Upstairs in her room, Charin examined Sophia for the second time, but found nothing physical that could have caused the latest fit. But with decades of experience in the local hospital, he was no fool. He could tell, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, that Sophia was no ordinary mage, and that Delta was hiding something from him.
“I don’t know why you see all those visions,” he said to her. “It could be that your lost memories are returning.”
“No, it doesn’t feel that way.” Sophia shook her head. “They are just so sudden and vivid. And that only started to happen after…”
Sophia’s words trailed into silence. Again, he could tell that she almost let something slip. “Listen,” he began with a degree of austerity, “I’m not with the queen. You can be honest with me. I don’t care about your past, or who you are, but if you aren’t truthful, I can’t help.”
She returned only silence, and turned the other way with pursed lips. Clearly, it wasn’t up to her.
Charin turned his attention to Delta. She, like a hawk, observed them from the corner. He stood up and went to face her directly. “I want to help you. But you must let her speak the truth.”
Delta’s icy aura was menacing. Charin found her shadowed face especially disturbing. He could not see her eyes, but he could tell that she stared at him in an equally terrifying way. He knew that she had the eyes of a killer, even if he couldn’t see them. Still, that didn’t startle him. Nalki was in the back, ready to jump to action.
At last, after an exchange of silence, Delta unfolded her arms—and then proceeded to push back her hood. Just as Charin imagined, her emotionless grey eyes were exactly like a merciless killer’s.
“If you’re so hellbent to know, then I’ll tell you. However…” ice rapidly expanded in the ground around her. “One word outside the tavern, and you’re dead.”
Gamma went by Delta’s side and put a hand in her shoulder. “Calm yourself. They are trustworthy people. Charin personally took care of Araspeth back in the day.”
She, too, pushed back her hood. There wasn’t much point with those two around. Charin was surprised to see Meira after all those years, and everything suddenly made sense. “I knew your voice was familiar,” Charin said, “It’s good to see you again!”
They shook hands. “Likewise,” Meira said with a smile. “If I could trust anyone with this, it’d be you. So, I’ll tell you everything about Sophia. You have actually encountered her once before as Olive.”
He recalled Olive, but the statement deeply confused him. Gamma, alongside Delta, spent the next hour to explain.
***
Wren, Olten and Pria spent sometime examining the strange symbols etched alongside the cavern walls. It didn’t take very long for the studious Pria to recognize them as part of the ancient and mysterious symbol language.
“I remember this symbol,” she said, tracing over it. “It’s called
tah, and it’s part of the
sesca set, which usually encodes... movement related functions… I think.”
“Like I said, we can look at this all we want,” Wren said, “but we won’t understand it.”
They all sunk into thought and silence when a silvery light rushed inside the room. “Perhaps, I can help.”
When Pria turned around, she saw Yuuna standing by the entrance. “You’re… her,” Pria said, “the one from the cliffs…”
Olten was staring her way, but even more Wren, who had never seen anyone quite like her. The silver aura emanating from her being was captivating—mesmerising. Yuuna stepped forward inside the room.
“If you must know what this is,” she said, looking up to the symbols, “then I’ll tell you. It’s a spell made to force the fragment out of its place. The fragment of Gaia must be removed by those truly in love with our earth. We made it that way out of protection and wisdom—not that your queen cared. They made this brutal spell to rip it out.”
“You seem powerful,” said Olten. “Can you… not get it back?”
“I’m a spirit. I alone am not that powerful.”
“A spirit? You look like a normal everyday human to me…”
“No,” Pria shook her head. “I’ve read all about the mythical spirits. She is no human. In fact, she is the mother of humanity. We take after her because we’re her creation.”
“Someone is well read, I see,” Yuuna smiled warmly. “You’re a bright one.”
“Now hold on just a minute!” Olten pointed at her. “You’re telling me that she is our ancient Mom?”
Pria slapped her face hard. “You’re such an idiot. That’s such a stupid way to see it.”
“But if it’s the case,” interjected Wren, “then she must tell the truth. Melina really did remove the fragment. She betrayed us all!”
“And I… helped her,” muttered Pria with a gaze downcast. The nasty thoughts swamping her mind for the past twenty four hours re-surfaced. “I’m responsible for everything happening here. I should have never fallen for that trap. I should have never killed that person. I should have never come here. I should have never become a mage. I should have never—“
Pria was suddenly hugged. When she looked up, it was Yuuna. “Stop this madness,” she said to Pria. “It isn’t your fault. You had no such intent.”
“But I—“
Then just as suddenly, her mind was flashed with the image of a farm basked in the sunset bloom. Her dear mother stood there in the grass alongside her, muddied by the day’s work, but still smiling despite the hardship. “This is where your heart is,” she heard Yuuna’s voice inside the memory. “You never meant for anything more.”
When her vision returned, Yuuna was smiling at her sincerely.
“I just want to know one thing,” muttered Pria, “Who exactly did I...?”
“Sophia, princess of the Southern Continent, Queen Cassandra’s and King Anicetus’ daughter.”
Pria’s eyes went wide. “I… knew she looked familiar!”
“I thought the same,” said Wren, “but her appearance wasn’t quite right, and it just didn’t seem possible overall.”
“They banished her long ago,” Yuuna added, “stripping her memories and even altering her face. King Anicetus found it unacceptable that she couldn’t perform magic.”
Wren laughed through his nose. “I see the royals are rotten over yonder as well.”
“Just like our queen, apparently,” said Olten.
Pria said nothing. She just stared at the ground again before Yuuna put her hands on Pria’s shoulders. “You did not kill her. Sophia is alive. If it’ll bring you closure, I can take you to her.”
***
Even though Sophia knew her own story, listening to it again, it felt so unreal and unbelievable. She looked at her own hands, hands that did not belong to her, but to this Penelope person. How, and why, she just couldn’t fathom.
“I understand,” Charin said. “Apparently, I’ve been put in the middle of a seemingly impossible story.”
“I felt it the entire time, but I just didn’t want to believe it,” said Nalki as he looked at Sophia, “that you were this Olive lady. I could tell from your eyes.”
“In any case, I have some food for thought.” Charin turned back to Sophia. “I will need you to try to perform magic again. But you will need to be more gentle with yourself. Your new body might just be rejecting your usual methods.”
Sophia didn’t understand. Method? To begin with, she never properly performed magic. There was no method. The only method she ever knew was brute force.
She went back to the floor cross legged, the same stance Blackberry taught her all those years ago. She closed her eyes and felt her network activate. Her heart, something sometimes mages called the “furnace”, overflowed with Ether—even more so than her “old” one.
She focused, and focused, and focused. Then, out of nowhere, she heard the whoosh of the ocean. When she opened her eyes, she found her self in the chair of a small wooden home, who’s walls were painted a gentle cream white. And right there across her was a shadow, playing the violin.
Its melody was in perfect rhythm with the waves. Sophia was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of peace, and belonging. The warm, summer sun bloomed around the windows of this simple home. And outside, she could see the ocean, sparkling silver.
The violin cried with sadness and happiness all at the same time. High, low, then high again in the musical scales, perfect in rhythm with the sea—the beautiful southern, crystal sea.
Yes, southern. She was from the south! The violin concluded its song, and the shadow rested it atop the small table. The memory was ending. She could feel it. Before it did, Sophia mustered her strength and said, “Who are you? Just who?”
And the shadow, at last, answered, “I am you, your other self.”
The memory faded and Sophia returned to the real world. When she opened her eyes, she was enveloped in a strange aura of light that quickly destabilised and shattered into splinters that rose and faded.
They were all staring at her. Delta was the quickest to break out of her trance. “You!” she shouted. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t… know.”
“I’ve never seen Penelope do that!” shouted Delta. “This is it! This must be the key. You will try again, and you will do it, no matter what it takes!”
“B-but—“
“No buts! On your stance, now!”
Meira intervened and put herself between them. “That’s enough. You won’t get it out of her by force.”
Sharp icicles grew around Delta, even her eyelashes frosted white as she gave her subordinate the death glare. “Get out of my way right this instant.”
The threat did not waver Meira’s expression. She stayed put and said, “Loosing our composure and acting irrational is the last thing we want.”
Delta stared at her for a while longer. When it was clear that she wouldn’t step out of the way, she stomped her foot and froze Meira in a pillar of ice she pushed aside. Sophia crawled back as Delta, enveloped in icy steam, matched towards her.
Sophia crawled and crawled, but eventually had her back against a wall. Delta approached and grabbed her by the throat. “I’ll force it out of you. Glow, now. Or face a second death.”
She genuinely tried, but could not summon whatever that previous aura was. Her vision rapidly darkened as she desperately gasped for oxygen. Then, when she was about to fade, Delta released her grip and let Sophia crash on the floor.
Delta stared at her as she coughed in pain, then turned her back and stormed out of the room. Meira released herself with a wind spell and chased right after her.
Charin immediately rushed to her side. “You’re okay. Don’t worry.”
But she wasn’t okay, not one bit, and she doubted she’d ever be. She doubted she’d feel the level of peace from that dream, now faraway in a past long lost across an ocean she both knew and not.
***
Meira found Delta in front of a frozen lake, slumped beside the frosted trunk of a tree. Without fear, she walked forth and drew closer to her old friend, whom she had never seen lash out the way she did.
“You approach me,” said Delta with her back, “even though you now know my darker side.”
“I’ve always felt it. You’ve been holding something inside you for far too long. It’s no wonder it ruptured out in the middle of desperation. Let it out already. You can tell me, I promise—no matter what it is.”
“You won’t ever see me the same way if I do.”
“It all has to do with Penelope, doesn’t it?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Try me, then,” Meira dared her. “Just do it.”
So, with her back still turned against her old friend, Delta began the story she had hid.
***
I wasn’t always against the monarchy and their tyranny. I was not only in favour of them, but a part of them. I was a military mage—a general for Cassandra’s army with my very own special unit. We had a very simple name…
The Fire. That was because I only recruited very talented fire mages. Together, we were literal fire. Our enemies feared us for the devastating damage we could cast.
We commited many atrocities I’d rather not remember. I’ve many pictures stained with blood and flames seared deep inside my mind. I don’t remember any faces though, only that I took far too many lives.
The targets didn’t matter. So long as our queen set us a mission, I lead my unit into battle and committed to what we had to do. It was all for the country. “For peace and harmony—for the country! For the
patrida!” Cassandra often said. Beautiful, but fake words. It’s the same fakery Melina sells to her people. It’s the talk of false queens and kings. The words that made spirits hate us… even Yuuna, the mother of all humanity.
Not that this mattered to me back then. My duty was my life. I lived with a sword, fire and the determination to obliterate anything or anyone that came our way. I envisioned that I’d retire as an honorary member of the military and live my twilight years in peace, knowing I’d done my part for my country—my people.
But that’s not what happened. It all changed after a mission was assigned to us. We had intel that a village in the countryside was conspiring against Cassandra and the government. They were only about a thousand of them—far from a threatening number. Cassandra laughed at it. She couldn’t imagine that they’d even make as much as a scratch to her big army.
It all made no difference though. Small, big, medium? Traitors were all equal in the eyes of the law.
“Execute them,” she commanded. “Leave no man, child or woman standing.”
As with everything else, her wish was my command. We were assigned the job because we were quick, devastating and very showy. A big and demonic fire that consumed those who turned against the state sent a pretty clear message to the masses.
I took my unit and we set out on horseback. Soon as the village came to view, and those people heard the galloping, they sounded the bells and gathered a small army of their own. It was surprisingly diverse. Water, wind, fire and earth mages. You know, classics. But they had some aces up their sleeves. The four lightning mages really surprised me. Lightning is no easy magic style to master. It requires the combination of far too elements. Indeed, I never even considered it. I took them for foolish villagers with foolish dreams.
They sniped at us with the lightning from afar while there was still distance. Lighting traveled much farther than our fire. Not that it scared us or anything. We whipped the horses and marched forward even as lightning struck left and right.
Fortunately, we were agile, and with minimal casualties, we got close enough to go on the offensive. We made the formation and shot
The Fire, a collective attack with a namesake, where the entire unit gathers and synchronously conjures a massive fireball.
It enveloped them, and their village. All the residents appeared to die an instant and pain free death because the number of attacks just… stopped. But we had to be sure no man was left standing, so we patrolled the streets, even as they burned in our fire and flames.
The ash and the heat didn’t bother me. I was used to this sort of thing. We searched but the fire was getting denser and more intense as it fueled itself with the wooden homes. It’d eat us as well had we stayed. I commanded everyone to evacuate, and we did.
That’s when something rather strange happened. I somehow got lost. When I looked to my left and right, I was by myself, surrounded by an inferno threatening to swallow me at any moment’s notice. I didn’t, and still don’t understand, how or when I got cut off from the others. But such situations require a calm mind.
And calm, I stayed. I navigated them with the full belief that I would exit unscathed, even if caked in ash. That’s when I heard a cry… a baby’s cry. I turned around and found a small infant by the doorstep of a burning home. It was a shock. How did an infant this small get there? The door behind her was closed, and as far as I could see, no mother was around.
Not that it mattered much. The logical step was to leave her there. A minute more would be enough to end her misery.
Though just as I was about to turn the horse around, my muscles refused. They trembled, and my heart raced faster than it had in the battle itself. The flames around me continued to rage. I had to make a decision.
I took her with me. But I didn’t join the others. I couldn’t risk seeing them with a baby on my arms. There was only one place it could have come from. So, I took another route to the capital, and hid myself inside the safety of my home.
It was a strange night that followed. I had no idea how to care for a baby. It was frustrating, and so sudden. The strangest thing is how I never, not even once, seemed to regret it. I had already resolved to raise her as my own. I named her that very night because I needed to call her something. I called her Penelope. There wasn’t any particular meaning to it. I just liked it, and it worked well enough.
As soon as she finally fell asleep, I rushed to report back to Cassandra’s castle. I burned myself and told the guards that someone in the village ambushed and took me away from the others, and that I eventually fought back and regained my freedom. It was the only way to avoid any suspicion. It hurt, but everything had a price.
They congratulated me for my work and wit. I thanked them, and requested a few days of leave to have my wounds healed. That was of course an excuse to save time so I could come up with a proper plan for Penelope. I couldn’t hide her forever.
I hid in my home for a few days with her. I had to make sure nobody was aware of her existence to reduce the chance of anyone drawing a link. Then, once I felt enough time passed, I reported to the government that someone abandoned her in my doorstep in the middle of the night. They wanted to take her from me, but I didn’t let them. I used every connection I had to have her legally registered as an adopted child.
It all worked out. But I quickly came to realize that I couldn’t go back to my unit. Penelope needed constant attention as a tiny infant. I was well off due to my position and I had plenty of savings, so I left the military, sold my expensive home, and went to buy a smaller and much more humble one. I could live for decades with what I had.
I’ll never understand that decision. But the word enchantment does come to mind often when I try to. I was enchanted by Penelope, and I raised her all by myself. It was hard and it had its ups and downs, but I never felt regret. I loved watching her reach milestone after milestone.
Our home had a small fireplace to keep us warm. I always started the fire with my magic. But when Penelope was about three, she just laughed and shot a small ball of fire as if it were nothing. I was shocked, not just because fire is the hardest style to master, not just because she did it without a single lesson and at the age of three, but because I had somehow convinced myself that she wasn’t a mage.
Yet, there she was, juggling with fireballs. Her third year of life turned out to be the most challenging. I had to spend every waking minute of the day to make sure she wouldn’t set anything on fire. The child had immense talent, and I taught her. By the age of six, she was a master of the style. Comfortable, swift and natural. It was honestly terrifying. I didn’t want to imagine what she would be like as an adult.
I honestly feared that I was raising some kind of monster. But that fear was extinguished when at the age of nine, she returned home with a very grateful elderly lady. “She saved me,” she said with a giant smile. “Bandits tried to take everything I had, but she took down all three by herself as if it were nothing. She is amazing. You must be proud!”
Yes, I really was. I was proud of Penelope. She had become my whole world. I had high hopes for her. Her early teens were hard because she was always out looking for some kind of trouble. At some point, she was constantly out, always returning at night just to sleep and eat.
It didn’t really worry me. She looked capable of handling herself. She no longer needed me as much as she once did, so I rejoined the military, and my own life retook the colour of adventure.
It truly looked as if I had reached peak happiness. But then, one night, on her seventeenth birthday, Penelope never returned. Sleepless, I searched for days, then weeks, but I could not trace her. The only clue I received was from a local—that she had been seen in the mountains near by. I turned every rock there in a search, but I could find no trace of her.
She had gone—and I feared because she somehow figured out who I really was, and what my unit did to her parents. I never told Penelope that we weren’t related by blood, but she was smart. My lies wouldn’t be enough to conceal the truth.
Penelope grew into a kind but fierce woman. In contrast, I was a monster who did Cassandra’s dirty words. The thought that Penelope’s love for me turned into hatred and disgust consumed me. Most nights, I was haunted by nightmares, where she stood right there in front of me, accusing me of my sins.
It nearly drove me insane, and then sick. I was disgusted with myself. I could feel those accusations in every bone. I was a monster—through and through! When I went and looked myself in the mirror, I suddenly had these antlers. My true colors had come to light.
I escaped in the mountains Penelope was last seen and lived off anything that’d come my way. But I didn’t last very long. Illness overtook me one stormy night. I curled inside a cavern, convinced that I’d finally die. I only wished for one last chance to see Penelope, just to tell her a simple sorry.
And then, right there from the darkness, a red eyed fox came forth. “You have lived a life full of sin,” she said, “but I present you with the ultimate chance to atone—a path to righteousness—one Penelope has already walked.”
I didn’t understand. But I was in. Kori told me everything. About Kurai, about his grand plan, about the queen, about the fragments—and about how Penelope attempted to put it all to an end herself—just to have her soul eaten by that shadowy monster. She had her body preserved just in case. But in reality, she was gone. That monster killed her.
That’s how our society started, really. It was the path to stop this impossible, millennia old story, and to set everything right. My only real chance to atone.
***
The frosty wind blew when Delta finished her story. “Penelope was my everything,” she said. “But she is no longer here. I thought that I’d have no problem choking Sophia. She is not Penelope. She just looks like her. Yet…” Delta finally turned around, and showed a face full of tears, “doing what I did killed me inside. It hurt so bad. I’m so sorry.”
Meira gave her a hug. “We’re in this together. But please, no more force—it helps nobody. We need to be patient. And I know that your true self isn't a tyrant. You didn't find Penelope, Penelope found you, and for good reason.”
Winner : February Poetry
Winner: 4th Contest Feb
Winner: 4th Contest August
Winner: June Flash Fiction
