The Thorn Chaise

Chapter 7

I return to Lucas’ mansion to pack supplies for the trip. The living room is empty. My curiosity gets the better of me so I go to his room to check on him. There he lays, dormant and corpse-like, in his bed. I wonder if he’s asleep, yet I do not approach him. I let him sulk in peace while I get leftovers from the pantry. I pack some clothes, food, and feed for Morning Star. In my head, I’m debating whether to tell Lucas about the trip or not, but the chiefess’ words ring in my head. Maybe Lucas’ presence might upset the tribe since he’s not native to these lands, or maybe he was rude when Esme first took him to the healer. Who knows? Is it worth mulling over something I can’t know right now?

Before I depart, I go to the shed Lucas showed me. Inside, buried under a pile of tools, I find a bow and a set of arrows. Though I have never held a bow before, I take it with me, just in case I need to hunt for food… Or to defend myself.

I check on Lucas again to see if he’s asleep. He is. The sun hides between the horizon as I leave my new home. I follow the path marked on the map through something that looks like the remnants of a swamp. Though most of the land is barren, I can see glimpses of vegetation slowly rising out of their slumber. The lower parts of the shrubbery are greener than the top.

It doesn’t take long before I arrive at a dead end. A boulder as big as a house wedged between two unclimbable hills interrupts my trail. Unsure of what to do, I try to climb the rock, only to fall and hurt my ankle. Luckily, I can still walk on it. The only option left is to go around the hills. I walk until my vision blurs. That’s my cue to rest, yet my instinct tells me to keep going. By now, the moon has settled in the sky, dancing between the stars like a costume-less ballerina.

I notice a suspicious amount of greenery in the far corner of the hill, hidden behind small stones. I understand nature is beginning to thrive again, but I can’t help but think that doesn’t look natural. I advance toward the vegetation and dismount Morning Star. I carefully explore the surface of the plants, only to find the flora is plastic. I touch the fake plants, bending them to my will. Behind them, a small opening in the ground flickers. There must be something inside. I light the lamp I took from Lucas in order to see better. The brightness reveals to me that the hole is not as deep as it looks, so against my better judgment, I jump in. Luckily, it’s just about my size. An adult probably couldn’t fit in here.

The pit is no deeper than my height. Its’ interior looks like a chamber, or a personal office. It’s filled with furniture that looks like it belongs in an upper-class manor. To my right, there’s a bookshelf filled with all types of records, and to my left, there’s a black desk made from oak wood accompanied by a leather armchair. The desk holds a golden lamp. There are documents scattered everywhere. Curious, I search the environment, but all of the documents are in a foreign language. Despite all the negative emotions swimming in my head, I shove as many records into my backpack as I can. I mark this place on the map and exit the hole.

Outside, Morning Star is waiting for me patiently. The revelation of this mysterious office’s existence has given me the energy to continue my journey. My beloved steed seems to have rested as well. I resume my trip around the hill, where I finally find a path toward the red markings. The map leads me through a much healthier forest, seemingly unaffected by the powers of the Twelvemonth Blossom. The air is not as dry, and the hues of the forest appear more vibrant.

All of a sudden, a settlement opens itself before me. Surrounded by wooden fences as girthy as my horse, reaching my neck while riding Morning Star, an endless array of huts lines up before my eyes. They’re angular and simple, yet they seem comfortable to live in. Each house has its own backyard filled with various growing vegetables. I walk around the boundary until I find a massive gate made from oak wood and mud combined masterfully. It is too big for me to move on my own, so I resort to knocking. When no one comes to answer, I knock again, yet the same result presents itself. I suppose they must be sleeping. As a last option, I try to jump over the fence, yet Morning Star cannot manage to leap this high. Desolate, I set up camp outside the entrance of the village and wait. A blurry glimpse of the forest flickers before my eyes, and darkness begins dancing around my surroundings. The moon’s divine light gets dimmer and dimmer until nightfall finally steals me away.

Something tugs at my arm forcefully. Alarmed, I jolt awake full of vigor, skipping the half-asleep part of my routine. I take a quick look around: I’m in an unknown room, and Morning Star is nowhere to be seen. Out of a window, I can see the sun has already risen to its apogee. Next to me, an aged man, probably in his seventies, sits on a chair. The first thing he does upon my awakening is pat my shoulder comfortingly.

“What’s your name?” He coos.

“I’m Mansurah…”

“What a beautiful name. I am named Sarki.” He retreats his hand from my shoulder. “What were you doing outside this late?”

“Where’s Morning Star?” Realization floods my brain as I notice my steed is nowhere to be seen.

“Who?”

“My horse!” I yell, panicked.

“Oh, do not worry, Mansurah. It is in my stables. I had him fed and cleaned.” Sarki smiles at me with warmth in his eyes. His kind demeanor calms me. “Were you abandoned by our city’s gate?" He recommences his questioning.

“No… I came of my own volition. I’m here to find the chief healer.”

“You’re in luck then.” Sarki chuckles. “You just found him.”

I take a better look at him. He’s dressed in white garbs reaching his feet. His sleeves are long and flowy, decorated at the end with golden cuffs. His chest plate is colored green and yellow, forming a cubic pattern around his torso. His shoulders are adorned with sharp epaulets that lift higher than the upper arm, leaving the impression of horns. He wears a crocheted cap, covering his hair. His skin is as dark as obsidian, riddled with a surprising number of wrinkles. His eyes are small but profound, and his full lips are carved into a welcoming smile.

“Three years ago, or so, a family came to you with a cursed daughter.” I’m explaining the story so fast that I can barely understand myself. “You told them to seek the Twelvemonth Blossom and its’ lifeblood. Her husband did just as told, but she hasn’t awakened. There’s something wrong with your treatment.”

“Slow down, Mansurah. I believe you’re talking about Esme Abney and her foreigner family.” He enunciates with calm, miraculously having understood my rant. “Long ago, she visited our tribe with her husband, daughter, and son-in-law. She begged me to unravel the agony that has swallowed her child.” He pauses for a second, as if in pain. “Her daughter… She was cursed by something unbeknownst to the Tsakiya tribe, a tribe that has practiced healing alchemy since the beginning of times.”

“So you couldn’t heal her?” I ask, hoping for a clearer answer.

“I tried every remedy I had, yet to no avail.” Sarki covers his mouth with his creased hand. “The demon, or wizard, or entity that has taken ahold of the woman was too powerful for my competencies. In the end, my only option was to guide them to the Midnight Dweller, or Twelvemonth Blossom, as you call it, the beastly mutant that resides in the cave on the outskirts of the forest. Its’ milk is fueling her little society inside the cave; every single creature inside relies on it for life, so I thought it would help the girl too.”

“The milk? Not the blood?” I stare at him wide-eyed.

“The milk is the lifeblood of that cave. There would be no life without it.” Sarki tells me with a nonchalant flair. Though his calmness is infectious, I can’t help but panic at the revelation.

“Where can I find the milk?”

“It’s settled at the core of the great Twelvemonth Blossom.”

“So, the pistil?” I ask him, and Sarki nods.

“Affirmative, Mansurah. Once broken, the core will begin dripping with the milk.”

“That’s going to be a problem… We already defeated the Twelvemonth Blossom; except we took its’ blood instead of its’ milk.”

Sarki stares at me with eyes as wide as circles, surprised we managed to defeat the mutant. After a moment of silence, he opens his mouth:

“I doubt that will be a problem. You can just return to its’ lair and collect the milk. If you need help, I can send someone to escort you.” Sarki smiles tenderly in an attempt to comfort me.

“I appreciate it, but there’s no need. I should probably return home before Lucas finds out I’m gone.”

“Do you still keep in contact with Esme Abney?” He asks me with a tint of embarrassment in his voice.

“Actually, I’ve never met her. All I know about her is from stories.”

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. She’s a kind woman. I must admit I’m quite worried since I haven’t heard from her for quite a while. I assumed you knew something about her.”

“Uhm…” I stutter. “I’ve heard she lives in an old mansion. She got separated from her husband.”

“That’s good to hear. Her spouse is quite the bastard.” Sarki laughs to himself. “If you ever meet Esme, tell her Sarki misses her.”

“I will, sir! Thank you for everything.” I head for the exit.

“At least stay for breakfast.” He pleads with me, but I turn down his offer. I must be back home before Lucas awakens.

Sarki leads me to the stables, where Morning Star is grazing peacefully. I gather all my belongings and mount my steed, setting off towards Lucas’ mansion, but not before greeting Sarki and thanking him again.

As I exit the town, it starts to rain heavily. Multiple dark clouds hover the region, but a particularly atrocious congregation of angry clouds sit menacingly above Sarki’s home. The deluge seems to grow stronger the more I back away. This rainfall reminds me of the one from back in my village. Unsettled, I command Morning Star to speed up and slowly leave the tribe in the distance.

Morning Star seems quite happy after the night he spent at Sarki’s stables. He has no problem speeding up more and more until it seems like we’re flying. At this rate, we’ll arrive home faster than anticipated. I follow the path I took to reach the tribe, yet it seems to be blocked by fallen branches. With all the momentum he gained from running so recklessly, Morning Star manages to jump over the collapsed branches, but in doing so, he injures his hoof. We are forced to camp out in order to rest and treat Morning Star’s injury. Before we can continue our journey, the sun has already set.

We return home at the apex of midnight. Lucas is sitting on the porch, on a rocking chair, wearing a tired expression.

“Where the hell were you?” He asks angrily.

“I visited the Tsakiya healer! He told me where we went wrong! Please listen-“

“How dare you sneak off like that? Don’t you realize how worried I was?!” He yells at me with a voice I’ve never heard before. “Just go to your room. We’ll talk tomorrow…” Lucas clenches his fists so tight that I can see small drops of blood dripping from his hands.

Not wanting to anger him further, I do as I’m told and head to my room. I don’t see this as a punishment for my room is so elegant and large, yet I feel as if I deserve to be penalized for angering Lucas. I get dressed in my pajamas and seek comfort in my bed. Before I know it, my consciousness departs to the land of sleep.

“You’ll have to excuse Lucas…” Mary’s soft voice rings out throughout the room. “He just… gets like that sometimes.”

“I don’t like it, but I feel like I deserve it.”

“You do, but we’ll always love you, no matter what you do.” She coos.

“Did your mother know Sarki?” I ask her, hoping she has the answers I’m looking for.

“Who? Oh, the healer! My mother used to gush about him when I was little. They truly forged a special bond. They bonded over their love for witchcraft. That’s as far as my knowledge of their relationship goes.” Mary pats me on the head. “To be fair, I don’t know much about my mother and her affairs, but I know that Sarki was special.”

I don’t remember anything about my mother either. She’s nothing but a blurry figure in my head. I regret this, yet I don’t know if there’s any way to fix it.

“Have you ever met him?” Mary asks me.

“I have today. He seemed like a kind man, maybe a little too old, but kind.”

“Too old?” Mary bursts out laughing. “Ah, you really are adorable. There’s no such thing as someone being too old. The ones that live to these ages are lucky.” Mary takes a break from laughing. “I wish I met him too. I was asleep when mother and father took me to him for a consult.”

“You’ll meet him one day! Now that I know what went wrong with your treatment, we can wake you up!” I enthusiastically cheer.

“I do hope that happens… And I do hope mother was wrong about her prophecies.”