Hot...
Hot...
It feels like fire was ravaging his flesh. Helios tries to move but the empty black void restrain his body. He couldn't move around nor see what's happening and then...
SHWING
A sharp sound like steel cutting through air vibrated and for a moment he felt like his ear drums are about to burst. He coughed, he tried to breath, but with each passing moment he find himself weaker and weaker.
"Anybody?" He cries desperately, feeling his body fell to his knees.
'You have committed a major sin.'
'Repent.'
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊₊˚ ✧ ━━━━
"Mama!"
Liselotte called out from beside her mother's bed, a basket in hand. With a sweaty and dirty palm full of calluses, she reached out to touch and feel her mother's face.
"..."
Mother is unresponsive again.
She took a deep breath, smiling and yet her lips quiver. "Mama I'm going to grab some medicine." She whispered gently, taking her basket with her and walking out of their modest home that more resembles a hut more than anything.
Liselotte might seem like your typical country side young girl: short and skinny from the lack of nutrition she eats, her dresses and frock is always covered in cloth patches she sew herself and her bright brown hair always sticks out and gets into a tangled mess. Despite this, there is something atypical about her.
Liselotte has red eyes, a pair of beautiful eyes that shines underneath the sun light. Those red eyes began to shed tears once she walks out of their home towards the alchemist's shop.
'Unfair unfair unfair unfair unfair unfair.'
'This world is unfair.'
She saw noble carriages passed by and she could see expensive feather and styled hair in premium wigs that is probably able to afford her mother a proper warm meal. In annoyance, Liselotte kicked a pebble to the carriage's road which went unnoticed by the coach. Still, it felt like a small rebellion.
The truth is, Liselotte's mother hasn't always been like this. She used to live happily with Liselotte and her husband when some knights abruptly knocked on their modest cottage home and dragged him away, looting all of their precious stuff along with them.
Liselotte who was only 9 tried her best to save her dad, but she was pushed down by one of the men. It is no surprise that a 9 year old girl's stamina wouldn't be able to match that of a grown man and so she had to witness her father violently thrown into a carriage, never to be seen again.
'I hate nobles.'
'I hate rich people. There is nothing noble about them.'
Her mother fell into depression and suffered from a miscarriage after. Liselotte could still remember the day when her stillborn brother was buried at the back of the local chapel and the priest praying for him.
Everything went harder after that. The townspeople gossiped about their family, about her father, and about her mother's miscarriage. Sometimes, drunken men would try to enter their house, hearing that a sickly beautiful woman is alone inside. Each day, each night, Liselotte would cry and cry, begging for them to stop and begging for people to help them until she got sick of crying.
'I hate poor people too. I hate everyone.'
The only person dear to her is her mother and anytime she felt sorry for her mother she would cry. Her family are the only people capable of making her cry. Then, the memory of the her dad came to her mind. The man with a pair of red eyes she takes after, always smiling gently and always reads her stories at night.
'I miss dad, I miss dad.'
Her tears just got stronger and she tried to wipe them quickly.
When Liselotte was 10, she moved to this place. Her mother found an abandoned hut and decided that it will be their new humble abode. 'It's better to live here than that dreadful town,' She would say.
Her mother used to be strong enough to go out and try to buy used clothes and furniture with the amount of money she had left, but eventually her illness got worse and worse until she could no longer get out of bed. Now, Liselotte would go out everyday to see any small jobs she could do and buy her mother food and remedies or potions from the alchemist. She would undertake any job: cleaner at a pub, an assistant for a seamstress, plow at a farmer's field, or collect precious stones for a jeweller. Sometimes, these people pay her fairly or give her more than enough out of pity, but sometimes they would try to rob her from her pay.
Any sane person would wonder, how come an 11 year old child with a descriptively beautiful eyes wondering around country side evade any abduction? It is a logical conclusion, indeed. But I haven't tell you that Liselotte...
Has a special kind of eye
She can read people's auras, whether they think of good or bad and whether they want to do good or bad. She can sense their intent and she can read their character. It was like seeing through a glass jar, and that glass jar can contain liquid as dark as onyx or as white and pure like milk.
For her, it was a blessing because it helped her detect any adults posing as a saviour or a saint wanting to help her when in reality they have other dark intentions. It also helped her when buying products or items, knowing whether the seller has any intent on scamming her. In a world when she was alone navigating through what adults should be doing, her eyes are her guide and she would look at people steadily, searching for their truth.
"Hello,"
Liselotte rang the bell by the alchemist's shop door.
After a moment, the brown wooden door narrowly open and a man with long brown hair tied messily into a pony tail peeked through the exposed slit. "Don't you know today is the end of the week? We're closed," He said a bit annoyed.
"My mother's illness knows no days,"
"You speak so solemnly," The alchemist remarked. He stared at Lise for a bit and then turned back to retrieve something. Lise waited for his re-appearance and as she does so, she observes the shop. A simple and modest shop, with a small sign posted at the front.
'Richard's Alchemy.'
She knows this shop is popular because she always sees noble carriage stopping by every time she buys potions for her mother.
'I've tried buying herbal remedies from herbalists but none of them work. This is the only alchemist near my house and it's the only one working so far.'
She remembers crying a couple of months ago as she ran to this very same door, knocking and begging Richard the alchemist for a potion for her sick mother. The man, confused and bewildered, asked the little girl what are her mother's illness symptoms in which she described as acutely detailed as possible. He quickly gave her a vial of potion, told her to run and come back if it doesn't work.
'He may seem mean but he's a good man,' Lise thought to herself. She remembers giving her mother the potion, watching life slowly return to her mother's eyes. It was like magic. From that day onwards, she always return to this brown wooden door, knocking.
After a while, the man reappears.
"Here, take care."
There was two vials of potions, gently handed over to the little girl's palms.
"Two? I don't have that much money..."
"Oh go to hell with money, you live with your sickly mother don't you? I'm not an evil capitalist," He scoffs, "I can't take care of you, but the least I could do is give these potions for you for a fraction of a price."
"How much gold?" She takes out a small sac from a worn-out cotton.
"...just 3,"
"Are you sure...?" Lise cautiously looks at the man. He radiates a soft hue of pale blue, like he's engulfed in sadness. Behind the exterior of the stern alchemist, she could see a sad man between those cracks.
'Does he pity me?'
"3. Just 3. Quick, give it to your mother."
Lise quickly took 3 pieces of gold coins and handed it to the alchemist. Richard took it and stuffed into his pocket. "I wish your mother well," He looks at Liselotte and for the first time, she saw the glint in his eyes clearly.
"Sir are you crying?"
"No, I'm not. What nonsense! Hush, now go before she gets even sicker!"
Richard closes the door before Lise could say another word.
'What a strange man... I wonder if he has any family of his own,'
Lise walks back with thoughts about the alchemist. She stores the potions safely in the basket and hurriedly heads home, tracing the path she always takes every time she goes out.
Once she found the hut, she frantically opens the door and quickly runs to her mother who is laying motionless in bed. "Mama I'm back," She whispers softly, quickly taking out a vial and slowly feeding her mother through a pipette she stores nearby. With a weak gulp, her mother swallows the potion. Then, with a racing heart, Lise feels her mother's pulse.
'Is it returning to normal? Is it going back quicker?'
'Oh!'
She feels her mother's pulse which was faint returning back stronger and quicker. The potion works as usual which is a relief. Usually, the healing effects lasts for a whole day but lately her mother would return sicker within half a day. This means Lise would need to go out more often to earn more money to be able to afford the potion.
'But the alchemist has been giving me plenty cheap prices,'
'I hope his business is doing well,'
"Mama, do you want porridge? I made some potato carrot porridge with mushrooms!"
Her mother didn't respond. She looks away and starts crying.
'Ah...'
Lise's heart ache. She can't stand seeing her mother cry but this isn't the first time her mother reacts like this. A few weeks ago, upon feeling better, her mother starts repeatedly saying: "Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, forgive me." Over and over and over again. Perhaps the toll of sickness is not only to the body, but also to the mind.
Lise didn't say anything. She stands up and grab a bowl of porridge she made. The rice is starting to go bad, evident from the amount of bugs starting to swarm inside the sac.
'I have to look for more fire wood soon,' The small stash of woods she used to make the fire to cook using their modest stone stove is quickly running out. She usually chop up some block of unwanted or left over woods that she bought from the carpenter next door for 10 silver, which is not that expensive.
"Is it good?" Enquire Lise upon handing the bowl to her mother,
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Lise holds her breath, the aura seeping out from her mother is unbearable. It's a suffocating shade of purple. After her mother finishes her food and Liselotte had made sure her mother is a sleep, the young girl quietly tiptoes outside to greet the gentle breeze of the late afternoon wind. As much as she loves her mother, the sickness had transformed the tender woman she knew to that of a hollow shell she hardly recognise.
There's a small mound of grassy hill nearby a lake just 10 minutes from where she lives. It's even farther away from the houses of nearby neighbours and villagers but she loved going there to just enjoy the tranquility herself. As she walks to 'her secret spot' she can't help but think: 'I want to sleep there,' 'I wonder how long I can sleep there', 'Surely it will take a while before mother wakes up.'
Walking by herself, hearing the sound of dirt against her sandals made from coarse wood, listening to the singing of birds and the sound of soft wind, she smiles to herself.
'Mother is alive and she is asleep and she is content.'
'I can play by myself now,'
'It's a beautiful day.'