at her, thankfully, and she returns it.
"Is Zaphira a safe place to go?"
"Like anywhere, it has its problems. But if you're asking if it's better than here, I'd say absolutely," she chuckles.
I remind myself to ask more direct questions. Once again, I have little time.
"Is the government drugging us?"
"Yes," she muses.
"Why?"
"You know why," she reprimands.
"The roots you gave me, that was the antidote?"
She smirks this time, "so, it worked for you, then?"
"Do you have more?"
"Yes."
"Will it work indefinitely? Some memories are still hazy, but a lot has become more clear. We ran out of the herb. Is it a permanent fix, or will I start to forget again?"
"You'd slowly lose your memories again, and need more.
Memory is a fickle thing. I'm sure you've realized there's more than one way for your brain to protect itself.
People lose memories for a lot of reasons, and everyone's chemistry is different.
It's why no one's really noticed or cared that the past has become so hazy—that our entire history has become clouded.
Sometimes it's easier to forget. Anyway, I suspect this won't be a problem for you soon enough," she smiles.
I smile back at her this time. Of course she knows we're leaving.
"You could come with us. It would be a rough journey, but I think you're tougher than most, anyway," I offer sincerely.
She laughs at me now.
"That's very sweet of you, but my place is here."
I feel that pinprick of guilt expand when she says this. She's brave enough to stay and see it through. What does that say about me?
I remind myself that she doesn't have anyone depending on her for survival. Would I be brave like her if I didn't have Willow and Linden to think about?
I know there's no arguing with her, and although I wish she would join us, I suspect she'll be just fine here. Somehow.
"Are the missing people being taken through the barrier?"
She frowns, scrunching up her face in thought.
"That, I am not sure about."
I chew my lip. I should've seen that answer coming.
"Do people die when they cross or touch the barrier?"
"Some do, some don't."
"Farra's brother— something happened to him when he touched the barrier. Or maybe he just got too close? Like he lost his mind a little. Do you know why?"
This seems to strike a chord, and Sibs looks pained.
"Poor boy," she mutters with a sad shake of her head.
She's lost in her thoughts for a moment. Whatever she's remembering seems to pull at her in all directions. I can almost see the memories playing out behind her eyes. I give her a minute, before gently placing my hand on her arm, and moving closer to her on the couch.
"Why did he lose his mind, Sibs?"
She takes a deep breath, dipping her head.
"The same reason anything happens, I suppose. For the same reason some people are affected by the herbs more than others. Everyone is made up of a different set of keys..."
I blink at her, trying to untangle the meaning.
"You mean magic? Do some people still have magic that protects them when they pass through?" I search her face, but suddenly she seems weighed down by the conversation.
"That can't be true. No one's wielded around here for decades. Longer, even..." I look back to Sibs, who continues to look pained.
She grabs my arm, holding it tightly, her eyes milky and distant.
"The boy will be ok, once it's righted. Once they're stopped. You'll know what to do, Maple. It's all in here," she reaches out and taps my chest. "Keep close to the fire; it will be your life light. Follow it. Listen."
I soak in her words.
"Farra's brother will be ok? Once it’s righted—what do you mean?"
She purses her lips, and tears form in her eyes. I wonder... if talking this way costs her somehow.
"Sibs... if people have magic... or come from wielder lineages, what happens to them?"
Sibs looks relieved, breathing deeply, and her eyes refocus.
"They get very sick, Maple. Magic needs an outlet. Balance. And everything has a price." She pulls me up by the arm she's still clutching. Back to the infuriating compass on the wall.
"I know. This one is the real one. But what does it all have to do with the barrier and magic? The Gods are doing something again? How much more can we possibly be punished?" I grumble the last bit.
She shakes her head at me.
"This is where humans always get it wrong—assuming things are being done to them, and not by them. If the Gods are what they say they are, don't you think they have better things to do?" she whispers.
I scrunch my face up at the tapestry that's been plaguing my thoughts. I methodically go through the memories of Dad I've recovered over the past weeks.
"Sibs, Aethur is a God... right?"
Sibs gives me a look that can only be described as hopeful. She nods.
"Are there more Gods they tried to erase?"
Again, she gives me that hopeful look, mixed with something like pride.
"Yes," she says, strong and firm.
I suck in a breath.
"What are their names?"
"Her name is Silvanis." Sibs clears her throat, hobbling back to the couch to rest her body.
"Silvanis?" I repeat, rolling the name around my brain. A memory hits me then— sharp, almost painful. Sitting with my dad and a book at our dinette. "The goddess of light..." I whisper.
Sib's teeth show as her smile widens.
"See? I told you it was all there. Yes, the Goddess of Light, Day and Creation.
Aethur's counterpart. Nature and magic consist of balanced dualities, and they were the first examples of this.
Nature demands this balance. Without it.
.." She gestures around us, and I understand; without balance, we're left with this. This world.
"Why did they erase her? Why did they erase them?"
"I suppose, to hide the truth of what they did. Aethur was harder to hide. Our lore is so integrated with the stories of the beyond, and his cycling of souls in the underworld. Silvanis was easier. She's the quieter of the two."
The more I learn, the less it makes sense.
"What happened to her?" I ask, trying to pick my questions carefully.
"I don't know exactly; the details are too murky even for me to see."
"Well, what do you suspect?" I plead.
"I suspect she was bound. By whom, I’m not sure. But I can still feel her... Maple, do you know how wielders came to be?"
I nod, thankful to not be completely in the dark about something.
"Yes, they were the descendants of the Gods, through breeding with humans, we assume. Thousands of years ago the Gods had their way with some regular folk and boom—wielders," I say simply.
"You are correct, but—" She hesitates and I wait, almost begging her to continue, when she surprises me.
"Nature demands balance. Silvanis and Aethur... Think of them as the mother and father of the realm. The very fabric of our existence ties directly to their balance of light and dark. When the humans eventually came to be here, the pair were delighted. They finally had a true purpose––or at least entertainment, I suppose. As time went on, they needed help to maintain the sacred equilibrium. They chose four of the most devout; a divine number to balance and help aid them in the realm’s stability.
These people were bound to our world. Those four new…
Gods, began fathering and mothering their own lines of descendants.
Some, but not all, received gifts through their lineage, and became what we know of today as wielders.
Recognizing the imbalance of some receiving gifts, and others not, Silvanis and Aethur put a stop to it, in an attempt to maintain some sense of fairness, but it was too late. "
My eyes widen.
"The four Gods we know and worship were once just... humans?"
She bobs her head, deliberating.
"No, and yes... they are direct descendants of Silvanis and Aethur’s magic. In a sense, they are their children, just not biologically. They are bound to this realm by them, sworn to keep the balance. And they did, for a time..." She hesitates again, deep in her own thought.
"I don't get it. This all seems... how did things go so wrong? What happened?"
Sibs shakes her head again, pursing her lips.
"Sibs, come on. We're so close. I need to know," I insist.
"I also have a duty, Maple. I have to hold the balance, too. I can only tell you so much without tipping the scales. If I did, I'd be just like them," she replies sadly.
"Just like who?" I ask.
"Just like those who thought they were above the laws of nature."
A thought erupts from my mouth before I can stop it.
"Sibs, what is the barrier made of?"
Sibs shudders.
"Souls, dear… it's made out of souls."