Page 64 of Tales of Fire and Embers

“Ansgar?” she replied with softness, making me turn to her, chasing the smile I thought I heard in her voice.

“Thank you,” I only uttered, though my heart pleaded to say so much more, ask so many questions, and tell her about these new feelings and emotions I’d discovered, that her presence had awoken in me.

“It’s okay,” she responded, but her voice hid a struggle, she too had more to say. I followed her gaze and admired her long fingers tracing that bloodied cloth on my shoulder, her fingertips touching directly onto my skin and awakening goose bumps in their tracks. The woman noticed the effect of her touch and to my surprise, retracted, eyes shook with realisation.

“Your back is done, and your shoulders, there’s only your legs left and your…” she stopped but the understanding made me shift my eyes towards my midsection, covered by the crimson water. I did not know why it bothered her now, since she did not protest or made any displeasing gestures when I undressed and situated myself in the tub, and there was more to see in that instant than right now. Without giving me a chance to reply, she dropped the cloth in the water and retired from the small bathing room, leaving me on my own.

My instinct screamed to jump after her, to chase her and relish in her presence. I could barely contain the thought of being on my own again, but I fought the urge, understanding that even though I needed her company, she may already be sick of mine.

So I stayed back and finished cleaning myself, scraping away days of battle and aversion along with the dried blood, until all of me became cleansed and ready for a new beginning.

By the time I re-entered the room, I found Anwen sitting on a chair by the fire, a kettle of boiling water hanging over the flames emanating a foul smell that immediately reminded me of the cell I had barely broken out of.

“What happened?” I immediately asked, wrapping the only clean towel I had found in the bathroom around my lower parts. I debated whether to leave the room naked and risk causing her discomfort or use the fabric and leave her without a chance of cleaning herself. One look at the bloodied water that was impossible to reuse pushed me for the second option, since I should have been more mannered and offered the clean water to her in the first place. It was obvious I would leave it unusable.

“It smells really bad, I know, but it will make you better, I promise,” she responded with a slightly apologetic tone. “I know you are in need of fresh air, I'm sorry.”

“I shall have the word banned from your lips,” I replied and took a small step inside the room, unsure if to lay on the bed as I did initially or walk closer to her.

“Huh?” she turned fully to me in search of more details.

“That word, ‘sorry’,” I explained. “You are not allowed to utter it anymore. Not after you came after me and managed to keep me away from certain death.” I took a few more steps in her direction and when she did not shy away or make any gestures of discomfort, I decided that it was safe to close the space between us, so I walked around the bed and sat on the mattress, coming as close as I could to the chair she had found and placed by the fireplace.

“Yeah, I’m not really sure about that,” her features adopted a shade of sadness, and her gaze averted from me, shifting unhurriedly towards the flames. “Whatever may come, we still have two more days,” Anwen added, as if she had the hope that those forty-eight hours could change the world.

“The hatred is gone,” I replied. “I don’t feel the calling any longer. Not since your arrival.” I don't know why I felt the need to tell her that, since she never showed fear towards me, but I wanted to make sure Anwen knew that she would be safe with me. Even though we were locked away in a room neither of us could escape from.

“Let’s hope you won’t need to summon it back,” Anwen replied, her voice a whisper, afraid to utter the word too loud to avoid waking whatever demons might be summoned back into me.

My reply came replaced by the sound of boiling water, overflowing from the kettle and escaping drops on the open flames, making the woman react and grab a cloth to remove it from the fire. I watched her as she poured the contents into a cup from a trolley that had appeared into the room while I bathed and passed it to me.

“I'll be honest and it's your decision if you want to drink it or not, but if my opinion counts for anything, I am begging you to do it. Payment has already been made.” She placed the cup in my hands and let me see the inside, where a root dropped waves of darkness in the water. “It’s Cloutie,” she said and waited. For what, I did not know but her posture told me she expected some kind of eruption.

I kept quiet and blinked several times, not knowing what to do or what to say.

“Do you know what a Cloutie tree is? Do you remember?”

I felt silly, needing constant guidance with the simplest of actions, but I admitted my fault since she clearly looked affected by the contents of this horrid tea, so I waved no, that I did not know what it was.

Anwen sighed and took a seat on the bed, next to me, grabbing the cup away from my hands and gripping it in her own, squeezing her fingers around the steaming edges.

“How much do you remember?” she asked, her voice shaky and unsure.

“If you were to tell me my name is Cumin and not Ansgar I would believe you,” I sighed at the unfortunate attempt of a joke which had absolutely no effect on her. Not even a dash of a smile, so I continued. “I remember the basics, my muscles know what they are doing and clearly, I know how to fight,” I said, trying to keep away the memories of the gore she had to witness. “Other than that, there’s not much. I know how to speak and how to use the knowledge I acquired, but I cannot recall where it comes from or why I have it. I don't even know who I am or why I am here.”

“Because of me,” she responded, standing to put the cup away on the tray by the wall, the flashing light of the torch illuminating half her face. “I did something stupid, and you had to pay for it. For my mistake.”

I didn't have to look at her face to feel her pain, her raspy voice and body-language let it slip. I didn't reply, not knowing what to say or understanding her grief, so I kept silent, hoping that she would offer more information. To my good fortune, she did.

“A Cloutie tree is the most sacred being in your kingdom, it was left by your goddess after her death. To help you heal, since she could no longer do it. They are spread across the world, but there are very few left and whoever harms one, must pay a debt. One root, one household, one life,” she uttered the words slowly, giving the impression that speaking them cut through bleeding flesh.

“I used a Cloutie root, without knowing what it was, to make a tea. To come find you. And you paid with your life,” she finally turned, face red and eyes wet, looking at me with a plea for forgiveness.

“I am still alive, they haven’t managed to kill me yet,” I half-smiled, trying to do my best to alleviate her pain.

She nodded in agreement. “Apparently Rhylan took away your energy, I am not very sure how that works, but by taking your power you agreed to become their prisoner. All the while I thought you were dead,” she wiped away tears and started walking to me with an embracing gesture, but thought better of it and stopped, afraid to touch me until she shared the entire story.

“This tea is another Cloutie root,” Anwen exhaled as she uttered the words, slowly and gently, giving my brain time to adjust to the information. “But payment has already been made, so at least we don't need to worry about that. Of course, it is your choice if you drink it,” her lips trembled and she stopped their movement by pressing them tightly together, her eyes the only sign of her wish. She wanted me to drink it, even though she did not say it.

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