The Thorn Chaise

Chapter 3

For dinner, Lucas cooked another boar. I could never get used to the unique succulence of these animals.

The dining room is dignified. Filled with the allure of the upper class. I am seated next to Lucas, despite the table having enough spots to fit a congregation.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” I shatter the quietness with my words. Despite the silence, there’s no hint of awkwardness or discomfort. “What material is the big doll house in my room made from?”

“Plastic.” He looks at me confused. “I’ve never met a child so interested in building materials before.” His confused look gradually vanishes, being replaced with a hearty smile. “I’ll have to show you my shed sometimes. It’s full of all things under the sun.”

“I’d like that.” I smile back.

After dinner, I help Lucas wash the dishes. He thanks me, and pats me on the head. I’ve never been praised like that before, or I don’t remember it. Either way, I could get used to this cozy lifestyle.

Next, I take a bath in Lucas’ guest bathroom. The bathtub itself is almost as big as the house I’ve lived in for 12 years. I carefully scrub every part of my body. Afterward, I dress in the silk pajamas Lucas lent me. They’re more comfortable than the dirty dress that clung to my body for so long. I stare at the mirror above the sink, and back stares a little girl. Her curly hair sits messily in an afro. I miss my aptly arranged twin buns, but at least I’m clean now. I look at my knees, which were once full of bruises. They seem to have healed.

Exhausted from today, I go to my room afterward. I haven’t had the chance to look at the bed I’ll be sleeping in from up close. The mattress is so soft, that I sink into it upon contact. The bedsheets are a bright bubblegum pink and the pillows are pastels. Before I know it, I fall asleep.

Mary looks at me. Her eyes are bluer than the sky.

“You’re adorable.” She coos. “I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.”

All I can do is stare. I haven’t fully processed her words yet.

We’re sitting under a tree, during warm weather, on a red picnic blanket. Next to us, there are several half-eaten pastries. She’s wearing the same beautiful ivory dress, but this time, her hair is tied behind her ears in a well-ordered bun. Her bangs are clouding her vision.

“I don’t care what father says, your skin is perfect just as it is.” She continues. “Father is a terribly old-fashioned man. His segregated mindset will soon die out.”

“Is that good?” I mutter, almost in a whisper.

“Of course it is!”

“But he’ll die with it.”

“Well, sometimes, sacrifices are made for a better world. You’re still young, you don’t have to worry about that. I promise to leave a good world behind when I die, so that you may live a good life.” Mary murmurs, patting my head in the same way Lucas does.

“Do you have to die?”

“Everyone dies. The sooner you accept it, the farther it seems. I’m one of the lucky ones; I’ve had a happy childhood, full of wealth and love and everything I could wish for. I want you to have a life as good as mine, and as soon as I wake up, I promise you I’ll offer you it.”

“Why me?”

“Because fate has brought us together.”

I awake, sweaty and dazed. This is the first dream I’ve had in a long time. I look at my window, only to realize it’s already morning. The view from my window is exquisite; I can see the ivy crawling on the sturdy fence, and the shed Lucas talked about. The sun is spreading its’ glimmer all around the property and the celestial bolt couldn’t be more strident.

I summon all the strength I have and get up, heading for the living room where I know I’ll find Lucas. As expected, he’s seated on an extravagant maroon couch, reading a book as thick as his head.

“Good morning.” He gets up and comes closer. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. The bed was very comfortable. When will we start heading towards the Cave Queen?”

“I was thinking we can go tomorrow when the sun won’t be as strong.” He pats me on the head. “I made you breakfast. It’s in the kitchen.”

I still remember the path from the living room to the kitchen from last time, but Lucas seems insistent on leading me there. He gently grabs my shoulder and leads me to the kitchen.

“I’m glad you slept well. I didn’t receive the same treatment.” Lucas pouts. “For the first time in three years, I didn’t dream of Mary. Hell, I didn’t dream of anything.”

“Oh…” My lips quiver. “I dreamt of-“ I stop myself from confessing my dream. I don’t want to make him feel worse about that night. “I dreamt of home.” I lie. Though my guts fill with guilt, I power through.

“Don’t you consider this place home now?” He doesn’t look at me.

“I think I’m just not adjusted yet. I mean, I lived my whole life in that village, it’s only natural I consider it my home.”

“Macie… Why would you consider that wicked place home? The villagers abandoned you and your father has forsaken you.” I cannot decipher his expression. He doesn’t look angry, although his brows are bent downwards and he wears an upside-down smile.

“I have plenty of good memories of it. Now that I think about it, the village people only started acting weird once the deluge started. Before that, we were a tight-knit community.”

“Is it worth thinking of the past?” He cuts me off.

His hypocrisy annoys me. He lectures me about the past while he idolizes his memories of Mary. Regardless of my annoyance, I don’t voice it for the fear of upsetting him further.

“I’m sorry if I got a little riled up about it.” He breaks the uncomfortable silence that has wrapped around us. “I’m just so angry about how those tribesmen treated you. You don’t deserve this, Macie.”

“I understand. Fury is natural in a situation like this, but I feel more sadness than anything else.”

“Oh, Macie. Life is truly not fair.”

We continue our walk in silence.

After breakfast, Lucas shows me his toolshed. It’s full of apparatuses I’ve never even heard of. I’ve never realized the world outside my village was so vast and full of new things to experience.

“When you grow older, I’ll show you how to maneuver these tools,” Lucas promises me with a tint of proudness in his eyes. “But for now, let’s leave it at that.”

I am quite upset at the way Lucas infantilizes me, but I understand why he wouldn’t want to show a 12 years old how to work with these dangerous objects. Though, if I don’t have my chores to keep me busy, I can see myself getting bored quite easily.

Lucas leads me to a gigantic room full of bookshelves clad in books, each thicker than the other. In the middle of the chamber, there is a tiny coffee table made from glass surrounded by several leather chairs. The room is arrayed with windows as big as the walls, letting the sun seep into the space. The curtains adorning the windows are colored mint green. There are several alcoves spread thorought the room, along with chaises under them. The carpet is soft, colored ivory just like the walls. I can’t help but marvel at the beauty of this room. Lucas offers me a colorful book with a little girl on the cover. The title is in a language I don’t understand.

“This is the youngest book in my gallery. I bought it a few months ago with the intent of gifting it to a relative’s daughter. It’s good that I haven’t given it away because I think it’ll be just right up your alley.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think I speak this language.”

“Ah, of course. There’s no way you could have learned it in your village.” He slaps his forehead. “I’ll have to teach you one day, or maybe Mary will take on this task after we cure her.”

“Do you have any books in my language?” I ask Lucas, hoping for something that will quiver my future bored state.

“I think I have a few. The language of the forest tribe you lived in is quite forgotten by our society, but there are a few scholars trying to revive it, so to speak.”

“How come you learned it?”

“Pure curiosity.” He answers, full of pride at his ability to speak my language so casually. “Long ago, the forest tribes reigned over the woodland, but the birth of the Twelvemonth Blossom killed many of their settlements, and banished your people into a small area of land. I’ve heard stories about how the might of the Cave Queen took away the flora and the fauna the villagers used to survive, and how they were forced to flee their homeland in search of fertile land and safety. These stories were the thing that made me want to learn your language and explore what was once your land.”

“I’ve never heard about these tales. The village people never told me why I wasn’t allowed to venture out in the wilderness.”

“That’s because these weren’t the stories you’d tell a child.” Lucas laughs. “You see, the violence of the Twelvemonth Blossom knows no bounds. The lives lost to it are countless. I don’t want to frighten you but I can’t defeat it alone. Do not worry, you won’t have to get anywhere near it, you just have to make sure its’ servants don’t cause a ruckus.”

“Servants?”

“They’re sentient flower-like creatures, just like the mother flower, but they’re much more smaller and not at all dangerous.”

“Are they like miniature versions of the Cave Queen?” I seek to quip my thirst for knowledge.

“Oh no, they’re different kinds. Flame lilies, Jade Vines, roses, and orchids are the most common types of flowers we’ll find there. And don’t worry, they’re regular-sized.

“That’s good.” I sigh in relief. “What do I have to do?”

“Mostly just step on the flowers crawling towards you. They’re slow, and they’re not smart enough to pair up, so you just have to keep them at bay. They have the power to trade their life for the Cave Queen’s, so if they get near after I defeated it, they might revive it.”

“I see. I have a pretty important job.” I declare proudly.

“Yes, you do.” Lucas smiles at me.

We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to translate the novel he showed me into my native tongue. It’s a short story about a little girl who gets lost on her way to her grandmother’s house. On her way, she encounters a wolf with human characteristics who tries to trick her into becoming his meal. Quite the dark story. Nightfall comes just as we reach the ending part. Lucas insists on making dinner, leaving the last chapter of the novel untranslated.

For dinner, Lucas catches a wild turkey. I take pleasure in watching Lucas cook. He always seems so concentrated on the task at hand; it’s quite impressive. The wild turkey is just as delicious as the meat of a domesticated animal. It’s a little bit firmer than what I expected but I like it.

Afterward, my night routine continues as yesterday. I take a bath and head for bed. As I sink into nothingness, I hope I can dream of Mary again.

Again, I find myself in a field, seated on the same red picnic blanket, under an oak tree. She notices me and smiles.

“Usually, I visit Lucas during these hours, but I can’t help but choose your company.” She delivers her words softly, almost as if she’s whispering. Her voice is soothing; it calms me like a lullaby.

“Why?” I put forward a simple question, yet it seems to stump her.

“Because I love you.”

“You barely know me.” Confusion makes its way through my veins.

“Why do you think expecting mothers love their unborn children, despite not having met them yet?”

“I don’t know,” I respond sincerely.

“Me neither. It’s just a feeling that comes naturally. I suggest you embrace it as well.”

“But you love Lucas too.”

“Yes, I do, with my whole heart, but in a different way. There’s nothing that can come between the love of a mother and her child.” She laughs in the same way Lucas does. “You look confused, I’ll let you rest tonight. Tomorrow is bound to be a hard day. Just promise me one thing… That you’ll come back alive and well.”

“I promise.”