CHAPTER XVII. PEOPLE ARE POISON.
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MUD sploshed under the multiple sets of footsteps. A distance behind me, I could hear the clomping of horseshoes. My heart was racing in my chest, and I feared it would jump out of my throat if I wasn't careful. Shouting filled the air, the lights from the torches illuminate the sides of the trees.
I raced through the forest, going as fast as my body would let me. All this running through the trees, jumping over logs, slipping in the mud, and hallucinating from the mist the rain created was making me lose it. I wanted to give up. My sides were aching and my legs felt like jello. It was a miracle I was still running.
But the woman in front of me was what was keeping me going. She was ahead of me, frantically looking left and right. I followed after her, stepping in the places she did. She was a lot faster than I was, and it was hard to see her through all of this mist and fog.
It was cold. I was soaked; my hair clinging to my face, my dress clinging to my body. My shoes were full of rainwater and mud and were beginning to make my feet ache as I ran even more. I could feel the blisters on my feet breaking, and the hot blood running across the icy skin.
Thunder bashed around us, making me jump. My breath caught in my throat, and I quickly glanced behind me. The horses cried out loudly before tipping back, threatening to spill their riders into the mud. The others paused to help before returning their pursuit after us.
They never stopped. There were always after us. We couldn't even go into the village without them pouncing on us. We hadn't even done anything! We were just buying things in the market, just as they would do.
We weren't any different than they were. But still, they chased us out with torches and swords, yelling profanities and threats as if we were animals who'd dug in their trash. It was unfair how they treated us.
But there; that was the slash in the tree. We were almost home. I remember watching her tear the blade through the trunk to mark our way. She'd smiled so sweetly at me then.
The woman turned back, realizing that I wasn't directly behind her. Panicked, she found me, swept me into her arms, and continued on her way. I felt relief wash over me, the constant pain in my feet slowly easing. I clung to her as she put her hand on the back of my head, securing me against her.
She ran some more before glancing behind her, seeing that the men had stopped. They never came past that point. So, she slowed her pace down to a walk, holding me tightly against her.
When we had returned to the cottage, the rain had begun to lighten up. It was warmer on the inside, making both of us sigh with relief. She shut the door, pushing her shoulder against it to make sure it was tight, before pulling the wooden board in front of it. She jiggled the handle just to be sure.
She then sent me in front of the fireplace, adding a few more logs into the fire before kneeling down in front of me. Without a word, she began to strip me of my soaked clothing, pulling my shoes off, before peeling the dress over my head. I shivered in the cold as she wrapped me in a blanket before standing.
She kicked her own shoes off before stripping herself down. She rummaged around the wicker basket before finding some dry clothing, and a cloth we used as a towel. She got back on her knees in front of me, rubbing it over my head to dry my hair. After she did the same to herself, she helped me get back in my new clothes before doing the same.
Once we were both dressed in dry clothing, she pulled me into her lap. She draped the blanket over her shoulders before pulling it around me. She pulled a strand of my hair back from my face, her brown eyes filled with remorse.
"You're shivering," She said.
"I'll warm," I said, my teeth chattering together. She pulled me closer.
"Your feet are bleeding," She frowned. I tucked them under the blanket.
"The blisters broke," I said.
"They need to be cleaned and bandaged," She muttered, moving from behind me. "You'll get an infection."
"They've already healed," I said, running my hands over them. "The blood is old."
She paused. "I...I forget you that...ability," She shook her head. "Still, the blood should be cleaned away. Here. Hop on the bed."
I did as she told, climbing onto the bed before letting my feet dangle over the edge. Her touch was cold as she ran her fingers over my feet, seeing for herself that the wounds had indeed healed on their own. She took a cloth and wiped the blood away.
"I'm the reason those men chase us, aren't I?"
She lifted her head to look at me. She frowned, and I could tell she was about to lie to me.
"Please, don't lie to me," I said before she could speak. "I know that I am not like the other people. People call me a witch. I am not stupid to this."
She stared at me for a moment, before sighing. "Indeed. They call you a witch because you aren't the same as they are. But that does not mean you are."
She sat beside me, pulling me into her lap. "So then, what does that make me?"
"Why, you're just a little girl," She said. "You may be able to do something that they aren't, but that doesn't make you any different than the other children in the village."
"Then how come they run us out, and call us witches?" I asked. Her chest rose and fell with a sigh.
"People are just like that. They'll always have venom on their tongue," She said. "People are poison."
...
The sun beat down above us, contrasting the weather from the night before. Swinging my feet back and forth over the log, I watched the woman off in the distance. She collected herbs from the small garden she had planted, using the seeds from the scarce vegetables and herbs that we had taken from the village in a rush.
There were only a few patches of water leftover in the grass from the previous downfall, and the ground was still moist, though it was beginning to dry up. I wanted to help, but she had insisted I stay where I was.
As she rose up, I giggled when she slid a little bit, lifting the basket above her head as her eyes widened. She turned her eyes to me, glaring as she heard my laughter. She huffed out, tucking the basket into her side as she walked towards me.
"Stop laughing," She grumbled.
"But it was funny!" I said, watching her place the basket beside me. "You should have seen your face!"
"You're very mean for a six-year-old," She huffed out, lightly pushing on the side of my head. "Who did you learn that from?"
"I've been around you!" I laughed.
"Oh, yeah," She said, slightly grinning at me.
Taking the ax from the side of the cottage, she draped it over her shoulder before walking towards the pile of wood. She set one up before swinging the ax down, splitting the wood into two pieces. She paused for a moment, rolling up the ends of her dress before grabbing another piece of wood.
When we had traveled through the village, dressed in drapes and cloaks to hide our identities, I remembered always seeing the men outside, swinging axes to cut the firewood. It astonished me because I had grown up watching her do it. I suppose it showed how strong she was. I would always brag about how much stronger she was than the men of the village.
Once a pile had begun, I saw that her forehead had become dotted with sweat. She huffed before raising her, wiping the sweat away before continuing on. She was tired, I knew that, but she still went on. She knew if she didn't we'd both freeze without firewood to keep the fire going inside of the cottage. She always worked so hard...
I jumped off the stump, running across the stone path to the cottage. I pushed open the door and ran inside. Grabbing a chair from the table, I pushed it over to the counter before climbing on it. I stood on the tips of my toes, grabbing one of the polished wooden cups from the cabinet. Hopping down from the chair, I pushed it back to the table before climbing back into it. I grabbed the glass pitcher from the center of the table, holding it carefully before pouring some of the water into the glass. Once I had filled it up, I sipped a little from the top before taking it and slipping from the chair.
"Nee-san!" I called, running from the cottage. "I got you something to dri--"
"Get back inside!" She yelled, making me jump.
Lifting my gaze, I felt my heart stop in my chest. The cup slipped from my hands, falling on the stone path, darkening as the water spilled out. A group of men surrounded my sister, their horses neighing loudly as they stamped their feet on the ground. She clutched the ax in her hands, slowly stepping back towards me.
The first man, the only one with a graying beard, stepped forward. "Give this up," He said, holding his hand out. "Give us the witch."
"There's no witch here!" She yelled, swatting her hand back until she found hold of my arm. She yanked me into her side, making me grip her dress with wide eyes.
"Who lives in this cottage?" The second man, with black hair, asked.
"My sister and I," She said. "And you'll leave us be! We've done no harm to you, good sirs! Be on your way!"
"That girl there is the witch," The first man said, pointing a bony finger at me. "Give her willingly, or we'll force her out of your hands, wretch!"
"She's no witch!" She exclaimed. "She's a girl, just as your daughters are! Now, be on your way! Before our Father comes and kills you for trespassing! Go on!"
They exchanged a glance. Reluctantly, they climbed back onto their horses, shooting death glares our way before snapping the reins with a crack. The horses huffed before turning, beginning their journey back to the village.
My sister swept me in her arms before rushing into the cottage. She set me down, making me back away as she shoved the board in front of the door. We both climbed onto the bed as I sat in her lap, hiding my face in her chest. She placed the ax on the bed beside her. Tightly, she held me to her chest, her hand on the back of my head, clutching my dark hair.
"One day," She promised to me. "One day, this will end. Until then, never leave my side, Eris."
[Chapter XVII. End]
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