The comforting sound of crackling flames jostled me awake. My body, stiff and numb, relaxed slightly as the heat from the hearth caressed my back. For once, I truly felt at peace with no more blood and gore to worry about.
Gentle hands prodded my wounds with a wet cloth, tracing around gashes and scars. I knew that my back was an unholy sight -- a living jigsaw of skin and scabs.
I moaned as the burning sensation of water touched raw flesh, numbing my back once more. Voices flitted out from the bedroom. I didn't need to discern their words to know that they were Alistair and Father arguing, something about the village Elders as always. I couldn't help but smile a bit nevertheless. It was good to know that they were still the same.
I dug my fingers into the plush carpet, squeezing my eyes shut in pain. The carpet was what was left of our former wealth, a painful memory of history. My father had once been a fine merchant, traveling across the seas to trade. This very rug had been a wedding gift to my mother, bought from the faraway continents on the other side of the world. We had managed to save it before our estate went up in cinders, although I didn't know what was the point in keeping it when we could sell it for other necessities.
I grimaced.
"Shit, Theodore!"
He winced at my tone. "Sorry, Eleena. Your wounds are quite bad this time. Are you sure you don't want your healing herbs?"
I took a calming breath, unclenching my fists before craning my head slightly to meet his eyes. He looked so sincere, his grey eyes -- my mother's eyes -- remained pinned on me, daring me to refuse. I couldn't help it, not when he was giving me that look. I sighed as I gave in, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
"Fine, I will."
"Cheer up Eleena, don't be so glum. You would be as fit as before in no time." You see, that was the problem. The Elders would suspect something suspicious about us if I healed so quickly. Only the faeries had herbs and abilities to do that, not humans. I couldn't put my family at risk again, not when I had been through so much the last time I had.
The bitter smell of the brew wafted from the kitchen, seemingly taunting me to drink it. I could see the vague outline of Theodore tending to the herbs, his porcelain skin giving a warm glow. Sometimes, I thought of how ironic our appearances were. My calloused, tan skin from hunting under the sun compared to the smooth, pale skin of my brothers. It wasn't that my brothers were lazy. They weren't like Father, who just sat around and moped. Alistair and Theodore sometimes didn't ... observe as much. It wasn't their egos or cold-heartedness that prevented them to help; it simply never occurred to them that we were poor now and needed as much help as we could get to survive.
"Here," he said, placing a mug in front of me, "Drink up."
I pushed myself up, Theodore's warm hands supporting me as I leaned against him. Of all of us, Theodore had taken our lost the lightest. Although he had resented our father from the second we'd fled our manor, he had always believed that one day we would regain our wealth and the life we had once lived before.
Even Alistair did not fill our heads with useless talk of hope. No, he just unleashed his frustrations and anger upon us whenever he had the chance, and rarely acknowledged my father's and my presence at all. Occasionally, I couldn't tell who was the most forlorn and bitter.
"Eleena. Eleena. Drink up."
I blinked. Theodore had moved from his position from behind me to sit before me, concern flashing in his eyes. "Are you alright Eleena, you seem dazed." I shook my head as if shaking the thoughts away. "No, no, I am fine. Don't be such a mother hen." He grinned, wrinkles crinkling at the corner of his eyes. Weariness had taken a toll on him. His usual flawless skin now had minor wrinkles and there were dark bags under his eyes. I felt a slight pang of guilt, he should not be looking after me when he needs to look after himself. It is my fault that he seems to look older.
My shivering hands clutched the chipped mug tightly, feeling the smoke rising to tickle my face. Slowly, I brought the cup to my lips and took a sip, instantly spitting it out to the side. Theodore grimaced before returning his gaze to me.
"Come on Eleena, just a few sips," he coaxed. I glanced down at the greenish liquid in the cup, bits of the herbs swirling in it. Squeezing my eyes shut I gulped it all down, forcing the brew down my throat. The pungent taste of the brew lingered in my mouth, it was so horrible that it had taken five cups of water to wash the taste away. Each time was the same. Sipping, spitting it out and then chugging the rest down.
Silence hung between us as Theodore stared at my back mindlessly. It must have been a while as when Theodore spoke, I yelped silently.
"It still amazes me how fast this brew heals your body. Even though I have watched the process over and over again, it still stuns me like when I first saw it." Theodore smiled sadly to himself as if reliving a memory. I chuckled quietly before peering at my back.
Even though I didn't want to admit it, it does truly impress me at how fast my body heals when I drink the brew. I watched flabbergasted as skin mends together leaving faint pink scars in its wake. Any traces of blood vanished as if it had never existed. I winced as my jaw snapped into place from the blow I received earlier on. My ribs cracked as they stitched themselves up from when I have broken them before. It had only been less than ten minutes yet I was fully healed, feeling better than before.
Fear gnawed at me. The only reason I would refuse to drink the brew would be because the village Elders would be suspicious. I couldn't afford that again, not when it had nearly cost my family's and my life.
"Wouldn't the Elders be suspicious?" Theodore tensed. He turned his head sharply to me from where he watched the murmuring fire.
"They won't. They wouldn't dare set foot in the woods as they are too afraid of the creatures that roam in it. As long as we don't show our faces in the village, we are safe."
I was startled. Theodore rarely uses that tone. The cold, seething tone in which he seldom used against one of us. His eyes had become stormy, the raging clouds of a rainy day, and his lips were pulled back into a snarl. I shrank back internally. Theodore's rage was like a honed weapon, deadly enough to leave someone mentally and physically scarred.
He sighed running his hand through his fluffy chestnut hair, returning to the cool and composed composure --his favourite mask. "Sorry Eleena, I just ... just feel so frustrated and overprotective sometimes that I can't control my emotions."
"It's fine," I lied. I was still trembling, his ruthless stare the only thing I could think about. His cold eyes seemed to pierce into me, threatening in its way.
The Asterins had always kept a secret. A secret so important that it has to be kept or else war would begin. It started with my mother. My mother had always been a charming woman to all those she meets and she was very adventurous. Being the curious woman she was, she had stumbled upon the faerie realm when she was just a child and befriended a faerie. They had been close friends ever since, meeting each other in secret in the middle of the night by the border. They were so close that they were almost inseparable.
When my mother wed my father, she made him swear not to tell a single soul of her faerie friend as it would put the faeries and humans at war again. My father had immediately agreed of course, his undying love for my mother keeping him loyal to her eternally. The day she was on her deathbed, she made my brothers and I swear the same oath my father made and to pass on the pledge to the generations to come. On one unfaithful day in which I was first tortured, my father had ventured to the barrier in which he saw the lone faerie mourning for his friend. He had begged for the faerie's help in which the faerie agreed. The faerie had given my father some healing herbs to plant in our garden which continued to help me heal to this very day.
I pinched the bridge of my nose as I watched Theodore recede into the kitchen with my mug in hand. I tried calling out to him, asking him if he was fine but the words were stuck in my throat. I tucked my legs into myself, wrapping my arms around them. It was placatingly quiet now. No bickering, the only sounds of water running from the kitchen and my steady heartbeat.
But there was a loud bang that half deafened me, disrupting the silence I was enjoying. I swiveled my head towards the sound only to see Alistair storming out of the bedroom, his face red from anger. The wooden door that separated the living area from the bedroom now hung on only a hinge as it swung dangerously back and forth. It didn't surprise me, to say the least. Alistair had always had a hot temper. I had already become used to his frosty attitude.
Father limped out, shining wet traces of tears obvious on his cheeks. I sighed. It must have been a particularly bad fight that Father was involved in. The backs of my hair stood up as I felt a pair of eyes drilling holes into my back. Slowly, I turned around, coming face to face with Alistair.
"We need to talk."