Fissure

The forest seemed to have gone on far longer than when they first made the trip. Frewin was growing tired quickly, exhaustion making his body heavy and sore. His legs felt sluggish, each step seemed to take hours. He was growing tired, breathing was beginning to feel like a chore.

“Can we take a small break? I believe not sleeping last night is starting to catch up to me.” Frewin asked her as he leaned against one of the trees for support. The forest was beginning to sway. A cold sweat broke out along his forehead.

“What are you talking about? We haven’t been traveling long enough to warrant a break.” Ambrosine said over her shoulder, still walking on.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” he pushed himself off the tree and took a step. His balance felt weak. The forest was spinning faster. The ground beneath his feet felt as if it were kicking back at him. He only managed a couple of steps before collapsing to his knees and then facing down on the ground.

Ambrosine merely turned to look at him. His breathing was becoming ragged, a slight wheezing could be heard. She walked back over to him and knelt, placing a hand on his forehead.

“You’re a little warm. Maybe we should take a break.” She muttered, helping to prop his back against the tree. She took a cloth out of her side pouch to wipe away the sweat that was steadily collecting along his brow. She chewed at her lip as she debated her options.

“We could continue the way back to my home after letting you rest a little longer, although it’d take about another day to make it back, especially in your state. Or, as much as I do not like this option, we could backtrack and see if that witch has a way to help you. I’d prefer to just allow you to rest and head home but if you continue to worsen it may be in our best interest to swallow pride and ask for assistance.” the disdain was clear in her tone.

Frewin waved a hand, “I’ll be fine in a bit. I’d rather not bother her any more than we currently already have.”

She gave him a hard look as she stood herself back up, brushed her hands off on the sides of her cloak, and threw her hair over her shoulder. “Alright. You can stay here and I’ll go back and ask her myself. You’ll be fine here, right? It shouldn’t take me too long, at least I should be back by night.”

He leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, “Fine, just don’t cause her too much trouble.”

Ambrosine fought hard against the urge to roll her eyes sarcastically. She would cause her trouble? If anything, the witch had been the one causing the two of them the most trouble. Had she allowed them to stay longer rather than rushing them out so fast, he probably wouldn’t be in this state and they’d be close to home by now. Instead, she gave him a stiff nod and made sure he was comfortable before returning to Acidalia.

~

Without Frewin to fill the silence with constant questions about the surroundings, her mind drifted back to his numerous inquiries. What kind of flower is that? Is that tree poisonous? What sort of animals are native? On and on he’d go, question after question. He’d ask so many he’d start tripping over himself to get another question out. Once he’d get his fill of answers about their journey, he’d circle back around to questions about her. He’d ask about what she liked? She didn’t know. He’d ask what she didn’t like? She didn’t know. Did she have a family? She wasn’t sure. It gave her a cold chill to realize how much of a shell she really was. She could come up with arbitrary things she liked or didn’t like. She liked cold mornings, milk in her tea, and earthen smells. She didn’t like cinnamon and the sound of crunching gravel. She had nothing definitive or concrete.

Empty.

Ambrosine pushed the thoughts aside as she stepped into the town, the faint, powdery scent of the memory moons hung in the air. Broken glass crunched beneath her boots. The place was eerily quiet and barren. The memory moons livened it up considerably, even if the people were no longer around. She almost missed that illusion. Or, at the most, Frewin. She found it funny how attached she suddenly felt without his presence around. She pushed that aside, too. There was no point to sentimentality if he was going to leave to somewhere else once he was healed and out of her care. It was almost a relief. It almost hurt.

She found Magnolia House rather quickly. The outside badly in need of repair. The flower bed dirt was rock hard and the stairs had nails sticking out of the wood at odd angles. Repair work for another time. She pushed open the doors and re-entered the parlor room, it was just as dark as they had left it.

“Witch! Hello? Are you in here? I need you.” Ambrosine called out, inspecting the seating area then behind the check-in only to find no one there. Mild irritation was beginning to rise in her chest. She didn’t have time for some silly hide and seek game. She wanted to go home. She was tired, she stunk, and she was sick of being in this dumpy town.

“C’mon, I’m sick of-“

“I’m right here.” standing in the doorway was Rhyannon, her arm folded across her chest and her eyes staring hard at Ambrosine. She stared at her as though she was looking down at an insect, a disgusting, invasive cretin that was better under her shoe than standing in front of her. She had no right standing in her home. She had invaded her space, taken supplies that were her’s, she was the cretin and Rhyannon’s expressions made sure she knew that.

It pissed her off. Everything about her irritated her immensely, from the smug superiority she tried to pass off to the way she constantly degraded her. She had done nothing to deserve being treated as lesser, so why? Why did she constantly do this? Ambrosine wasn’t sure, wasn’t about to bother with it either. She wouldn’t give her an answer so it was pointless. Besides, she wasn’t here for herself, she was here to get help for Frewin.

Ambrosine turned toward her, patted out a few wrinkles from her skirt, and stuck a hand out towards Rhyannon. She hoped that would bring about some sort of civility, but Rhyannon just stared at her hand. Her expression still remained as though she was staring down a bug. It still did nothing but piss her off.

“Listen, can we put whatever issue you might have with me aside and just-“

“Whatever issue I might have?” Rhyannon interrupted, her arms unfolding to grip the door frame.

“I don’t know why you-“

“Oh, you don’t know? Little Miss Omnipresent Knowledge suddenly doesn’t know? What? Unable to dig for info when you don’t have my books in your filthy hands?” She closed the gap between them, her dark eyes boring down into Ambrosine, “half of what you knew wasn’t even in that book.”

“That doesn’t even matter right now!” Ambrosine yelled, taking a few steps back. She was nervous that further prodding would cause her to explode. She could see herself wrapping her hands around Rhyannon’s neck and squeezing until her dark eyes went glossy. She wanted nothing more than to watch her flail and claw and cling to the life Ambrosine was so easily stealing. She pushed that aside.

“It’s Frewin.” Ambrosine saw her demeanor change just slightly. “He’s um…sick, I suppose. He had a fever and was really sweaty. Said he was feeling dizzy and he could barely walk.”

“Where is he? Is he in town?” Rhyannon went to the counter and dug around in a box underneath.

“No. I left him just outside Acidalia, by a tree in the forest.”

“You…left him? Just how stupid are you? How little sense do you have to just leave someone afflicted alone?” she chastised, pulling out a large leather-bound book.

“Afflicted?”

“I’ll explain on the way, just take me to him. Don’t dawdle too much, stupid beast.” Rhyannon shoved several dried herbs and flowers into the pockets of her apron, and the book was held tightly to her chest.

Ambrosine ignored the anger Rhyannon evoked and waited outside the manor, giving her nothing more than a passive glance when she finally rejoined her.

~

“Afflicted refers to the sickness caused by the dragon’s miasma. Acidalia is governed by the dragon of rot, Levnyth. Though, I’m sure you’re already aware of that. You don’t seem to be suffering so I assume you know enough to ward yourself against it. I’m not sure why you didn’t do the same for your companion.” Rhyannon remarked as they found the path back to Frewin.

“Ward? No, we did no such thing. I’ve been here a few times prior and never had issues. I just assumed it was from him not fully recovering from his injury.” Ambrosine shrugged and then turned when she heard her footsteps fall silent.

Rhyannon stared at her with an indignant, disgusted look. “How are you..? No, forget it. I don’t particularly care at the moment.”

Ambrosine didn’t reply, she wanted this over just as much as Rhyannon did. She wanted to be back home in her cottage, she wanted a bath. She was soon thinking she was growing used to the smell of stagnant water when another, much stronger smell took her by surprise. Something nearby was decaying, the smell was thick and heavy. The two women covered their noses with a handkerchief and cleared the brush separating them from where Frewin was left.

Over him stood a gangly mass, bones poking through its rotting skin, oozing pustules decorated the areas that weren’t decaying and barely clinging to what was left of its flesh. Its wings were tattered. It lifted and pointed its bleached skull face towards the two women, what was left of its only eye was milky and glazed over. It refused to move from its spot but opened its jagged toothed jaw as if it were going to speak. No words came from the beast, but each woman could feel them in their minds- a sickly rattle that scraped against their skulls, the words barely above a hoarse whisper.

What do you want.

It didn’t ask them, it demanded to know.

“Levnyth, we seek to help the boy at your feet,” Rhyannon spoke.

Levnyth turned their attention back to Frewin, his breathing was notably more ragged and a sheen of sweat had broken out again, and his shirt was soaked and clung to his frame. The dragon gave him a passive once over, whether or not it truly saw anything was unknown.

He won’t survive long in his state. Perhaps you should allow him to perish, he has another’s scent upon him. It is clear he was not meant for living long.

Levnyth returned their attention to Rhyannon before passing by the two to disappear back into trees, a thick blanket of fog taking the place the dragon previously occupied. Rhyannon wasted no time in rushing to Frewin’s side and unpacking the contents of her pockets.

“Instead of standing around and being useless, take the pestle and make a fine powder, please,” Rhyannon demanded, her hands already busy with stringing a crystal.

Ambrosine took to the mortar without complaint and began working the contents.

“Once you’re finished, take the flask and pour the water in and try to get him to drink. Be careful to not spill too much or have him choke.” She ordered as she tied the string and crystal against his wrist.

“What’s the point of that?” Ambrosine questioned

“Warding. As long as it’s against a pulse point he should be fine until you two leave town.” Rhyannon pulled up a sleeve to reveal a match. “I’d offer you one but you seem…fine.”

Ambrosine gave a small nod as she tipped the contents of the flask into the bowl and gave it one final stir before pushing it back into Rhyannon’s hands.

“After this, the sweating should ease up and his breathing should go back to normal. I’ll need your help to take him back to my place.” She tipped his chin up and slowly poured the liquid into his mouth.

“We were going home.”

“Not in his current state you aren’t. He’ll be safer where I can keep an eye on him until he recovers.”

“Just because he reminds you of your runaway son does not mean you get to take over. You had your chance to play mother.”

Rhyannon sat the bowl in her lap and began gathering up her items. Once she finished, she looped one of his arms across her shoulders and stood up the best she could.

“You can continue your remarks later. If you give half a care about your pet, you’ll help me carry him back. If you don’t then you can go back to your hole. Either way, I’m taking him back and I’m going to make sure he recovers with or without you.”

Ambrosine merely gave a frustrated sigh and gathered up their belongings and the box of mushrooms.

“Fine. We leave immediately after. I hope you have a bath.”

Rhyannon looked back over her shoulder, “I do but I highly doubt it’ll help you any.”