"Mapping Relyah (1)" by Sarah M Jilek

1

The jagged branches of the swaying, creaking old pine trees slapped against my face, stinging my cheeks. I ran with all the fury built up inside me. The kind of fury that comes from nineteen years of anger just waiting to explode. The rumbling thunder warned me, and then two seconds later a crash of white lightning split the sky overhead, bringing momentary light to the sea of boiling purple clouds. My heart jumped, but I kept running, my shoes pounding into the mud and splashing brown water over the folds of my navy-blue dress that I held up with two hands so that I wouldn’t trip over it as I ran. Huge raindrops splashed onto my head and face and arms and legs. The rain was cold, and if I hadn’t been running I would have been drenched, soaking wet and chilled to the bone.

My shoes eventually slipped off my feet and then I was running barefoot through the forest, blundering blindly, and raindrops stung my eyes and mixed with tears. Rocks cut my feet, and my dress snagged on branches and ripped and tore. I kept running. I kept running until the rain stopped. By then gray dawn had appeared on the horizon and I realized I was tired. I had been running all night. I gradually slowed to a stop and collapsed onto the rocky forest ground.

~

I hadn’t intended to run. I had intended to stay in Anarra my entire life. Ever since I was a child, I had wanted with all of my heart to stay. To stay in the beautiful city with its off-white banners rippling in the morning breeze, with the exotic ships ever coming and going in its harbors. Anarra, the city on the coast of the Sea, the most beautiful city on the huge island of Relyah. I loved it there. But time changes people. People are changeable. They can shift, like clay in an artist’s hands, or wind on a summer day. Lives tangle like spider webs, and, as much as you may want to, there are some lives that you can’t untangle. Sometimes the only thing to do is run.

Before I opened my eyes that morning - or night, I didn’t know which-, I remembered. I looked back on my life. Reflected, that was the word for it. I reflected on my life so far. It’s one of the most painful things that I do. I don’t do it often, but when I do, it nearly destroys me.

I started at the beginning. Most people would say that it’s impossible to remember things from when you were a baby. I beg to differ. I remember one thing, just one, from the day I was born. I remember my mother’s death. I clearly remember her holding me and looking into my blue eyes, how hers were filled with the joy of anticipation finally paying off. I remember her eyes closing for the last time. I can remember her death. That’s the only memory I have from that age, but I do have another one from when I was three years old. My birthday, actually. That was the day my father first started molesting me.

I remember everything about it. I can see myself sitting alone in my room, coloring myself a picture of a cake with three candles on it and presents around it. I can hear the door opening and I can see my father storming in my room and shutting the door behind him. I see myself standing up, almost like a reflex, wondering what he wanted. I can feel the fear, as clear as glass, which has stayed with me these sixteen years. I can hear my mind screaming, feel my head swirling, and see myself crying. I can hear him shouting. I can hear him saying,

“You want to know what it feels like? This is the day you killed your mother, you little bitch!”

The words ring in my ears, cold and cruel, but familiar over the years. I can see him leaving the room and slamming the door, and I see me still crying, crawling under the covers of my bed and clutching my picture close to me, the picture with the three candles.

It never stopped. I didn’t understand it when I was little, and as I got older, I did, but it never stopped. I could have stopped it. I could have killed him if I’d tried. I’d grown stronger over the years and he’d grown weaker. So what was stopping me? Was it that all I wanted in the world was to believe that he actually loved me? That he never blamed me for her death? Maybe.

I finally opened my eyes and jumped in surprise. I was lying in a soft bed with thin sheets covering me. I could hear strange birds cawing from outside the open window. The room was small but comfortable and the bed was firm but cozy. The window let in a soft ocean breeze, and for a second, it reminded me of the harbors around Anarra.

I threw off the sheets and gasped. I was wearing a plain but flattering nightgown and I could see that my navy-blue dress had been washed and was draped over a chair next to the bed. My hair was still tangled, though.

“I figured you’d want something else to wear,” a deep voice said. I turned, startled. Standing in the doorway to the right of the bed was a boy. Or, more accurately, a man. Probably my age, give or take a few years. He had shaggy sandy-blonde hair and amber-colored eyes. In addition to that, his cheeks were covered in freckles and he had an air that said “I’d rather be anywhere but here.”

I turned to look at what he was holding. It was a chain-mail shirt with a silver belt and long black boots. Surprisingly, I liked it; although I wasn’t sure it would fit me.

“Where am I?” I asked suddenly, as he walked slowly into the room to drape the outfit over a chair next to the one my ruined dress was on.

“Tallieth. This is my house. Where are you from?” he asked me. Crap. I was in Tallieth? They hated witches there. I was definitely in the wrong place. And, worse yet, he asked me where I was from.

“Drassea,” I lied automatically, saying the first city that popped into my head.

“That’s a lie,” he said immediately. I froze. “I saw your Mark. You’re a witch, and you’re from Anarra.”

I had no clue what to say. Nearly no one had ever caught me lying like that before.

“Okay, so what? What are you anyway, the Tallieth Witch Rescuers or something?” I replied, my arms crossed across my chest. He chuckled, but there was no warmth in his laugh. The corners of his mouth lifted, but the smile never reached his eyes.

“Nope. Just about the only person in Tallieth who would ever take a witch from Anarra into his house,” he replied. He was leaning with his back against one of the chairs.

“Whatever, okay? Is that supposed to make me feel guilty for insulting you or something? I was fine out there. You should’ve left me. I can take care of myself,” I snapped. I absentmindedly glanced down at the floor and saw his shoes. They caught my attention because they were oddly shaped. No, wait a second… “Hey, genius, your shoes are on the wrong feet,” I added. He looked down.

“Oh,” he said and quickly switched them. I rolled my eyes. How stupid were these people?

“You got a name or something?” I asked him once his shoes were on the right feet.

“I’m Arainn, but everybody just calls me Rain. You are?” he asked me.

“Akkailia.” I replied.

“Yeah, I’m probably gonna forget that in about five minutes,” he said. I smiled.

“How about you just call me Kay?” I asked.

“Okay, Kay,” he chuckled, and this time his eyes glistened with the laugh.

“You got anything to drink around here?” I asked him, getting out of the bed. I stumbled a little, but it wasn’t as if he rushed over to help me or anything. He just stood there, still leaning against the chair. What a gentleman.

“Like alcohol?” he asked.

“No, like spring water with a little umbrella in it. Hell, yes, alcohol,” I snapped.

“Isn’t alcohol illegal in Anarra?” he asked me. I nodded.

“Yeah, but not if you don’t get caught,” I replied.

“Okay, then. You should change into that,” he suggested.

“You wish. I’m not changing in front of-” I began, but he cut me off.

“I’m leaving, okay? Change and come downstairs,” he said, slamming the door behind him. I could hear him thumping down the stairs.

“Issues,” I said to myself, shaking my head as I changed into the outfit he gave me. I was surprised when it fit me almost perfectly. The silver chain mail hung comfortably on both shoulders. It had a wide neckline and it looked like it was going to slip off, but it never did, luckily. I was wearing the nightgown underneath it, and it actually looked good. I brushed my brown wavy hair until it shone and I picked all the leaves out of it. I decided to leave it down, and I tucked it into the back of my chain mail/nightgown. Just because Rain was somewhat okay with me being a witch didn’t mean anyone else would be, so it was probably a safe idea to hide my Mark.

I clomped down the stairs and almost fell twice - I’ve never really been good at this whole graceful thing. I finally made it to the bottom of the staircase and looked around at the house I was in. It was small, quaint house with paintings on the walls and homemade blankets on the furniture. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted to me from the kitchen. I breathed deeply, realizing that I was hungry.

“Hungry?” a voice asked from behind me, breaking the silence and causing me to jump. I whirled around. Rain was standing behind me with a piece of bread in his mouth. He was also holding one out to me. I took it eagerly and ripped into it. It was good bread, and it was still hot. I think I ate it all in two point five seconds.

“Let’s go,” Rain suggested -well, more like ordered-, putting on his shoes. I noticed that he paused before doing it; as if he was making sure he had them on the right feet.

“They on the right feet this time, genius?” I asked, and he glared at me.

“Let’s go,” he grumbled again and opened the door. Gentleman that he was, he let himself out first and almost slammed the door on me. After I closed the door gently I hurried to catch up with him.

“So, do you live alone?” I asked him. He didn’t look at me, but instead he kept staring straight ahead.

“No, my sister lives with me,” he replied.

“You got parents?” I asked.

“Yeah, they live on the other side of town,” he grumbled.

“Both your parents?” I asked in wonder. He nodded, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “And you, like, know them?” I asked. Gosh, I hadn’t meant to sound so stupid, but…wow.

“Yes, I know my parents. What’s the big deal?” he asked. I stopped walking, and I was surprised when he did too. “What?” he asked me.

“You better rethink your attitude,” I said.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You’re the luckiest person I’ve ever met. I mean, you have…a family, and you…” I trailed off, straightened myself up and started walking again. Rain grabbed my arm and stopped me.

“What was that about, Kay?” he asked me, looking deep into my blue eyes as if he could see my soul. I shrugged, trying to brush it off and look nonchalant.

“Nothing. Just forget it, okay?” I said and wrenched my arm from his grasp and started walking again. He fell into step with me and we walked the rest of the way in silence.

The streets of Tallieth were nothing like Anarra. They were unorganized and wild, with street performers and vendors, whereas in Anarra the streets were quiet, well-cobbled and peaceful. Here the entire town was alive with huge throngs of people. We soon came to a tavern with a swinging sign that read ‘The Golden Lion’, of course with a painting of a prancing lion on it. We stepped inside and I could hear shouts and smell drinks right away. Arainn headed straight for the bar, and I didn’t protest. We sat with one barstool in between us; I don’t think either one of us wanted to sit by the other. The bartender recognized Rain immediately and smiled, asking,

“What’ll it be?”

“Demon’s Hammer,” Rain replied right away, and then nodded at me. “What do you want?” he grumbled. Jeesh, this boy needed an attitude adjustment. I glanced up at the painted board with the drinks scribbled on it and said the first one that sounded nice and alcoholic.

“Vampire’s Breath.” Rain looked at me out of the corner of his eye. His look said “whatever, it’s your funeral” all over it, but that only encouraged me more.

The bartender nodded and turned around, grabbing two glasses and setting one in front of each of us. Actually, mine was a round white mug with unidentifiable spices on the rim and Rain’s was a clear shot glass. The bartender poured mine first. The liquid was white and creamy, and then when the mug was filled he added a red liquid to make a swirl on top of the white liquid.

“There you are, miss,” he said. I noticed that he looked at me with cold eyes when he moved on to where Rain was sitting. He filled the shot glass with a dark blue liquid. The drink immediately started steaming, although it was clearly served at room temperature.

I put both of my hands around the mug in front of me and realized it was freezing cold. I brought the mug to my mouth and tried not to recoil in disgust. The drink smelled strongly of blood. I took a sip and was relieved when it tasted like mint and not, well, blood. I was feeling a little dizzy by the time the whole thing was gone, and it was a good feeling, the best I’ve had in a while.

“What now?” I asked Rain after a minute of uncomfortable silence.

“Now you leave, because I have to be somewhere,” he answered, motioning for the bartender to fill his glass again.

“What? Where am I supposed to go?” I asked him. He shrugged, drinking the dark blue liquid.

“Back where you came from, for all I care,” he said.

“Why do I have to leave? Where are you going, anyway?” I asked Rain.

“None of your business,” he replied, standing up and placing a few coins on the bar. He started walking out and I followed him. No way was I letting him get away without telling me where he was going.

“Oh, I get it now. You just happen to find me in Demon’s Forest, you take me into your city when you know people here hate witches (I said this in a whisper because there were people nearby) and now it’s not any of my business, right?” I snapped at him. I was standing on the top step of the entrance to the tavern. He turned around.

“Yep, that’s pretty much it, I think.” He turned back around and started walking again. I jogged to catch up with him. “You’re not following me, Kay,” he stated firmly, but I wasn’t fooled.

“Hell yes I am,” I argued.

“Fine. Whatever. Follow me,” he grumbled.

“Ha. I win!” I thought as I fell into step beside him. We had been walking in silence for a few minutes when I heard the crash. Rain didn’t seem to notice it, although it sounded like we were walking toward the noise. I followed him through a long alley filled with scurrying rats that smelled of something unidentifiable. By the time we reached the end of the alley I’d started to wonder if I’d ever see daylight again. Luckily, we came out in a street that looked almost exactly like the one we’d left a while before. I had to hurry to keep up with Rain, dodging people as they went about their business. For a minute I thought I’d lost him, but then I caught sight of him turning into yet another alley. How many alleys were in this place? I strolled along beside him and stayed silent.

“So, are you going to tell me why you said what you said back there?” he asked me in a minute. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

“What I said when?” I asked, picking out a spot on one of my boots and staring at it.

“Before we went into the tavern, when we were talking about my family. I know you know what I’m talking about.” I sighed, trying to buy some time so I could think.

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just kind of thinking out loud,” I replied, still staring at my boot. Rain let out an exasperated sigh.

“You don’t want to tell me? Fine. But don’t treat me like an idiot,” he snapped and started walking faster. I matched his speed but kept silent. We stepped out of the alley, which opened into yet another street. I walked almost directly behind Rain, staying back a few steps. He walked up to a merchant who was showing off his wares to passing people. As I got closer I saw what he was selling and took a step back. There were shelves filled with what sure looked like the Calerea plant. I recognized the graceful white blossoms immediately. It was a plant all witches knew, since it was used to purify the pyre before they were burned. I watched in horror as Rain bought an armful of it. He turned to face me, and I could tell he could see the horror on my face. “It’s not for you. But now do you understand why I didn’t want you to follow me?”