33. Esther
ESTHER
Every time I reopened my eyes throughout the night, Blaze was still watching me. It brought me comfort, holding his hand as I tried my hardest to sleep. My mind kept going back to the argument I had with Regent.
Music, voices, and cheer surrounded us throughout the night, and I desperately wanted to know what all the commotion was about. It felt warm and of wonder, perhaps reminding me of my time in Caldom Kingdom that I’d taken for granted.
Grimace sleeps belly up on Blaze’s lap, a subtle snooze rolling through him. A small sizzling noise starts, a red dust rising around the bed. I lean over, staring at the floor as the blood markings begin to disappear, and meet Blaze’s gaze, a sigh of relief passing through me that I’m free.
I push away the fur pelt blanket and wince from the pain radiating up my left side, but it’s manageable.
The moment my feet touch the earth, I sense the magic of the circle fall away.
Blaze immediately turns his head, and I can’t help but smile.
“Come now, it’s not like you haven’t seen my body before. ”
“It’s good to see you still have no shame,” Blaze says, and I’m comforted by the old game we used to play. But now it feels like only a distant memory, and where I might’ve once wanted him to act on it, I’m not so sure anymore. “I’ll wait outside.”
Grimace jumps onto the workbench, scattering items. I pick up the handheld mirror and look over my body.
I lost more weight, my ribs noticeable, my face gaunt.
My stomach is bandaged and tender to touch, and I imagine there’s colorful bruising beneath.
I put on the light-green loose shirt that comes to my midsection with a matching free-flowing skirt.
I collect a small brown ribbon and quickly braid my hair, letting it fall over one shoulder.
I pick up the hairpin Selena gave me, admiring the winged edge.
Placing it into my hair, I decide that no matter what happens going forward, I’ll heal, become stronger, and face Dahlia head-on.
She must be held accountable for everything she’s taken from me personally, for what she did to Blaze, and for the rot she is spreading in Master Kain’s kingdom.
For him, I want to watch the kingdom prosper. For him, it deserves to thrive.
I might not be equipped to rule it, but I will certainly do everything I can to liberate his people and to set his worries free. He deserves at least that.
I lean over, tying my boots and strapping the belt at my hip with Blaze’s blade. I wonder if he is really okay with me keeping this? Especially now, I don’t feel so defenseless with the power of water running through my veins.
My eyes adjust to the orange hue of the sun rising over the grand mountains. Blaze waits for me, his hands clasped together in front of him, shoulders back, standing tall, much like the soldier he’s always been.
Black fur catches my attention, and I freeze in place as the feline-like beast, looking more like a domesticated cat, comes to sit in front of me expectantly.
It’s the size of Regent’s mare, with yellow slitted eyes, its head easily three times the size of my own.
Wisdom swirls in its gaze, mirroring the spirit greer who assisted me the night before.
“They’re called feelopes,” Blaze educates as the beast casually begins licking the back of its paw.
“You’re not scared of me,” I say. My invisible chains inquire around it, musing with the peaceful gentleness of its nature and magic. Its presence isn’t overpowering, yet it holds a quiet wisdom.
Its tail flickers back and forth, a jingle sounding as I realize it has various golden bangles suspended in the air around the tip of its tail.
I’m drawn to the feelope. Curious if it’ll let me touch it.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” a woman says, walking over, hips swaying that offer light jolts of the gold belt hanging around her skirt.
I immediately retract my hand. The woman is beautiful, the golden honeycomb of her skin shining a light orange under the sun’s glow.
“Our feelopes are known to be temperamental, especially to outsiders.”
“Temperamental?”
“Aren’t most females the first thing in the morning? This one here is Lovealots.”
“Lovealots?” Blaze says dryly with arms folded.
“They choose their own name. If I were you, boy, I’d be cautious how you speak around them. They tend to hold a grudge.”
The feelope leers at him, and Blaze dips his head in apology.
A young girl and boy, no older than eight, run around the tent, attempting their best to skid to a halt under the gravelly dirt when they spot the woman with hands on her hips disapprovingly.
“Sorry, Imogine,” they say in unison, bowing to her respectfully. The two, who I’m assuming to be twins, then peek through thick golden eyelashes at Blaze and myself curiously.
“I believe you two have chores to get to. Wouldn’t want to wait any longer, would you? The workload might suddenly double.” She arches a suggestive eyebrow, and both their heads whip up, their backs straightening.
“Yes, Imogine,” they say in unison and grab one another’s hands as they skip through the rows of tents.
The little boy reaches out to another feelope, running his hand through the fur of the beast’s underbelly.
It gives them a sound of warning, but watches after them as they take a left and disappear behind another tent.
“This is Imogine, the matriarch’s daughter,” Blaze introduces, nodding to her respectfully. “She was also the one who freed me from Dahlia’s enchantment.”
Imogine’s eyes shift from him to me, her gaze less gentle as she scans me from head to toe. I’ve seen enough of those looks to know when I’m not welcome.
“How are you feeling? My mother’s blood circle only just came to a close, but you don’t look like you should be walking yet?”
“Alive. Thankful,” I answer. Despite that this spirit greer dislikes me, I am indebted to her mother; which is why I’ll refrain from making a scene, even when her stare becomes more blatant. “I’m Esther, by the way.”
“I know who you are.” She stares not at me, but through me.
My stomach squirms with the absolute understanding that she knows exactly who and what I am.
She looks me up and down once more and then moves to Blaze as she says, “Well, we don’t host for free, the least you can do is make yourselves busy.
Our people work as soon as dawn breaks.”
The feelope lazily walks to her side, yawning, sharp canines on display.
Imogine places the weaved basket on her hip, walking among the multiple tents pitched as other honeycomb-skinned people appear.
Some have subtle spirit magic around them; others are not magic-blessed at all.
What I find peculiar is that those who have magic are all women.
As we walk behind Imogine, every member stops what they’re doing to blatantly stare at Blaze and me. One child even points, asking their mother what we are.
A feelope approaches as a young boy runs underneath its legs. The beast seems unfazed as it comes to a stop in front of me. Imogine pauses as well, watching the beast carefully.
The boy stumbles into the back of the cat’s front leg, almost falling backward. I hold my hand out to reach for the boy but think better of it, since the beast may not take a liking to me approaching it so swiftly. But it does not move as the boy falls onto his bottom.
“Sorry, miss,” the boy says quickly, standing and bowing to me, different from the cold treatment of the others. “This is Biscuit.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the slit-eyed beast who holds wisdom that far exceeds one lifetime.
It’s strange the way the beast watches me, cautiously yet expectantly, unlike most creatures.
The flutter of hope that lives within my core perks up.
The small part of me that is only still a little girl wants to reach out and touch the softness of the cute creature, which I’m certain would be offended if it knew I viewed it in such a way.
The boy reaches out and grabs my hand, oblivious to the adults’ cautious hostility. “You can pat Biscuit if you want,” he offers, tugging me toward the beast.
I look up at Imogine, who seems wary but says, “If this feelope is curious, then I will not interfere.”
The feelope sits, stretching to its full height and glaring down, intimidating in its size.
“You can pat her neck. She likes scratches under her chin and ear,” the boy says, pointing toward her closed jaw.
I follow the boy’s instruction, guiding my hand up to barely reach her jaw, but when I do, the beast closes her eyes, a low purr vibrating through my hand. An immediate elation hits me, my inner child coming to the surface.
Suddenly, I’m sucked into a swirl of nothingness.
“Esther, how did you get so high?” my mother’s voice calls. “Stop climbing trees without us. What if you were to fall?” I can only see her outstretched hands, but never her face, which is faded out by the strong sunlight.
“As if any daughter of mine would be conquered by a mere fall,” my father says with brute force, his rough hand gently coming to lay on her shoulder.
A dust cloud swirls, and I’m jerked into a memory only months after Blaze had first arrived, sobbing over a scraped knee.
“It’s okay. It wasn’t a big fall,” I say as I wipe away the singular tear that seems to escape him. “Next time we’ll just make sure the tree isn’t as big,” I promise.
Another black swirl.
“Run,” Master Kain whispers.
Another nauseating swirl.
“Esther, where are you?” Selena prays beside her bed. “She’s coming for you.”
“They all are,” an unfamiliar voice says.
“I’ll protect you.” Regent’s voice.
“He can’t be trusted.” Blaze’s voice.
“They’ll all die,” the Fates voices say in unison.
I pull back my hand, the slitted gaze of the feelope staring down at me.
“Esther?” Blaze’s hand is on my shoulder. Did he pull me back?
“Did Biscuit show you something?” the young boy says with a smile, one tooth missing.