Amaranthine: Beauty Within Darkness

Assignment Four: The Witching Hour

The night is still and the patter of the rain makes way for an odd silence as Eleni pulls her bag over her shoulder. She feels a twinge of regret at sneaking out and scrawls a note for the colourful pair. They offered her such kindness, and it isn't right to repay that by sneaking out in the middle of the night. Of course, she has no choice. If she stays, Avise will insist on walking her out when the sun is high.

Wherever the treasure is, Eleni knows instinctively that this place is a diversion. It isn't her goal, and yet there's a strange comfort she's reluctant to abandon. Although the days in the weird village are trying for Eleni, she feels sorrow at leaving.

Once Mr. Dev gave a hearty laugh at her ribald poem, the three stayed up drinking and chatting late into the night. The room Avise so graciously showed Eleni had whispers of a past, a room that was waiting for someone to fill it. Eleni's natural curiosity forced her to probe deeper into the secrets of the space, but all that greeted her was silence. The spirit world wasn't interested in responding.

There is something strange here.

Eleni doesn't like the feeling of powerlessness that accompanies the realisation. The sense of urgency building in her stomach becomes palpable. She focuses only on forcing herself to take shallow breaths, willing the time to pass. It is the sound of a clock, loud and yet melodic, that gives her the opportunity to escape down the stairs and through the servant's entrance, a rickety door to the kitchen.

The clock strikes three, the low-pitched gong resonating like a warning. Eleni smiles knowingly. It's a warning she's heard once or twice before.

It is the Witching Hour.

Even her footsteps, usually lithe and almost silent, feel heavy. She forces her body to move quickly. It is a strange sensation, the feeling that cement encases her legs.

Whatever unusual human-like creatures Avise and Mr. Dev are, their presence or the food they eat makes Eleni less than she should be.

She imagines she feels her heartbeat quicken at the idea, along with a flutter in her stomach. Neither are real, but the memory of human anxiety is unpleasant. Berating herself for taking unnecessary risks, Eleni moves past the barn that was described as inadequate for sleeping. A handful of animals disagree. They look remarkably comfortable.

She pulls the bundle of brown fabric from her bag. Eleni can't help but chuckle as food scraps fall from the old dress, setting goats and chickens scrambling in greedy appreciation. The frock is in desperate shape now, but Eleni pushes it back into her bag, unsure of why she's keeping such a pointless thing but certain it is the right thing to do. If it isn't useful as a disguise, it'll serve as a memory of sweet old Avise Renshaw and her curious companion Mr. Dev.

Eleni feels the human sensations of fear and worry dissipate as she moves through the shadows of the town. Days have passed, and she's learned to avoid the merchants keeping watch and vagrants stealing scraps. When she passes the inn, a melancholy smile moves over her face.

One of the most difficult parts about time and place being a fleeting concept is knowing it always ends the same way. The innkeeper's disagreeable daughter, the blunt merchant, and even Avise and Mr. Dev have been gone for centuries. The town lived before Eleni was even born, and that makes her far more reluctant to leave it behind.

Eleni moves in the shadows of the trees, feeling slightly more energised the further she gets from the town. The crumpled paper she found buried in her garden is safe within the pocket of the confining, high-collared gown that makes her skin itch impatiently. The map guides her through the same sort of forest that led to the town in the first place. For a moment, the thought occurs to her that she's spent days travelling in a circle, and will eventually arrive home before the sun without any treasure.

She stops, a sliver of the moon illuminating the map. A deep breath assures her the forest is not the same as the one that led to the town. The acrid humidity of the nearby swamps and rivers has turned into a more soothing pine, almost like Christmas.

The roses, the hidden treasure, Odelie's joyful smirk at a prank well-played---something was waiting at the end of the journey.

The thought spurs Eleni on, pushing through the frustration of knowing her legs are moving at a slower speed than they have in centuries. It is not the gown that hampers her, she is sure of that. The sounds of an owl hooting his wisdom in the distance and the rustle of deer protecting their young aren't as vibrant as usual. It is as if a fine mist dulled her usually acute senses.

There should have been a way to not take even a bite of that pottage.

As she runs, it occurs to Eleni that there is something more important than the treasure or even the fact that it is only a few hours until sunrise. She needs to get back to her own time in order to be herself again. Returning to where she belongs is the only way to reclaim her magic, the powers she needs in order to survive.

Eleni stops, crouching behind a tree. She feels more vulnerable than she has in a long time. Usually, Eleni knows she is the most dangerous predator in the forest. Today, she feels barely more than human, the easiest prey of all. She can see nothing in the distance ahead or behind, and the heartbeats of the forest aren't soothing.

What if this way is too slow? What if there's no way to the "X" before the sun rises?

A shiver rolls through Eleni's body, even though she is never and always cold. Something pumps through her body that feels a lot like adrenaline. She resents it. Fear is a human weakness, one she is meant to be above.

Eleni's ocean-blue eyes lift to the moon, hands clasped together as if asking the Goddess who resides there for help. Almost in response, something flies past Eleni's head, jolting her to her feet and moving her forward. She runs with renewed determination, wanting to scream and show a true emotion for the first time in a very long time.

A tremendous sensation of panic moves through Eleni like a harsh wave.

She didn't hear that coming. How could she protect herself when she can't even hear the enemy coming?

The owl hoots his wisdom in reply. It is no longer the treasure that matters. It is survival, every painfully slow step one towards ensuring the past doesn't destroy the future.

The smell of pine and cedar closes in on Eleni as she flees. She is moving slowly enough that for the first time, she notices the chestnut-browns and moss greens, and the soft needles and leaves that cover the ground.

The comforting weight of the gold dagger pressing against her thigh is a cold consolation. Eleni can't fight her way out of the trouble she's in, and no charm is left to help her escape. Only the red "X" will prove her salvation, and she doesn't even know what it marks.

She blinks, surprised at the sticky warmth underneath her eyelids. Desperation and fear bring out the worst in people, something she's seen far too many times to count. Despite everything, Eleni must still be a person.

Her eyes take in the beauty of the moon as she forces her body to move faster, ignoring the feeling of being mired in quicksand. Going forward to meet whatever destiny lies ahead is the only thing left to do, and Eleni knows it.

No dagger ever brought down the sun.