Isildilia.(Book 1 of the White Lily trilogy)

chapter 6- trip to the palace

   

She dragged herself over so she could stand in front of the mirror she had. Her hand shook as she lit a candle nearby. After she put it near the glass, she unlaced the back of her dress at the back. She gently eased it off her shoulders, so she could see her back in the mirror. She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her own scream at what she saw.

Her back looked like it was branded with a black tattoo. It ran full length from her shoulder blades to the base of her back, the skin around it red and inflamed. It was the shape that worried her more. It was of a pair of wings that were folded neatly against her spine. The black marks felt hot to the touch as her finger reached to her shoulder and traced along the pattern.

"How did this happen?" she asked herself out loud. "Was it Thiryqa? No. I started receiving this pain before meeting him." She kept considering all the possibilities, never taking her eyes of the marks. She felt sick, she was sick twice in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow the burning concoction. Just how did this happen? Why did this happen? How was she going to explain this? Her back had been hurting quite recently was this the reason? Was there a pattern of s...

Then she realised something. She'd kept receiving all this pain at night, but there was one thing in common with those nights. She looked towards the window the night had now cleared and the moon was now high in the sky, but the light didn't touch her. Was that the key?

She turned around so that her back was to the window, then stepped back into the light. It must have been the trigger, as once again her back burst into mind numbing pain. Her legs buckled beneath her as she collapsed to the floor. Again the withering and pain stopped. She looked up. She was resting in the shadow of her bed, out of the moonlight. She didn't want to move; she couldn't go through that pain again. She dragged the sheets off, curled up beside her bed, and tried to sleep through the night.

She wasn't sure whether or not it was from falling unconscious from the throbbing pain, or from her general tiredness that caused her to fall asleep in the end. But, the next morning, she felt awful. Her back muscles were seized up and there was a horrible taste in her mouth like she had chewed on mouldy garlic. She used the remainder of her strength to push herself off the floor. Only then did she realise she had not slipped her dress back on. She flushed bright red with embarrassment. But then, if anyone had walked in and seen her, they wouldn't have just left her on the floor.

She quickly slipped out of her dress and replaced it with a clean one. This one was not as fancy, pale yellow, with a white lace trim, but at least it wasn't torn and filthy. She stopped to stare at her back in the mirror. The mark was still there. She had hoped that she imagined the whole thing, but it was clear as ink. She threw her ruined dress into the furthest corner. She will have to repair that at a later date, or not at all. Considering how it smelt and looked, she'd be better off salvaging the untainted scraps and burning the rest.

Creeping slowly down the steps, she tried to sneak into the kitchen without anyone noticing. She needed time to think, but she was also hungry.

But, to her dismay, everyone was already awake. All five of them were gathered at the table. Their heads snapped up as she opened the door. No-one muttered a word as she gathered herself some bread and water. She didn't like this unnatural silence; she wanted someone to say something, anything.

"Isildilia?" asked Elencra. Isildilia mumbled a response, as her mouth was full of bread at the time. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes Isi, you are as white as a sheet," Owel pointed out.