I didn't know how long I was asleep. I only started to wake when I somehow sensed that the air had shifted. The winds had started to grow unbearably louder, whipping past us so hard my eyes were flashed open by force. It feels as if we were falling. Fear gripping my throat when I was suddenly reminded of where I am.
I fought to keep myself from screaming, but I can't. I clutched him tighter, shutting my eyes. Something tells me that I've always hated this part.
"You're awake," he shouted through the winds, his tone casual.
"I was hoping that you'd stay asleep until we'd arrive," he had the audacity to add.
"We're almost there," he continued, "hang on tight."
You didn't have to tell me twice, I wanted to say but I can't seem to bring my mouth to open.
He barely finished his sentence when Vala lurched beneath us. It felt like the ground had vanished under my seat. Though his strong grip had kept me anchored, a scream tore from my throat as we plunged. My guts threatening to surged up into my throat.
The descent tore the breath away from my lungs, the wind screaming like a storm hellbent on drowning us. Only when the chaos gave way to a haunting stillness did I dare to open my eyes. We are approaching one of the towers of a large, brooding castle perched on a rocky hill, its foundations clawing into the stones above a dark, still lake.
The towers loomed like sentinels, grim and unblinking, surrounding the stronghold like a warning to any who dared to come near. Each tower rising higher than the last as if locked in an endless competition for dominance. I watched with awe as we fly through them all only to reach the highest one in the middle.
Vala flapped her majestic wings, slowing down our landing.
There is that unmistakable dip at the base of my spine, making me feel like my body had forgotten which way was down. I braved myself to look down to find her already stretching her legs as we approach the ground.
She gently landed on the large balcony, lowering herself as soon as she touched the ground.
He leaned down to caress her dark red scales, thanking her before effortlessly stepping down, carrying me with him. How he had managed to find all the strength to do this, I would never know. He carried me as if I weigh nothing to greet the three figures standing there.
"Welcome back," the man drawled, looking like a younger, more mischievous version of him with his dark, tousled hair and tan skin. The man is wearing a black jacket over a white shirt, both his hands at his back as he dip his head, bowing a little when we approach.
"I'm glad you both are safe, it was a mistake to doubt your intuition, brother," he said. His brother. That explains his looks.
"I haven't forgiven you yet, Alistair," he warned, sounding every inch like the leader he is, walking past him and into the opened door.
"What about you, sister-in-law?" Alistair followed us, starting to sound helpless. "Will you forgive me? Surely if you do, my brother would be much more inclined to release me from my suffering?"
'What would you know of suffering?' I wanted to say but decided to keep my mouth shut. I don't know him yet, and I'm not sure if I can trust him enough to tell him that I've lost all my memories.
We both practically ignored him as my so-called husband placed me gently on the large, four-poster bed.
Still keeping his cape wrapped tight around me, he took a seat on the edge of the bed to loosen it a little when the other two figures approached us. Two women stand there dressed in identical dark red robes. One is holding a large brown leather bag while the other, the more senior one I presume, stands there with her head bowed waiting to be addressed.
"Tend to her, make sure she has everything she needs and more." he commanded, even though his eyes were still on me, taking in all my visible injuries.
His hand caressing my cheek lovingly, his eyes softening with sympathy. I have to fight the urge to lean into his touch, blaming it on being touch-deprived for so long.
"They're healers and they're here to help you. I have some things to tend to and I'll be back soon." he said, pressing his lips to my temple before tearing himself away.
Soon as he turns to his brother, I watch as his demeanor changed. "The only reason you're here and not rotting in the dungeon, is because you're my little brother. So don't mistake my mercy for kindness."
"Brother...Vesper..." he called out when his brother passed by him, looking truly helpless. I can't help but feel sorry for him. "I'm sorry, truly."
"In my office." he bit out.
Alistair trailed after him like a lost puppy, casting me an apologetic look before shutting the door behind him. His name is Vesper. I mouth it silently, the sound oddly familiar and yet, fitting. Relief blooms in my chest. Vesper. It suits him.
How could I forget? Didn't he just tell me moments ago? It's starting to feel like my mind is reluctant to remember him.
The healers finally approach the bed now that the men are gone. They curtsied before me as I clutch Vesper's cape.
"Welcome home, Your Grace." the older one greeted me. "I'm Tilda, and this is my daughter, Jane," she gestured to the one holding the brown bag. "We're healers and we're here to help you. Would you be so kind, Your Grace, to lay on the bed for us, so we can address your wounds?"
I nod with acceptance, biting my bottom lip and bracing myself for the pain as I pull myself lower into the bed. I only manage to relax once my back is fully lying on the mattress, with only a dull ache coating my wounds. Even though it would've been hours ago, I still remember what the pain was like and I would give everything not to experience that, ever agin.
"Nadine had given Your Grace something to dull the pain," Jane shared, noticing how confused I feel. "If you don't mind, we'll untie the knot and cut up what remains of the dress."
I nod once more, giving them the permission to have free rein. I drift my eyes on the dark blue canopy above this four-poster bed, feeling the tears starting to gather into my eyes.
Never will I see the ceiling of that prison cell, ever again. I've made it out, I'm safe, for now. Someone had actually found me, the man with the voice who haunted my dreams.
It's like something had cracked within me. My chest tightened without warning. I suddenly couldn't breathe right. My body had forgotten how to function, with the way my throat closed around the air that I tried to swallow.
Everything came back to me like an avalanche, the way I had woken up in the dark, screaming and crying for help. How I had crawled through the floors as the pain in my abdomen grew unbearable, how my throat turned hoarse from all the screaming. How I had wished to die.
A single tear slid down my cheek , then another and another and before I knew it, I was already sobbing. Ugly, disgusting sobs that clawed its way out of my throat before I could stop them. My body started to tremble from all the adrenaline that's seeping out of me, forcing me to deal with the harsh truth.
"Would you rather we put you to sleep while we tend to your wounds, Your Grace?" I heard one of them ask, her voice gentle. She reminded me of my mother. If I ever had a mother, it would sound like her, I believe.
"Yes," I choked out between sobs, trying to hold it all in but I couldn't. The avalanche of emotion was crashing over me and I was drowning in it. "Please...please..."
"Breathe, Your Grace," someone said gently, lifting me as something warm flowed between my lips. "Just breathe..."
Those were the last words I heard before I felt my eyes roll back. It feels like free-falling into the darkness and I let it take me. At least here, in the quiet darkness, the pain couldn't reach me.
Placing my basket next to my feet, I crouched down and saw whether it's truly the plant I was looking for, or if I'm being deceived, again. I'm not much of a plant expert nor a healer, but I know my fair share of them, having been raised around a group of healers ever since I can remember. I finger its white petals, inspecting its yellow center. To anyone they might've looked like daisies, but daisies aren't what I was looking for.
"Iris! Iris!" Mother Tilda called out to me.
That's what we call her. Mother Tilda. She's the eldest and most senior member of our clan, sort of like the 'mother' to us all. She has a daughter though, Jane, whom I've always considered my little sister. I've taken care of her since she was a child, especially when Mother Tilda had to go on work trips.
"I'm right here, Mother!" I called out, feeling guilty now that I have left her to search for me these past few minutes. She must be worried sick.
"Iris, what did I say about running off? You never know what might be lurking in these woods," she scolded, just as I leaned in to inspect the leaves. "Come on, we have plenty of Feverfew back home!"
"No, no." I shook my head, plucking more than a few sprigs and adding them to my basket along with the other herbs we'd gathered. "This is for me."
"Why would you need it?" she asked, hands on her hips as she watched me from behind, her basket hanging by her forearm. "Is it for your monthly pains?"
"I've been getting migraines too," I replied, standing up and brushing the dirt off my skirts before lifting my basket.
"Why haven't you told me this?"
"I don't want you to worry," I told her, shrugging. "It's not a big deal, anyway."
"Iris, migraines are a big deal, if you're getting them frequently." she reprimanded. "How long has it been?"
"Months now." I replied, meekly.
Mother Tilda rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders. It doesn't take a skilled healer to see the exhaustion marring her features. Which is why I've been keeping this from her.
The healers were needed more than ever, especially with the ongoing wars and the infamous parties the King had hosted. People were starting riots in the streets, demanding change. But it was the healers who were working overtime to tend to all their injuries, and not to mention, the deaths.
"We'll get it checked as soon as we get back," she said. "It could be the disease of the mind."
I wanted to tell her that it wasn't, that I've poured through all the medical texts available in our quarters and have found nothing. This was magic. But I didn't want to fight her, so I just shrugged. "If you say so, Mother."
With that, she turned, heading back to the direction of our Healers' Quarters. I trailed behind her, like a stray duckling, staying close. She was right. None of us truly knew what might lurk behind these woods, surrounded by these tall, red and ancient trees covered by fog. It was best not to stray too far. After all, these woods had haunted my dreams for months now, their eerie presence lingering long after I opened my eyes.