A Note From the Author...

Some people will likely notice a different tone to this chapter. I must admit, putting this chapter down on paper was difficult for me. My mind keeps rushing ahead to different parts of the story which left this chapter feeling rushed in my opinion. There is a great amount of exposition throughout. If space allows, I will likely flesh it out later. This chapter has only been slightly edited for grammar, so if you see any glaring errors, the fault is mine alone and no indication of the quality of work over at the Fiction Workshop.

Thank you again to everyone over at the Fiction Workshop. @bex-dk and @carolkean have been spending a lot of time with me and my writing as of late. I cannot say if they if they have enjoyed the experience as much as I have but it must be said that they have had a huge impact on my life. A big THANK YOU to everyone over at the Fiction Workshop on Discord. Cheers!

A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 10 PART 1

Lucia sat and watched her children by the light of the oil lamp. She’d turned the wick down and partially covered it. It was unlikely the little light would wake them, but she still wanted them to rest. Lucia absent mindedly rubbed her arm, the memory of the pain still clear in her mind. The night had been a frantic blur of confusion. Somehow she’d found the strength to carry her children in from the storm.

It had taken her the rest of the evening to get them cleaned up. Their clothing was ruined. Neither child woke as she built a fire and warmed the waters for their baths. She had done her best to remove the caked mud and blood from all of them. If not for the blood, she would have questioned whether any of it had happened at all. She remembered pouring water over her daughter’s head and running her fingers over Kyndra’s stomach and chest. Perfectly whole, the image contradicted with the memory of the storm and storage shed. Auryn, although very wet, had been less sullied. Carrying his larger form into the wooden washing tub had been a trick, but she’d managed. Lucia continued to rub her arm.

Her mind was still back in the shed. Even now, watching her children sleep side by side, she could think of little else. Sitting in the bedside chair, she listened to the water that still fell heavily from the sky. Yet, somehow the storm’s fury had diminished, as if some unseen power had been appeased.

She had not even recognized her own son until he’d been close enough to lift Kyndra’s broken body from her arms. Those eyes…Try as she might, she could not explain any part of what she’d seen.

She had thought magic had all but perished in the world. Sure, living next to the R’leigh Bo had shown her things that few people left in the world could claim, but she’d never really thought the old tree as more than a relic from the past. A nearly forgotten remnant, and certainly not natural—but magic?

I wish you were here, Richard. You’d know how to handle this.

A memory of her husband bubbled up from the darkness.

“Magic is usually just the unlearned trying to define something fantastical they don’t understand, Lucia.”

Lucia laughed. “Is that so? Then do I have magic to blame for finding you unconscious in the forest all those years ago?”

Chuckling, his hand went to the back of his head and that sheepish smile spread along his face. “Hardly. Well, that’s…” he cleared his throat, “Well, I’m not saying magic doesn’t exist…”

Kyndra stirred slightly bringing Lucia’s attention back to the present.

Is that what I’m doing now, Richard? Attaching a label to something I don’t understand? She shook her head. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Whatever she’d seen last night, whatever had held her son in its grip went far beyond her understanding of the known world. Her chest still tightened in fear remembering the light pouring from Auryn’s eyes. Even the memory of it left Lucia feeling unsettled. The heavy light had felt so alien, so cold. And yet, it had been the light that had returned her family to her.

Something had happened to her son the day he fell from the Bo. That much was clear. It was easier to think that some fae power, perhaps the tree itself, had taken control of her son. She shuddered at the alternative. “When he wakes, will he still be…?” She refused to finish the thought. Of course he was still the same boy. She buried the thought even deeper. Auryn was still her son, and now more than ever, she needed to remember that. Lucia stopped rubbing her arm. She was exhausted, but she knew she would be unable to sleep.

Listening to the rain outside, she imagined the damage the storm had caused the farm. It would likely take weeks to return things to working order. Normally, that would have been all right. Hard work never daunted Lucia, but now she found herself wondering if it was worth it. The walls suddenly felt a little colder than before. For the first time, she realized that the farm had begun to feel less like the home it had once been. The forest had given her everything she loved in her life—Richard, her children, even purpose. Yet a crack had begun to form between her and this place. She realized now that it had appeared on that day she’d found her son at the base of the Bo. The image of the tens of thousands of dead leaves covering the ground around the R’leigh Bo came to her mind.

But where would we go? The idea sprang out of nowhere. No, it was impossible. They couldn’t leave, could they? Lucia sighed and realized she was rubbing her arm again.

“You’ve worried enough for one day,” she whispered.

Tomorrow will take care of itself. My children are here, and that’s all that matters.

By late night, the storm had downgraded to a shower and by morning, to a drizzle.

Auryn and Kyndra woke early with their mother by their side.

Continue to part 2