White Orchids {BOOK 1 COMPLETED}

Chapter 13

It takes over a week until only red marks are left on the burned part of my throat. The frozen side is completely healed and the persistent pain is no longer there. It can burn a little if I haven't used the ointment, but not nearly as piercing painful it had been.

The first days I didn't have to join Clover on the contracts. It was only the last three when the wound was almost completely healed that I didn't have a choice. Mostly it was car accidents, nor was it unusual to see people who had drowned or died at their dangerous jobs, or those who had fell from high buildings or cliffs. It was humans from all over the world. I noticed that, Whether it was a stressed office man from Japan or an old lady from Ukraine, there are small differences between people in death.

Clover knew exactly what kind of soul wanderers they needed, and he played every role perfectly. He'd held an older woman's hand, whispering about beautiful landscapes she longed to see again. But he had been cold and harsh towards a young man. No matter how he acted they always gave him their souls willingly, whether it was out of faith or fear. When I asked why he couldn't leave them there as specters if that's what they wanted, he said it was more merciful to scare them into it. "Lies can sometimes be needed," he'd said. He didn't seem rather fond of his own words.

No contracts are handed out to Clover today. If it hadn't been for the apprenticeship, I'd be able to leave the Eleven. I'm stuck here until that is done. Clover and Artemis plans to bring me to the market later, but I have nothing to do until then.

I sit down and read through the names I had written the night before. I've stopped tearing out pages and use the notebook instead. I kept what was already there, what I had written when I was a child. Some of the pages I'd spilled ink over. Large round circles covered the writing and some of them were even wet and stained my fingers when I touched them. I have no memory of what I had hidden under those large circles of ink.

I had failed to visit the well the last time I explored the Eleven, and it is still something I'd like to see up close.

There is no point in waiting more than necessary. I close the notebook and leave the room, going through the long silent corridor until it takes me out to the Eleven. This time I don't see a lot of the creatures, according to Artemis they're busy setting up the market in the west.

Once I reach into the depth of the moon forest, the closest I've been to the well, I hear a sound. It's not like how the moon-trees melody sounds like. It's not even a melody, but a sound so gentle and beautiful and magical. At the same time, it's lonely and sorrowful. If I close my eyes I can see glitter of different colors cover a sea. It glows in the darkness.

I remember what Clover had said. They usually didn't go there. It's not forbidden, but there is a reason why they stay away. I know that simple fact should make me want to turn back, despite that I continue upwards the hill.

The black stone slabs reflect my face and I don't like seeing the sorrowful eyes that stares back at me. I see dad in them, the sad and tired eyes he had shown us when he told us he had cancer.

I look up at the trees. I cannot nor do I want to see my eyes. It's harder to play alright when this place brings out every thought you have. Here can no one lie and pretend to be someone else. Here you are the most absolute and truest version of yourself.

When I finally arrive the air is so filled with sorrow that it makes it hard to breathe. Yet I don't want to return.

The tower is gigantic and white with small black dots, so small that you can't see them from a distance. It stands in the middle of a round structure filled with blue liquid that reach a decimeter or two from the edge. A white staircase leads up to an elongated platform that extends out towards the tower. Vines have grown over the steps and the structure's wall, but it never reaches far enough that it touches the liquid.