Page 6 of Curse of Immortality
“Shhh.” Stretching her hand out, Rose shushed Maeve to get her to stop singing. No one ever visited them out here. Acute worry made her spine straighten as the light came closer, confirming her fear that it was people carrying torches. There were many of them and they were moving closer at a fast pace. Unsure what to do, Rose felt sweat form on her forehead. She remembered this scenario all too well. Last time it had been torches carried by a different group of people, but a mob of people was dangerous to Earthens no matter what village they came from.
Rose couldn’t understand how they had found out about her abilities. She had last been to town four days ago and although she was well aware that some of the people probably found her strange, she was always so quiet and careful not to draw attention to herself. Never had she offered to heal anyone.
With the town being at least an hour away, she must have stirred up suspicion amongst the humans to make them march all the way out here and that could only mean one thing: the time which she had feared more than anything had come–they wanted someone to burn.
“Stay inside and hide,” she told the girls with a shaking voice before she walked outside, shutting the door behind her.
Trying to hide her fear, she kept her voice friendly as she tried to calm down the angry crowd. But her words were no use. They kept moving closer, yelling accusations and cursing at her.
“Please, I haven’t done anything! I would never hurt anyone!” Rose defended herself and held up her hands to stop them from coming closer. But when they were within arm’s reach, they did not forcibly grab her and tie her with rope as she feared they would. Instead, a short man with a long dirty beard grabbed her outstretched hands and threw her down on the wet and dirty ground.
Confused, Rose looked up at the mob surrounding the cottage.
“We’re here for the witches,” an old woman said with a sadistic smile on her wrinkly face. Rose stared in horror as the woman pulled a cloth from her pocket and lit it on fire using her torch.
“No!” Rose yelled and hurried to her feet before she was shoved down into the mud once again. “Don’t!” she cried.
The woman didn’t hesitate before she hurried to the door that a man held open and threw the burning cloth inside.
In desperation, Rose fought to get up. Ignoring the taste of mud in her mouth, she screamed with terror as others threw burning sticks through the window.
“They’re just children,” she cried and felt a pure sense of desperation. This had happened before and the last time it was her parents that lost their lives. The sound of banging fists on the door tore Rose apart and she wailed when she caught a glance of Althea and Maeve clinging to each other before the whole house lit up into flames, devouring the girls inside.
Her only thought was that she would rather die with them than live to grieve them. Sobs escaped Rose as she got to her feet and fought to get past the mob, but the people wouldn’t budge. No matter how much she hit, cried, and fought, there was nothing she could do to get through the wall of angry villagers celebrating what they saw as a victory. Falling to the ground in defeat, Rose curled herself into a small ball and sobbed as the laughter and cheering from the mob grew louder and the screams from the girls died out.
“You’re a failure. Did you think you could protect them from us?” someone mocked her, and it silenced the crowd. Rose’s heart skipped a beat when she opened her eyes to see that everyone was standing in a circle around her and her former best friend. Anne stepped forward and stopped in front of her. She didn’t look a day older than the last time she’d last seen her. Still a beautiful young woman with angry eyes, she hissed, “You couldn’t save my mother, nor could you save my daughters.” As if her tongue was a dagger, every word from Anne cut deep as she hissed, “You are a failure and a fraud. How could you think that I couldeverlove you?”
“Please, Anne, I kept them hidden for all this time. I love them and I would have given my life to save them; I would have died for them,” Rose whimpered in her defense, but it didn’t stop Anne from walking closer and spitting on Rose’s dress.
“You are a witch, and the world is better off without you,” she said with an icy gaze in her eyes and her lips pressed into a fine line.
Frightened, Rose felt strong hands pull her to a pole, where someone tied her hands to it. She should scream and cry, but no words escaped her trembling lips.
The villagers were booing and cursing all around her, and amid the crowd, Anne stood with a large torch and a hateful expression on her face. Without saying a word, she walked to stand in front of Rose again. Keeping intense eye contact, she stabbed her torch against Rose’s body and smiled with satisfaction when her clothes caught fire.
The last thing she saw was Anne standing in front of the fire, her face orange from the large flames. “I could never love you,” she said again before the flames were the only thing Rose could see and feel.
Waking with a gasp, Rose sat up and saw that she was on her terrace with wet blankets surrounding her from her excessive sweating.
She placed a hand on her wet forehead and tried to steady her breathing while reminding herself that it had only been a dream.
For minutes, she listened carefully for any sound of people approaching, but there was nothing. All she heard was the heavy breathing from Althea and Maeve sleeping peacefully higher up in the tree on their terrace.
It had been nine years since the girls had come to live with their aunt and while the girls had grown into beautiful teenagers, Rose’s constant nightmares, and worries about losing her nieces, had created deep lines that made her look twenty years older. Althea and Maeve were used to Rose waking in the middle of the night in a sweat and gasping for air. It was the same type of dream that had tormented her throughout the years. Sometimes the fear of having nightmares once again prevented her from falling asleep, but as she lay under the clear night sky with hundreds of stars to count, she reminded herself that being this far out in the forest and away from civilization, the girls were safe. And yet, this time, the dream had felt more vivid than usual, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was an omen of something awful to come.
Unable to fall back to sleep, Rose climbed down the tree and into the cottage. The sky was still dark and offered no light, other than the sparkles of the stars. She had only just lit one candle when she froze, and the sweating started once again. With her eyes glued to the small orange flame, she had just lit, flashes from her nightmare came back to Rose – the terrifying sight of Althea and Maeve burning inside the house had her reach for the back of a chair for support. The candle’s flame flickered and now showed Anne standing in front of Rose with hatred in her eyes watching her burn. These images had lived inside her head and had haunted Rose for years. Forcefully blinking her eyes, she snapped herself out of it.
Knowing that it’s much easier to distract your mind from the thoughts you try to keep at bay when your hands are busy, Rose began baking bread and cleaning the house – just like she did on many sleepless nights.
“Good morning,” Maeve said with a yawn and rubbed her tired eyes when she crawled down the tree a few hours later.
Rose had been aggressively mixing berries in a bowl and became so startled by Maeve’s voice that she nearly dropped the bowl.
“How long have you been up?” Althea asked as she stepped down from the last branch.
Rose looked at her nieces and blinked her tired eyes three times when she noticed it was already light outside. “A little while.”
Fourteen-year-old Althea approached her aunt, who was now a little shorter than herself and gently took the bowl out of her hands. “You look tired, Aunt Rose. Why don’t you go and rest while Maeve and I take care of breakfast?”
