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I shook my head, refusing to back down. I didn’t want to believe that he was right, didn’t want to admit it. I swallowed and forced myself to speak, asking instead, “What was that creature doing here anyway?”
“I don't know.” He replied, his gaze shifting to the water once more. “They don't usually wander this far, sticking closely to-“
He glanced back at me, but the look on his face had changed to one of indifference again, “It doesn't matter. You have two days.”
Slipping away back into the trees, bathed in darkness, the Goblin King left me next to the waters of the cenote. The soft hum of the trees ringing in my ears again, the fireflies’ light flickering as they danced. Leaving me with even more questions than before.
ChapterTwenty
Ihad managed to find a place to crawl into to sleep, the roots of a tree creating a natural shelter. Curling and twisting together to form a small hut. The earth was covered in moss and dirt, but it was comfortable. Creating a small sleeping space, the spongy earth smelling like home. I missed home, I missed the garden, the cottage. Even Rothnia and its people.
“Soon you’ll be able to go home.” I reassured myself. “Soon all of this will be over and you will never have to think about it again. You’ll be able to sleep in your own bed, and forget, as if none of this has happened.”
There was no point in bothering with any kind of fire tonight, fear of other creatures; one possibly more terrifying than the incubus, finding me. I felt so dirty, far more than I had with Kaston. Even after all of that, this left me with a sour taste. A disgust I could not get rid of even after I had risked bathing again in the waters, in some kind of hope that it would wash some of the feeling off.
But the way its hands and its tail felt on my skin had been burned into my mind. Its cold and clammy skin under my palms, its tongue as it had licked my exposed flesh. A shudder coursed through me as I laid my head down on the mossy earth. Again I had found myself drawn to the Goblin King. Again my body reacted in a way I could not explain. I could not tell what my natural reaction had been and what had been the magic of the incubus.
Sleep invaded my thoughts, allowing them to drift off. My mind was finally able to relax. But one single image, his face, his eyes- they were ingrained in my head even as I fell into slumber. I dreamed of him again. But he was not as I see him now. He was younger, he was thinner. He was not bulked up, so unlike how he was now. So much younger, years younger. But you could not mistake him.
The dream played in my mind, it was as if I was floating above. Watching the pair as they sat under a large oak tree, in a small courtyard.
He lounged in the branch above her, an apple in his hand. He tossed it up a couple of times before catching it. Taking a single bite before tossing it again. She sat at the base of the tree, a book in her hands. She was a mere child, possibly six or seven. Her dark green dress was tucked under her feet, her long dark hair had been braided back out of her face. But it was her bright green eyes; focused on the text of the book.
They sat in silence, refusing to acknowledge each other, he tossed the apple again but failed to catch it this time. It’d fallen far outside his reach on the branch as he stretched for it, almost falling himself. He watched it as it fell toward the earth. Hitting her head- before landing in her lap, the juices staining the pages. While their mouths moved, there were no words that could be understood. She stood up as she held the apple, his face had gone angry as he sat up on the branch before hopping down. He lunged forward and yanked the book from her hands.
The quarrel between them grew as they exchanged words. The apple that had once been clutched in her hand, found its way flying across between them. It soared true, hitting him in the face. The look he gave her was one of loathing, dangling the book in front of her as she reached for it. But he tossed it to the ground, taking the toe of his boot and kicking it across the grass. They watched as it fluttered, the pages falling out and scattering. The book landed in a puddle, and as she watched the words leak away from the pages, the only words that were clear, the only words that were heard. “I hate you.” She had turned and ran, tears in her eyes as she left the courtyard. He stood glaring after her, arms crossed.
The image faded away as I felt the warmth of the sun on my face, the sound of songbirds accompanying the morning. For a brief moment my mind wondered if it had all been a dream, that I had never left Rothnia. I was home safely, in my bed. The sound of Nona would trickle in shortly, signaling that it was time to rise. But I awoke to a bed of white flowers, the grass and clover covered in dew and the trees above swishing in the breeze.
My bed of mossy earth and tree roots had cradled me as I slept, keeping me safe. Crawling out of the roots, the flowers spread farther than I had imagined. They had not been there the night before, I was sure of it. Not that I could remember or had seen anyway. But I had been so tired and so ready for sleep that I probably had missed them. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. My mind was a muddled mess enough already.
But I’d never seen anything like this before, the ground was covered in them. Blanketed in white flowers and green clover, they stretched on and on. The palm of my hand tickled, peeking down as I pulled it back to my chest. A white flower bloomed in the clover before me. Sprouting up toward the sun. I watched it as it grew from the dirt, its petals stretching out to bathe in it. I had never seen something like that before, it was strange.
What the hell was happening? What the fuck was going on?
I felt the sense of despair weighing down on me days ago as I looked out from atop the cliff, my eyes had met a desolate sight. The trees that were brown and lifeless, and the prairies that were barren with colorless grasses swaying in the wind. It was as if the land had lost its soul, and with every passing moment, it had died a little more.
But as I ventured deeper into this strange place, something miraculous happened. The land began to come alive. It was as if an invisible force was breathing life back into the earth. I felt a stirring within me, something unfamiliar and unrecognizable. It was a small spark, a tiny ember, burning bright in the pit of my stomach. No longer was the land dying; it was alive, and it was thriving. It was pulsating with renewed energy. It was like it had awoken from a deep slumber.
My confusion and lack of understanding only grew as I watched the world around me transform. My own transformation, my time here. I couldn't help but wonder, what had caused this change? What secrets did this place hold? I scanned the area around me once again, taking in the beauty of the forest in the warm glow of the sun's rays. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves rustling with the sound of magic. Above me, birds chittered and sang, welcoming the dawn of a new day. The beams from the rising sun highlight the dust and magic of the forest, bathing everything in its warm glow.
Sunrise.
I’d slept past sunrise, I hadn’t done that in ages, but it was not like I felt refreshed either. I felt far more tired than I had before. It was like each night I slept here, the more and more exhausted I felt, the more I wanted to just rest and never wake up. Maybe this was the Goblin King’s way of keeping me at bay. Exhaust me so I never make it.
But I would not, could not let him win. Yes, I knew I was stubborn, I always had been. I acknowledged it. And it would be my stubbornness and my will to prove him wrong that would help me with this, that would get me where I needed to go. A memory from the well in my mind, the ones of Nona sprang forward. Slowly more of her had come to me, more of my life with her.
Somehow I’d forgotten.
There was one time Nona had asked me to wash up. I had just come in from outside, having been on another one of my adventures. I was covered in mud from head to toe, I’d fallen on the banks of the river. And all my efforts to get out clean had gone wrong. By the time I had made it into the cottage most of the mud had crusted in my hair and on my dress.
The climb up the muddy banks and the walk home had exhausted me and all I wanted to do was go to bed. She’d told me, insisted actually, that I needed to take a bath before dinner and I refused. The pout I wore that day would have caused an apple to turn, that’s how sour she said my face had been. I remember her voice, the dictation in it as she said. “Child, if you do not wipe that look off your face, and get in that bath now, so help me I will force you into it myself.”
I’d crossed my arms across my chest and pushed my lip out farther. But it had no effect on her. She looked at me once more and said, “I will not take that bullheadedness anymore, pout all you want. But you will get in that damn tub.Now.”
She pointed to the copper basin with the water she had warmed up for me. The soap and wash cloth sitting on a small table beside it. It wasn’t a large tub, taking up much of the floor in front of the fireplace when we did take it out. But it was big enough for us to bathe in.She had started muttering under her breath again about something as she went to retrieve a towel- after I stripped off my dress and climbed into the water. The caked mud on my skirt cracking and falling to the floor. Picking up the washcloth to scrub what mud remained and washing my hair.
I could hear her in the bedroom, muttering something about my father and stubbornness. I’d felt my hopes rise as my heart fluttered, excited to learn more and ask the burning questions that I wanted to know. If I took after him, what he was like, was he kind and considerate. I wanted to know everything about him. Because it was all I had to connect with him. I remembered nothing about him, I knew he died, but I did not know much else.
