Wizard of the Wood
I'm (Not) Alright

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22

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Panic. Sheer adrenaline. Every ounce of willpower propelled her forward. Essie could not stop running. She refused to stop running even as her lungs seized in her chest and her heart skipped every other beat, feeling like it was pumping air.

There was a voice coming from somewhere, but at this point there was no way she could determine what was being said to her.

This woman – Daemia – had chilled and unnerved Essie beyond words, and Essie was not frightened easily. Something about this woman made Essie feel small, terrified. The dark veil in her mind felt thinned, as if a single conversation with Deidamia had eaten away the protective barrier, letting things slip through the darkness and back into her mind.

Try as she might to keep it from happening, flashing images penetrated her mind, injecting themselves before her eyes. These things – these memories – were invading her mind, and the more she tried to forget, the more they pronounced themselves.

Essie didn’t notice the trees. She didn’t notice the crunch of snow beneath her feet. She didn’t even notice the branches that clawed at her cheeks. It wasn’t until Essie threw herself through her front door and slammed it shut that the intense ringing in her ears subsided enough for her to realize that sourceless voice actually belonged to Rylir.

In the meantime, Rylir, who had been clutched in Essie’s hands and pressed against her chest, only now was able to take a deep breath. Mind reeling from what he had seen, his first goal was to help Essie regain presence of mind.

Essie had never just snatched him up like that before. In one swift motion, she had rolled and picked him up only to sprint away without the use of her spell. The dull throb in his sides told him that heavy bruises were undoubtedly forming as he caught his breath, and he could feel the subtle pulse in his temple from the initial jostling of bouncing up and down with the force of Essie’s footsteps before she cast her spell.

He laid there, pressed against Essie’s palms precariously, as he thought about what else he had seen. Who was that woman? Where did she come from? And why was she fighting Essie? What he found more bone chilling was the all-too-familiar verdant-grey smoke that lingered in the air around the strange figure. Did that woman bring that smoke with her? And, if that was the case, was she responsible for what happened that day?

Rylir had to know.

Forcing air into his lungs, he continued to call out to Essie all the way back to her home until, finally, she blinked away the distant look in her eyes and looked at him.

“Essie are you alright?” asked Rylir, finally able to see Essie’s injuries. Deep bruises were forming along her jaw and on her cheek. Her lip was split in multiple places and were beginning to swell. Blood dripped from her nose, and he could hear her wheezing slightly with each breath. Whether it was because she was just catching her breath, he didn’t know.

What he did know was she barely managed to stumble over the table, jostling him as she set him down, before leaning over the fireplace and coughing violently. She gasped for a breath before, much to both of their horror, she vomited into a pail by the stone hearth. Blood continued to drip from her nose and, more alarmingly, from her lips.

The sickening bile in the back of her throat burned as her mouth watered, trying to cleanse what she had just purged from her body. Heart racing, Essie let her insides quiet down before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and forcing herself over to her cabinet of potions and pulling out a few vials of peppermint water. Her hands shook violently as she picked up her water cup, plunged it into her water basin, and poured the contents into the water.

She sipped on the water cautiously, fearing it may also make a reappearance, before swishing the liquid in her mouth and spitting it into the dirty pail. The wizard let her emotions calm before cleaning off the back of her hand and responding to Rylir.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, trying to keep her tone even and controlled. “Better now.”

“Fine? I come running up to see you getting the snot beaten out of you by another giant who came out of nowhere apparently with that weird cloud of mushroom smoke around you, and you say you’re fine?” demanded Rylir.

“Yes, I’m fine,” repeated Essie as she began pulling more potions from her cabinet, daring to begin mixing an elixir that would heal her wounds. She was still shaking. Why was she still shaking like this?

“You’re obviously not fine! Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself,” chided Rylir. “Who was that woman? Why were you running from her? Why was she hurting you? And why did she have those crazy spores with her? The ones that you said come from that toxic mushroom.”

“I… don’t kn…”

“You do! Essie, please. Just tell me,” Rylir pleaded, walking along Essie’s desk to try and catch her eye.

“I’m telling you, I don’t… I don’t remember her, but…” Essie exhaled shakily. “She… she knew me. She called me by a different name, Ezra, before calling me something else. A Conduit. She said she trained me – that she… made me into what I am.”

Essie, feeling nauseated by the thought, hunched over the pail again and sucked in deep breath after deep breath. Rylir respected Essie enough to leave her alone for a few minutes as she composed herself before questioning her again.

“And you don’t remember her? At all?” asked Rylir.

“I… think my mind is trying to remember. It’s… strange,” muttered Essie, allowing herself to prop herself up against the wall and slide down it, making Rylir just above her eye level from where he was standing on the desk. She closed her eyes and recalled the few horrid images flashing before her eyes, but she dared not disturb the veil in her mind. “It’s like it’s there, but it’s not. If I think about it without relent and without remorse, I… might be able to remember, but I… I don’t want to.”

“Essie.”

“No… Rylir. You don’t understand. I’m seeing things – terrible things,” muttered Essie, her body starting to shake again as the images flashed before her closed eyes and lingered in the darkness. “I see… chains. There’s a blade. I… I can’t move. There’s this… endless energy forcing my body to convulse and seize. I can’t control it. I hear it… A laugh – her laugh. There’s… there’s a town. She’s pressing me… trying to force me to destroy it. There’s that crackling energy… all around inside me… I…”

The more she spoke, the closer she drew her knees to her chest until, finally, Essie was curled into a ball, collapsing in on herself. Rylir knew Essie was fierce and determined, stoic but also kind. He had never seen her afraid like this before. He had never seen her vulnerable like this except for the one time he had been awake as she woke from her dream.

“I think… I think I destroyed that place… that little town… I’m… I’m a monster. I hurt them. I know it. I feel it,” muttered Essie. “She wanted me to help her… with the town there.” Her words were slightly muffled by her folded arms, but still audible.

Hearing this, Rylir felt his heart sink, but not from concern for himself. Essie was hurting, and he didn’t know what he could do or say to make things right. He did know one thing though, and it was that Essie was not a monster.

She needed to see she wasn’t a monster – prove to herself that she wasn’t a monster.

Taking the biggest gamble of his life, Rylir hurriedly slid down the secured line on the edge of the desk and slid to the floor. He listened to Essie’s deep breaths as she tried to calm herself, but it wasn’t until he was closer that he realized she was trembling from head to toe.

He had to crane his neck to look up at her as he reached out as he tried to catch her attention, but when he was unsuccessful, he thought of another way. Summoning what physical strength he had left, he pulled out his hook and, hand over fist, climbed up the folds of her cloak which she had wrapped around her entire body until he made it to the top of her knees. Rylir had to balance precariously on her knees, but once there he was practically at eye-level with her.

“Then prove it,” said Rylir firmly. Essie peered up over her folded arms and looked Rylir in the eye.

“W-what?”

“Prove you’re not a monster and go stop her.”

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