Podestaria - Blooming [Wattys2017]

Prologue - Under the Fake Stars

Radvna stared at the stars glowing on the ceiling, a poor imitation of the real ones — the ones of her childhood. Her breath was slow and laboured; she was cold but not on her left side, where her Little Gabba was curled, sleeping soundly. She could hear her grandson talking with Mr Collins in the farm's backyard, the only sound in the early morning. The light creak of the door's opening and a sudden, soft thump on her legs made her tilt her head, enough to see who the intruder was. A purring and two luminous eyes got closer to her face, a tiny, cold point encircled with fur touched her cheek.

«Mockey, are you here to keep me company?» Radvna asked, her voice but a rasping gurgle in the back of her throat.

The kitten meowed and curled by the woman's other side, purring to comfort. A wrinkled, bony hand laid on the grey fur, enjoying one last time the silky, soft texture and the wild smell.

Radvna's heart skipped a beat.

«You'll watch over my Little Gabba, Mockey, won't you?» she exhaled, her lugs striving to expel the air and fill with fresh oxygen.

The kitten meowed mournful, rubbing his head against the woman's neck, lulling her into sleep with his rhythmic and constant purr.

Radvna's heart skipped another beat.

Something quivered in the room's shadows. The phosphorescent glow of the painted stars intensified, becoming almost solid. With one last effort, Radvna lifted her hand to the blade of greenish, pale light, and welcomed the creature like an old friend. It was a butterfly, with wings of marvel and wonderment — the body, however, was a pitch-black spider. She let the creature walk along her arm, its legs as light and tickling as a feather: it crawled on her chest, seeking a passage through her clothes.

Radvna's heart stopped when the creature sank its claws into her flesh.

The insensitivity started in the tips of her fingers and toes, spreading from her limbs to her core with a tidal wave: she felt neither cold nor warmth, even the little girl and the kitten's weights on her were gone. Her Little Gabba's sweet smell, Mockey's musky one started to fade, and her eyes strained to stay focused on the fake stars' greenish glow – it turned into faint, unshaped patches, soon swallowed by the Darkness. The distant echo of a plaintive meow and of a sleepy 'Àhkku' were the last sound Radvna heard before her soul parted from her body.

It was a bit like being born once again.

Suddenly all her senses were back, but Radvna knew it wasn't like before. She could see things she couldn't see before, even during her sparse trips to the Savio: all the beauty and the goodness. And the spirits of her husband and of her children who believed in the Southern God.

She was once again with Esbjörn, her big kind bear of a husband; and with Jack, proud in the uniform he was killed into in 1944; and Lucy, beaming at her like on the day her third child was born; and the two boys and the girl who died nameless in her womb. There was Mary, who couldn't bear to lose her husband to another woman; Richard, who lost his fight against cancer; Harold and his family, killed by a patch of ice on a cold winter morning. There was Sarah, her Little Gabba's older sister, and all the grandchildren and great-grandchildren harvested by Dame Death before their time. And Mother and Father, the Noaidi and Birki, and Siri holding her unborn baby, all looking as if the day the Thousand-Lives Man slaughtered them never came. Even Edda was there, the wife Esbjörn lost to the Wolf Herder on their wedding night.

Why are you lingering here? Esbjörn's voice echoed, like a whisper in the wind – like he used to murmur in the aftermath of Love.

Virginia is holding you back. Sarah's voice added, with the regret of someone who dreamt of living a full life but got none.

I wish I had a bit more time.

Regret scratched the back of her throat, as Radvna looked mournful at her family. If only she had more time, she could have taught her Little Gabba how to protect herself, how to hone her gifts. To help her when the Gazzi would come to teach her and make her parents understand the truth – to prevent doctors in nice white coats to get into the Gazzi's way and make things even worse. But she had to go and what crushed Radvna was the knowledge that her Little Gabba was like her and that sooner or later the Thousand-Lives Man would purse her. She couldn't do more to keep her Little Gabba safe, to prevent the Thousand-Lives Man from finding her too soon – she had gone as far as sealing her great-granddaughter's powers away, a painful but needed sacrifice.

With a knot in her throat, Radvna turned her head to her own bones, to the little girl frantically shaking her body in the attempt to wake her up. Her Little Gabba's moist eyes were a stab in her heart: Radvna wished to comfort the little girl, but she could offer none.

"Àhkku?"

It was then that Radvna realised the little girl could see her –an ability that might be fully sealed when she would move on in the Savio. The spirit and the child stared at each other, the desire to hug and comfort each other clear in their eyes.

Don't be sad: the Living and the Death are two halves of the same family.

Radvna hoped the girl would get the message, the knowledge she had shared with her mother after Sarah's loss. She wanted to kiss the girl, to feel her sweet smell or the warmth of her arms, yet her Time was over.

Remember, my Little Gabba: beware of the Thousand-Lives Man.

Virginia is back! Sort of, since I've been adding the rewritten bits in Podestaria—Kindling. You are going to read about old and new allies and villains, and a bad taste joke of Fate I've been working on for about fourteen years. No, no one's going to die, Hubby convinced me to pen out the characters' death that I had originally planned. However, it doesn't means Virginia won't have her series of shocks, not after she'll step in he much bigger picture.

This is a first draft, so feel free to point any grammar horrors and/or word choices that sound weird/unnatural. This prologue is dedicated to @ShauntaGrimes: I'm currently following her year long writing class and it's helping me a lot, since before I was unsure about how Virginia would get to the end of this book.

The song is "Dållåràtte" by Jarŋŋa, a Swedish group I stumbled upon while searching Radvna's songs. Maybe one day I'll write her story

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