Chapter 4
Mistakes of the Past
Alissa walked to Freyah’s to pick Dhalia up with her notebook in hand.
An orange, pinkish sunset was already replacing daylight, the moon still shy in the sky.
She read and reread all of Mr. Hamit’s answers, as if reading her notes would magically turn them into the answer she needed to save her child.
None of them was exactly that, but three of them intrigued her.
The first one was the mention of a dream featuring a princess. Could it have been only a coincidence that Dhalia, only one day after being marked by this known evil, would also have such a dream? Then, the fact that he believed that never before had a child been a victim of Senectus Subita.
And lastly, but most importantly, was his mention of a supposed sacred location—one that held the answers to life’s deepest secrets.
From the moment she’d first heard of this place, her thoughts were drawn there.
No matter how hard she tried to focus on other things, her mind kept circling back to the canyons.
They could be another myth, one of the countless stories the people of Bryniard loved to spread about the world beyond, but the more Alissa dwelt on it, the less it felt like mere speculation.
For a moment, she considered the absurdity of it all. How could she truly consider leaving Bryniard, in search of a place she didn’t know if it was real? How could she risk missing out on Dhalia’s last living moments based solely on the word of a man and her own intuition?
Leaving was the last thing Alissa wanted to do, but she knew deep in her heart that the cure could not be found in Bryniard.
If it could, hundreds of people wouldn’t have lost their lives to this illness.
When faced with the certainty of her daughter’s death if she stayed and the possibility of her salvation if she left, she had no doubt in her mind—this was where she needed to begin her search.
The realization of what she was about to do hit her at once. A knot formed in her throat, and goosebumps ran freely along her arms and legs when the memories of the worst night of her life rushed back, like a punch to her stomach.
Alissa knocked on the dark wooden door, summoning Freyah on the other side.
Her long red waves were splayed along her shoulders and chest, and the sweat on her forehead and neck caused the wild strands to stick against her skin.
Her apron was stained with sauce and beverages, and the strong smell of ale was another sign of a day of hard work at her family’s tavern.
Her hazel right eye surveyed Alissa from head to toe with concern; the left was hidden under a white eyepatch, a sunflower drawn where her eye should have been.
Every time Alissa saw Freyah, she wore a different eyepatch.
She had a collection of those with various designs and colors.
She had worn them since she lost sight in her left eye due to a wild boar attack when she was sixteen.
Alissa was the one to find her best friend in the woods, the enormous animal on top of her, about to shred her to pieces.
Alissa quickly shot the boar in the head with an arrow.
Not fast enough was all she ever thought when glancing at her friend’s eyepatch and the huge scar that crossed the left side of her face. The guilt still chased her.
“Did you finally decide to apologize?” Freyah asked.
Alissa rolled her eyes. “I’m here to pick Dhalia up.”
Freyah’s smirk was gone as soon as she noticed the anxiety rushing through Alissa, evident in the tapping of her feet and the biting of her nails. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, why do you ask?”
“You look… weird.” She looked down as Alissa shifted her weight on her heels. “What are you planning?” Freyah asked, like she could read her friend’s mind from the way she stood there.
Alissa could only wonder which of her actions had given away her intentions. “I’m not planning anything,” she emphasized, but her eyes shot upward like she couldn’t look her friend in the eyes when she lied.
Alissa watched her dubious friend lean against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest. Alissa knew she wouldn’t be able to fool Freyah, not her best friend, the only true friend she’d ever had.
The palms of her hands dampened in sweat.
She didn’t want to tell her she needed to escape the walls because she knew what her friend would think; still, she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out as soon as given the chance.
Keeping this secret to herself was physically impossible.
“I’m crossing the wall,” she stated, her apprehensive glance waiting for Freyah’s reaction.
Freyah closed her eyes, holding the bridge of her nose and drawing a deep breath. “Not this again, Alissa. Please.”
She knew her friend was going to say that, and not without reason.
When they were children, Alissa was fascinated by what lay on the other side of the circular walls that held Bryniard in its center.
Every day, she would come up with miraculous plans trying to cross the great stone walls, even though she knew the consequences for attempting to leave the city could be fatal.
Plans that would often get them both into trouble, plans that were created by a curious, adventurous little girl who never thought of what she would do if she succeeded.
Like crossing the wall was the only challenge she needed to accomplish to satisfy her curiosity.
Luckily, they never managed to cross the walls.
“You can’t be serious, Alissa. I thought you had finally let that go after what happened.”
Freyah’s words brought instant tears to Alissa’s eyes.
She blinked to fight them back and regain her focus, but her mind went back to that day.
The emotions rushed back, strong as a river’s stream.
She remembered it all so vividly. The light of the candles illuminating the cabin’s living room, her father gently kneeling in front of her so their eyes were level, the scent of coconut and berries wafting from the dessert they had prepared together, and the full moon gracing the sky.
“I’ll be back soon,” he’d said in his rough voice.
Alissa wasn’t worried about that at first, not until she glanced at her mother and saw her tears. She was crying, but she didn’t look sad; she looked furious.
“You don’t have to do this. It’s too dangerous,” her mother had whispered, her hands on her waist, waiting for her husband to change his mind.
Alissa saw her father hold her mother by the hand while they moved to the bedroom to speak in private.
She tried to peek through the keyhole, but they were both whispering.
From the seriousness in her father’s voice and her mother’s bloodshot eyes, she realized whatever it was they were hiding from her, it was serious.
Her father kissed both her and her mother on the forehead and left their home carrying nothing but a dagger, his bow, and a quiver of arrows.
Alissa, reckless and stubborn as she was, waited for her mother to surrender to sleep on their small, uncomfortable couch and secretly escaped the cabin to follow her father.
She knew how to be stealthy. Keeping her footsteps light but quick, she kept a trail of Mr. Kriegen’s movements, hiding behind every tree and construction as they walked west to the edges of Bryniard, where the darkest end of the wall was located.
She could barely see her father through the shadows of the night, but she noticed two other people accompanied him on his journey: a middle-aged man and a teenage boy.
Alissa watched, confused, her eyes narrowed to discern the images better.
A gasp escaped her lips when, a couple of minutes later, she saw her father start climbing the wall, his companions right behind him.
Their hands gripped the rock’s dents and fissures, while their legs supported the weight as they climbed up.
Her mind raced, and her heart almost came out of her chest at every stumble her father made on his way up the wall.
She wanted to scream, beg him to come back, to come home with her.
But she couldn’t. No one had ever left the walls of Bryniard, not because there was a rule against that but because it was known that crossing them would certainly kill the fools who dared try.
Minutes felt like hours, but the three of them crossed to the other side.
Alissa rushed closer to the wall, her ear against the cool rock, craving any sign of a safe landing.
Neither Mr. Kriegen nor those accompanying him could have known that the stone on the other side of the wall was smoother, polished in a way that made it impossible to climb.
The sound of their abrupt landing startled the girl in a way most could only dream of.
The height at which they lost their grip had to be tremendous; the chances of them surviving the fall were already slim.
Imagine her relief when Alissa heard her father’s swearing and groans of pain muffled behind inches of thick stone.
Sadly for the young girl, her relief lasted but a breath because a moment later came the screams, the sound of steel against steel, and then steel against flesh.
Rushed steps, rapid breaths, bodies falling to the ground, and then…
complete silence. Her heart raced, and her lungs struggled to breathe.
Still, she waited in that same spot against the huge wall for hours, her legs trembling, hoping her father would come back to her.
When dawn finally came, she accepted he was gone.
Forever.