Cries of a Wounded Soul

Chapter 18

[Aria]

The night wind howled, squeezing its way inside through every gap or crack. Shuddering and rattling, the front door struggled against the assault. Blown grit rat-a-tatted against the windows while the moonlight dimmed and brightened to the cadence of swift clouds.

Alone in the cottage, a sharp knock at the front door set me on edge. With heart pounding, I tip-toed through the darkness and lifted the latch, peeking out through the gap. Hello? I said in a weak voice that hardly registered above the wind.

The visitor shoved open the door, pushing me back. Gaining entry as well, the wind swirled through the room, swaying curtains and lifting my hair. A dark form stood at the threshold and blazing red eyes regarded me with contempt, sending shivers down my spine.

Did you think I was truly gone, Aria? Naamah said with a cruel laugh.

I bolted upright in bed, panting. The morning sun cast a golden beam through the window to the opposite wall, lighting up the dust motes in its path. The only sound outside was a songbird's sweet melody. No wind. No personification of Darkness. It was just a dream, just a dream. I supposed being trapped with that evil was bound to have some lasting effects.

Tomas, my husband, stirred beside me, blinking sleepy eyes.

My husband! My lover! A warm flush flowed through me as I relished these new concepts. Despite my father's objections, we married as soon as we arrived in Tomas' village. What was the purpose of courtship, I explained to my father, but to see if we were compatible and allow love to blossom? But we already knew the depths of each other's souls. And I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with Tomas.

"The nightmares again?" Tomas asked. 

I nodded as he drew my head down to his shoulder and wrapped a strong, protective arm around me. Snuggling in, we melded our bodies together. His scent, like cedar and musk, intoxicated me.

He stroked my hair, sending waves of comfort to my core, whispering in my ear, "Being trapped with Naamah... I can't imagine the hell you endured."

"Many times, I prayed to die, for the Creator God to end my suffering." A smile came to my lips, and I lifted my head to gaze into his gentle eyes. "Instead, God sent you. My savior."

"You were first the savior of the world, my love," he replied with a half grin. "That I might save the savior was my blessing."

Glendia, Tomas' mother, called us to breakfast through the bedroom door. While serving eggs and fry-bread in the kitchen, she remarked almost in passing, "Remember, the builder said he will come by later. Best we add more space to this little house now before it is really needed."

Tomas and I grinned at each other. That was one of her more subtle hints for grandchildren. But if what I suspected was true, she would have her wish next summer.

"Do you miss the magic, Willow?" Tomas' mother asked, sitting down at the table.

I almost did not answer, since changing my name to Willow Song was another of many adjustments, done so that I might begin a new life unencumbered with my past. I lifted a hand and concentrated, calling the magic. But only the faintest blue spark came forth. "It was a part of me, like the Magicae Null was a part of Tomas, so it feels strange not to be there. Naamah was right about one thing. She said that as long as magic existed, so would she, so I suppose the converse was also true." I grasped Tomas' hand and leaned into him. "But this being the price to be rid of her, I gladly pay it."

Later that afternoon, my father returned from Kharse earlier than expected. After collapsing into a chair in the kitchen and sprawling out his weary legs, he gladly accepted an ale from Glendia. She beamed as she sat next to him.

Grumbling, he said, "King Reza surpassed himself in pompous bloviation. He took credit for Naamah's defeat, saying it was all under his leadership." He took a big swig of ale and wiped the excess foam from his white beard. "At least he stuck to the story that you, my Willow Song, destroyed her in mortal battle, but then you died of your injuries." Lifting his cup to me, my father grinned. "You are to be honored each year in celebration, daughter."

The king had not been so brave. After Naamah's defeat, we found him cowering within a shallow cave cut into the red-rock wall. My father nearly skewered him on the spot, but instead gave him the narrative he was to report under the threat of a coward's reveal. Of the original twenty-two soldiers and three mages that ventured to the sepulcher, only seven soldiers returned with the king.

"What of the fading magic? How have the nobles reacted?" Tomas asked.

"They are as twitchy as long-tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs." My father laughed, then took another drink. "Without his precious mages, the king and his friends are weakened. The magic fails not just in our Muirea, but other kingdoms as well. And who knows, good things may come of it. Already have the petty border skirmishes lessened. Perhaps a regime change may happen."

"We have something to tell you," Tomas' mother said as she took up my father's hand. Tomas stilled and his eyes widened. "Obeus asked if he might court me, and I said yes. I think it is time."

Tomas' face paled as if he had seen a ghost, and might have fainted away if not for my grip on his arm. He opened his mouth to speak, but the only thing that came out was, "Uhhh..."

I put a hand to my mouth to suppress a giggle, but failed.

Finding his voice, Tomas stammered, "Mother... But you don't know him. What he's like... He is mean and grumpy!"

"Oh, don't worry Tomas," she replied with a grin. "Willow gave me a few pointers on how to handle our big pooky."

Now it was my father's turn to go wide-eyed.

Tomas turned to me. "You knew about this?"

"Only that my father asked," I answered. "The way we tortured him with our whirlwind romance and how we would sneak away to be alone together, you have to admit to a degree of poetic justice here."

As if prompted, Glendia led my father away by the hand, leaning against him in place of her cane. Tomas took a deep breath and shook his head. "First my father-in-law, now Obeus might also become my step-father." He grinned. "Do you think I could call him daddy pooky?"

I laughed. "My love, it would be wiser if you did not."