A World Long Sundered – Chapter 5 PART 3

“It took us a while to carry Thasa back to the farm, and even longer to send for Cleric Donovan. When she woke…”

“She wasn’t dead?” Auryn interrupted.

Lucia gave the slightest shake of her head, “No, she wasn’t dead, but that would have been a mercy. The Thasa that we knew was gone, the Bo destroyed whatever she had been, leaving only a babbling fool it its place. Donovan could find nothing physically wrong with her except exhaustion. We kept her here for several days to see if she would recover but…”, her voice trailed off. “We were at a loss of what to do, she had no memory of what she was before.”

“At a suggestion from Donovan we decided to look through her things to see if we could find mention of relatives or friends. She had very little besides a few bottles and keepsakes, but we did find a diary.”

Lucia sighed, “To this day I remember how sick to my stomach I got reading those pages. Much of what was in that diary I have no desire to repeat to you now but I will tell you this. You see, Thasa had been a slave. A slave to poor masters. You know how I feel about slavery Auryn, it is uncommon to see in this part of the world, but not unheard of. Her diary spoke of how nearly everyone in that small village had…abused her. I’m not going to get into too much detail, but one day she had been left for dead on the road. Perhaps the villagers had finally grown tired of her, or she had just become too broken to be of any more use. Regardless, someone found her there.”

“Was it the master healer?”

“Just so,” she nodded. “He took her in, cared for her, and brought her slowly back to health. From Thasa’s notes it sounded like he was a good man. He even trained her in the healing arts for which she mentioned she was grateful. Unfortunately, as is sometimes the case with people who go through violence at a young age, Thasa was still very much broken. Years later she returned to the village and set up shop there. No one remembered or recognized her.”

Lucia paused again, visibly shaken, “Auryn, she poisoned them. She used the skills she’d learned from her new master to kill them all.”

Lucia barely got her last words out. Auryn couldn’t find the right words to comfort his mother, “Its ok, if you don’t want to talk about it mom.”

Shaking her head, “No, there’s more, that wasn’t the worst part,” she steadied herself, “I think it is for the best that you know this. Her journal describes about how her master found out about what she did. It doesn’t say what he was going to do, only that Thasa killed him before he could stop her. She killed the person that took her in and showed her kindness for all those years. That was just before she began her journey west.”

She paused, her eyes downcast, “Her last entry spoke of how she planned on looking for another teacher and doing what needed to be done.”

“What did she mean by that?”

“I’m not sure Auryn, I’d like to think that her time here changed her for the better and that she was content, but perhaps she intended our family harm too. We took her in, just like her previous teacher. Thinking of it all scares the daylight out of me. I just don’t know.”

“But why write all that down in a diary?” He didn’t think it made sense to record all of what she did for anyone to find.

“Again, I don’t know love. People are complicated creatures, and sometimes the more broken we are the more complicated we become. I think that in her heart, she wanted people to know what had happened to her, perhaps to justify her actions or maybe to stop her. I know she felt guilt for what she had done but I’m just not sure if it was enough to stop her from hurting someone again.

“What happened to her?”

“In the end, she made the choice for us. One night she simply left. We searched for her and even inquired in town. The constable had had reports of someone matching her description who had recently passed through, but nothing else. We gave the constable her belongings, even the diary, and explained what we could, but we left the R’leigh Bo out of it.” Lucia’s gaze focused at an undefined point on the floor.

Auryn didn’t know what to think. Imagining that Bo could hurt anyone was difficult.

“Why do you think…” he began

“…that Bo took her mind?” Lucia was one step ahead. “I’ve wrestled with that question for years Auryn. I think that part of her purpose was for our protection. I do trust her Auryn, it’s just that I don’t necessarily understand her.”

Auryn let the words sink in. “I think…,” he paused, “I think Bo was granting her what she really needed. If I was her, I don’t think I would want to remember all that. Maybe Bo called Thasa to her to give her peace.”

Lucia turned towards her son. Silently she smiled and tousled his hair. That’s why the Bo loves them.

“I’ve kept you up too late love, it’s time for you to get some rest. Oh, and one more thing. Please don’t tell any of this to your sister just yet. We’ll find the time when she is older.”

“I understand.”

She kissed him goodnight and left.

Auryn’s mind swam with thoughts and undefined emotion. His heart went out for Thasa, but he thought he somewhat understood how Bo must have felt as well. Maybe the tree only had wanted to protect them, just like she did when he and his sister played in her branches. Regardless, there was one thing that he did understand now.

He knew why so many travelers turned around at the base of the Myrr mountains. Fear.

*****

Riggs returned from his reverie. How ironic that he had once thought having one’s memory taken from them could bring any type of peace. Now he had first-hand knowledge of what losing one’s mind entailed. Then again, he remembered his difficulty in waking from the serene sleep his captors induced upon him. Maybe some memories were better left in the dark. He knew he was still trapped in his own mind; the only difference now was that the bugs were allowing him to dream.

Wasn’t it easier to believe that thisreproduction was just an elaborate fabrication of his sleeping mind? How long had he been asleep? Maybe this dream was just his mind rebelling at the years of forced containment; trying to create some semblance of life for him. Dreams were often the subconscious minds way of reconciling the complications of the waking world.

“Are you certain the blood is his?”

Elder Donovan’s words snapped Riggs’ attention back to the scene. Donovan hadn’t moved from the boy’s side. Lucia sat at the foot of the bed holding Kyndra tightly to her chest. The washbasin water had been changed several times but still showed evidence of the elder’s care. Auryn still lay unconscious. If not for the bloodied rags next to the basin, it would be hard to believe Auryn had been injured at all.

Lucia’s worried gaze was the only response Donovan received.

“I can find nothing physically wrong with the boy.” Bending over, he gently pulled Auryn’s eyelids back. Lucia gave a squeak almost reaching out to stop him. Donovan paid no attention however and after seemingly satisfied, sat back down. He continued, “You saw him fall Kyndra?”

Kyndra had calmed down considerably and was uncharacteristically quiet. She nodded and whispered, “From the top.”

Donovan was silent for moment, staring at Auryn’s limp form. The expression on his face seemed to say that he didn’t discount the girl’s testimony, but none of it made sense. He knew he was missing something.

“No one else there with you girl?” Perhaps something had attacked the children? Kyndra shook her head, “Just Nana.”

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Not a scratch on him.” He seemed lost in thought again.

Some time had obviously passed without Riggs notice, for dusk was rapidly approaching.

“We’ve done nearly all we can for now. Lucia, you’d best put Kyndra to bed and I’ll try and get a little water in his belly. We must let rest do its job.”

Lucia gathered up Kyndra and began to do as the old man suggested. Before she left the room, without turning around she spoke, “Do you…do you think it’s the same Donovan? All those years ago with…with…”, her voice ended with difficulty.

Riggs stood near the window, which provided him a view of the old man his mother did not have. At first, Donovan showed no reaction as he attempted to dribble a little water down the boy’s throat. Then Donovan’s smoothly slid his hand around a small symbol hanging from his neck that he kept within his jacket. It was the kind of motion only born from habitual repetition.

He closed his eyes, “Let us hope that is not the case.” The last light of evening caught the old preacher’s necklace before he let it fall back beneath his jacket.

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A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 5 PART 3

A World Long Sundered – Chapter 5 PART 3

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