Rox
She stood in the field watching the horizon with wide eyes, mouth agape. The umbrella she had been holding overhead just moments before falls to the ground at her feet. Without a second thought, she grabs a fistful of her skirt and runs toward the plume of purple smoke rising in the sky. Her heart pounds in her chest as she wills her legs to move faster. The smoke looks like it’s coming from the village.
“How did this happen?” she thinks as she runs, “I was so careful.”
The smoke burns her throat and tears sting her eyes as she approaches the edge of the village. She dashes past the sentry shack and turns down the first road. The air is thick with pungent smoke and stains her rain soaked cheeks gray. She passes people without really seeing them, her thoughts focused on only one thing. She hasn’t prayed in years, not since joining the Warren, but she finds her old prayers running through her mind and tumbling off her tongue just the same.
“Rox!” Someone calls her name, breaking her focus momentarily, but she doesn’t stop. She runs past the smithy, past the tanner, toward the school.
“Surely the teachers have gotten everyone to safety,” she thinks to herself as the outline of the old gray building begins to reveal itself through the heavy haze. She can’t tell if the smoke is coming from the building itself or somewhere behind it, but it definitely seems thicker here. When she reaches the old front door she grabs the iron ring and pulls it open. A huge cloud of smoke billows out and fills her lungs, choking her.
“What have I done?” She sputters between coughs. Pulling her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose, she puts her other hand forward desperately seeking anything solid. The smoke is too thick to see but a few inches all around. She knows these halls well, having only been out of school for two years, but somehow the thick smoke has stolen her sense of direction. Clambering down the hall she makes for the year one classroom.
“Ama!” She tries to shout though it sounds muffled through the fabric covering her mouth. “Ama!” Her sisters name seems lost as soon as it hits the smoke, curling up to the ceiling, seeking a way out. Hurling herself through what she thinks is the door to the year one classroom, she finds herself in a room with less smoke, but no people. Her eyes dart around the room as she takes a moment to lean against the closed door and catch her breath.
It’s not the year one classroom, it looks like year three from the encantations she can make out on the wall: the spells are a bit too complex for year ones. “I must have missed a door,” Rox thinks as she pulls her shirt back up over her nose and prepares to go back out into the smoke filled hallway. She stands there for a moment with her hand on the door knob, deciding which way to go. Her eyes fall upon a parchment on the desk in the corner. On it is a picture of a silver ring with a long trailing line.
“Yes!” I hiss as the idea takes root in my mind. “I’ll use an incantation.”
Technically this incantation is meant for lost things, like a toy or bracelet or book, but perhaps it could work for this too. I move toward the window where the air is clearer and try to still my pounding heart and focus my wandering mind. I take a few deep breaths focusing on my sharp, alert inhale and the release of my heavy, relaxing exhale. Within a moment I notice the color behind my eyes is turning a deep indigo and feel ready to start.
I envision in my minds eye a silver circle, made of thick cord, with a long line connected to the center of my chest. I see my sister Ama in the center of the circle and the cord tightening around her, pinning her arms to her side. I then begin to pull the cord toward me, slowly at first to see if it’s working. I can feel resistance pulling against my chest and a flutter of excitement fills my stomach, “I think this will work!”
I continue to slowly pull my sister toward me in my minds eye and begin to repeat out loud, “as the silver circle binds, what was lost my heart now finds.” The resistance in my chest increases as I continue to slowly pull her towards me. I’m trying to focus on the vision and the incantation, but the smoke is getting thicker in the classroom and it’s getting harder to breathe. It’s breaking my concentration and I watch as the silver cord starts to slip farther away, and my sister with it. The tension in my chest is releasing too, and I know I’m losing it. Spellbinding only works with singular focus, concentrated vision, and consistent chanting (some even require a specific pitch or lilt when repeated.) If any of those things are out of balance, the consequences could be terrible.
I’m frustrated because at this point, I can do some spells in my sleep. I mean that quite literally, as I had been woken up more than once to the wind bursting through my windows and tearing through the room like a tornado, because I had summoned it in my sleep. It seems I could do more damage without even thinking than I had realized. This fire was my fault; I was the reason Ama was in danger. All because I had snuck out of the village to try and burn that memory from my mind.
I really had only been trying to burn the memory away, nothing more. I hadn’t realized when my focus slipped and my vision shifted, even for just a moment, that I could cause something like this to happen. Instead of burning the memory, I seem to have burned my village. Blinking away these thoughts, I immediately realize that I have to get to a place where I can focus on the spell and on finding Ama. I quickly resolve to head back outside toward the surrounding woods.
Hitching my shirt back over my nose, I open the door and run out into the hallway and head back the way I came. It would be the shortest way out. Once out the front door, I immediately make for the woods just a few rounds over. My breath is ragged and I’m coughing through the still thick smoke. Passing houses, carts, and horses hitched to fence posts, I quickly find myself at the edge of the rounds and at the foot of the forest.
I dive head first down the path and make for one my favorite spots. My true favorite is much deeper within the trees, but I don’t have time to waste so I make for a closer haunt. It take me a moment to realize the smoke hasn’t breached the trees and I am breathing fresh air again. It’s a relief to my ash sodden lungs and raw throat. My eyes are blurry with tears, but I don’t dare wipe them for fear of rubbing ash into my eyes. Blinking them away, I see the tell tale spruce tree with the darkest green needles I’ve ever seen and know I’m close.
Dashing into the hollow of a nearby tree, I quickly fold my legs, straighten my back and take a deep breath. My mind is racing, but I’m able to quickly push all the noise to the background and ground myself in the smell of the spruce and pine trees around me, the loamy earthiness of the forest floor, and the symphony of sounds in and around the trees. It’s familiar, comforting, and easy to settle down in.
The indigo swirls behind my eyes and I bring the silver cord back into mind. Reaching out from the center of my chest, it encircles my sister and I mentally tighten the cord around her arms. I give the cord a gentle tug and feel the tightness in my chest. **“As the silver circle binds, what was lost my heart now finds… as the silver circle binds, what was lost my heart now finds…” **
**I’m chanting, I’m focused, the vision is clear. Ama is moving closer and closer. When she gets close enough, I reach out my hand to touch her and watch as the vision fades away. Still as can be, I wait for the flash. When it comes, a bright white light bursts behind my eyelids. As the fireball clears, I see Ana again, this time she is curled up in her bed, covered in soot, crying with her head in hands. **
It worked! The spell had worked! It had shown me where Ama was and she was safe at home. I jumped up and raced out of the forest, relief flooding down my body like the rain with each step. I’m smiling and crying and still coughing up ash as I reach the forest edge and head into the rounds.
Our little house is toward the back of the village and there is a well worn short cut that my feet automatically follow. The roiling sick in my stomach won’t subside until I see her face and feel her in my arms. She’s all I have and even the thought of losing her has my dry heaving as I weave through the village. The smoke is still thick, but I’m nearing the house.
**As I run up the path I see the door is slightly ajar and burst in. “Ama!” I shout as I take the final steps into the room we both share. She bolts upright, covered in soot with tears streaking down her cheeks. She is sobbing as I gather her small body into my arms and pull her into my chest. **
**“Are you ok? Are you hurt? I’m so sorry, Ama. I don’t even know what happened.” I’m blubbering and the words are tumbling out of my mouth too fast to catch. I push her out to arms length to better take in her face and look for injuries. **
Her whole body is shaking as she continues to cry, but she looks ok in the surface. I stroke her face and hair and try to soothe her enough to speak.
**“Are you ok?” I ask again when the shaking subsides to less frequent twinges. **
“Yes, I’m ok. I’m not hurt. I was just so scared when I couldn’t find you. I thought you were dead,” she says with hitched breath.
**“I’m not dead. I’m ok too and I’m right here,” I console her. “Do we know what caught fire?” **
The sobs wrack her tiny body again so I pull her close and hold her tight. I’m rocking her slightly when she finally grips my arm, looks me straight in the eye and breathes, “the church, Rox. The church burned.”
**I go still as a statue, my mouth drops, and my arms go slack. I immediately turn away from Ama and wretch on the floor. I had burned the church. My fathers church. The last place I had seen him alive. **