Whispers of Fate: Part 9

Part 9

Drysi beheld the midday sun through the cross bars of her room’s large window. The castle was quiet, every vampire was asleep. She wondered if she hadn’t left, would she also be asleep? It used to be so easy for her to sleep during the day but now she found she was more afraid of the night. 

Absent-mindedly, she ran her fingers over the blade of the dagger on her bedside table.  It had been three weeks since she had come back to Lorrington. Well, three weeks since she had been brought back.

Shortly after leaving the confines of London, a squad of vampires had found her. They explained that their leader had gone missing and they were heading back to get new orders. She didn’t necessarily agree to go back but she didn’t object either. A part of her wondered why none of them commented on the bangle in her pocket but she supposed all of its magic was gone. 

Now, here she was, back once more. Unable to leave, she only stalked the castle and rotted away in her room. If she could kill herself and end this purgatory, she would have already. However, three times she had tried and three times the beast had stopped her. An immense ennui setting in, she wondered why the gods wouldn’t let her live but they refused to let her die.

Arching her back, she stood from her chair by the window and fell onto her bed. Feeling around under her pillow, she produced the small silver bracelet, its surface inset with blue sapphires. 

She eyed it for a moment and slipped it onto her wrist. It fit perfectly, of course. Just as it had fit Natalie. Just as it would probably fit Kestrel. 

Waving it around in the air above her for a minute in hopes it would create fire or even just a faint glow, she wondered what had become of that witch. Did she do what the beast stopped Drysi from doing? Maybe she was finding actual happiness. Frolicking through meadows, smelling the flowers, and resting in the grass. Or was she also sitting in a prison, comfortable yet inescapable? No, she had always been a free spirit. 

A part of Drysi still clung to the hope that she may one day show up and right all of this wrong. She knew this part was delusional but it was better to imagine something prophetic sketched onto the walls than looking at the plain cold stone. 

Her hand moved back and forth, back, twist, and… pop. Thrice she repeated this motion, her wrist popping every time as reliable as a dishonest prayer. Eventually Natalie let her hand rest on the counter as the door rang open before her. A very tall man with a deer-like face, long pointed ears, hip length amber hair, and a long white coat, ducked under the door frame and approached the young cashier, his beady eyes traced her plainly clothed figure and dark hair pulled into a small bun on her head. Placing his hand calmly on the counter, he began to speak in a voice like flowing silver. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a couple nightshades, would you? I have a very important person I have to see soon and I believe they would adore a slightly darker bouquet.”

Natalie nodded. “I think so, sir. Would you like a large bouquet? Or a smaller one? The large one would be about-”

He held up his hand. “It doesn’t matter the price, I will take the large one. Thank you oh so much.”

“Just give me a moment then, sir. I will be right back.” 

Scuttling into the back room, she began to peruse several tar lined buckets filled with almost any kind of flower she could possibly ever think of. 

Natalie was grateful that she had been able to find work so fast. The London flower salesman was looking for a worker and didn’t mind hiring young. The man himself was a bit off putting and seemed to be eyeing Natalie but never said a thing that was not befitting of a consummate professional. 

For two weeks, she had worked. It was a bit slow at times, maybe a bit too fast at others, but it kept her mind busy and that was better than staring into the darkness and wishing for death to whisk her away.

Counting out the last fifteen nightshades, two short of a large bouquet, she pulled them from the water. Returning to the front, she apologized for not having the number he wished for. 

“Oh, that’s alright. How about you throw in two red poppies and call it good. Say, I’m new to town. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get a good meal?”

She returned to the back and yelled through the door. “Uh… down the main street, there's a tavern that I have heard serves pretty good ale, if you want that.”

Natalie parsed through the large bucket filled with poppies. Funny that someone should want both the sacred flower of Mol and the sacred flower of Ashallalah in one bouquet. It was as if they liked seeing the colors struggle against each other. Picking out the best of the bunch, she pushed back through the door to see the tall man counting out coins. She presented him with the flowers. “Here is your bouquet, will that be all, sir?”

He grinned and took a pile of gold in his hand before placing them gently on the counter. “Well, I have travelled all the way from France. I have heard tell that there are witches here. Tell me, young one, is this true?”

Her heart jumped and began to rapidly run underneath her brown shirt. “Uh…”

Natalie realized she didn’t know how to answer. It was like the man had sheered off her tongue. Clearing her throat, she dropped the flowers from one hand to the other. “Uh… no, sir. There are no witches here, not anymore. There haven’t been for a very long time. I’m sorry, sir. Here’s your flowers, as you ordered.”

He sighed and took the bouquet in his slender fingers. “That is a shame. I was hoping to meet them. Perhaps they shall come around again someday.”

She shook her head. “I think not, sir, they are quite gone.”

He nodded his thanks and turned to leave. Just as he got to the door, he paused. “Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Have a good day… Natalie.”

Before she could question how he knew her name, he had ducked back out into the crowded street and had disappeared into thin air. It was like he was never even there.

She felt a shiver run down her spine and dropped her head into her hands. It was going to be a long day.

The day, having been just as long as Natalie had anticipated, passed just the same. Pulling the curtains of the windows in place and placing the shutter on the door, she reached for the broom in the corner. After a minute of sweeping, there was a knock from behind the shutter. Opening the door a crack, she spoke through the opening. “Sorry, we’re closed. Could you come back another day-”

Her voice stopped itself as she finally saw to whom she spoke. A little girl slightly shorter than her, her limbs completely covered by a floor length grey cloak, looked back with a polite smile. “Oh, I’m sorry that you are closing. Could you possibly make a small exception? I only want one flower. I will even pay extra.”

Natalie found herself stunned as she eyed the cloak. It was the same as the faelings wore. The same as she wore once. Shaking herself out of the trance, she pulled open to the door further. “Yes… yes, of course. Come in.”

Stepping back behind the counter, she placed both arms on the counter top. “How can I help you, sist- child?”

The girl smiled even wider and clasped her hands together as if reciting a true prayer. “I want one red poppie, miss. It's for something special.”

Natalie moved to the back. “Oh, what for?”

She moved her fingers through the flowers, their cold petals soothing her sore wrist.

“It's for a memorial.”

Natalie stopped and hovered by the poppies. “At the cemetery?”

“Yes… how did you know?”

She laughed and turned back to the flowers. “Just call it intuition.”

She ran through the flowers but they all seemed too grandiose, too much for a simple memory. Pushing towards the bottom, she found the smallest poppy, one with only five petals instead of the usual six. When she pulled it out, she found it to be slumping over on itself. Holding the stem steady in her left hand, she placed her right palm against the green skin. A second later, she pulled her hand away and the stem was whole once more.

Reverently returning to her young customer, Natalie gently handed her the flower. As the girl began to count out pieces of silver, Natalie put her hand on the girl’s. “Don’t, it's on the house. Consider it my condolences. Carry it and be proud of who you are, ok?”

With naive hope in her eyes, the fledgling looked up at Natalie then lowered her head in a small bow. Without another glance, the girl ran out the door. Natalie couldn’t help but smile. The young girl had given her a gift far better than a single flower. 

She smirked and returned to sweeping. Something would have to change but, just for tonight, she would rest.

As Drysi stared up her ceiling, there came a quiet but deliberate knock at her door. “Come in!”

When the door did not open, she pushed herself off the bed and stumbled over to the entrance. Pulling the door aside, she looked around for whoever knocked. When she saw no one, she began to close the door. As she did, a strange sight caught her eye: a bouquet of flowers sitting just at the base of her feet. Bending over to pick it up, a note fell out from between the petals.

“Who in their right mind would make a bouquet out of all nightshades? And a couple poppies?”

Taking the letter off the ground, she opened it to learn the mad man that had put together the odd bouquet. Instead of the name of some secret admirer, or even of an apology from Kestrel for leaving her alone so long, she only saw a single sentence written in perfect hand writing across the center of the white stationary: The witch sends her regards. 

Pushing the door shut, she took the flowers over to the window and set them on the wood, the note propped against the stems. Returning to her bed, she could feel her eyes beginning to close under the virgin moonlight. Her dreams, her thoughts, and even her breaths, hope curled out like smoke from the fire in her heart. For the first time in years, she smiled in her sleep. Even then she knew things would be right once more.