“She’s next, Freyah!” Alissa snapped, interrupting her friend’s lecture. She was yelling, eyes swollen with tears from the memories of her father and the acknowledgment of her daughter’s fate. Her emotions were gaining the upper hand.
Freyah was startled at Alissa’s sudden blow-up. Her eye widened in surprise, but Alissa’s visible state of emotional pain made her realize this wasn’t a matter of recklessness anymore; this was something else.
“What do you mean, she’s next?” Freyah’s hands gently searched for Alissa’s, giving her courage.
Alissa held a deep breath and closed her eyes. She thought maybe saying it with her eyes closed would make it easier. It didn’t. “Dhalia. She is next in line for Senectus. She’s dying, Freyah.”
The red-haired woman froze, chuckling as if none of the words out of her friend’s mouth made any sense. “That’s impossible.”
She looked at her friend, hoping she would then burst into laughter, admitting it had been an awful joke, but Alissa’s sorrowful look said it all.
“How do you know?” she asked, finally breaking out of her state of petrification.
“I just know. Trust me. I’ll explain later.” The heavy atmosphere was what made Freyah really understand that her beloved niece would not live to see the following summer. Shetook her trembling hands to her mouth in shock, her eyes letting the first tear slip away.
“Is this why you want to leave?”
Alissa nodded. “I believe the answer to saving her could be beyond Bryniard. There’s nothing in here that could help me save her, but maybe on the other side, I can find answers.” She cleared her throat, but it didn’t help her voice from shaking when she said, “I can’t let her die, Frey.”
Her friend nodded and pulled Alissa by the wrists inside her house. They continued their conversation alone in the bedroom.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Alissa shrugged. She had come up with a thousand ideas on the way there. They all seemed worthless now.
“So, you’re telling me you want to do the one thing that is explicitly known to be ill-advised in our city, risking getting yourself killed, and probably will, but you haven’t got any idea how to do it…”
“Yes.” She nodded. “You were always the smartest of us, Frey. I bet you can come up with something that will work out.”
Boosting her friend’s self-esteem had proven to be the most efficient way for Alissa to get what she wanted. She could almost see the wheels of her friend’s mind turning at a speed she could never keep up with.
“I have an idea,” Freyah said, lighting a spark of hope in her friend’s heart.
Chapter 5
The Red-haired Miracle
Freyah Weller had always been the type of girl who thought it was best to be safe than sorry. “Come cross the wall with me, Freyah?”Alissa would say all those years ago. In Freyah’s mind, the instant and only acceptable answer to that question was “No.”
When she was a child, Freyah believed that beyond the walls of Bryniard lay an endless abyss, as if those walls protected them from falling into an infinite void.
Even when the image of falling into the precipice of the outside world crept into her mind, Freyah did whatever Alissa asked without resistance, secretly hoping they would never actually cross the enormous wall into what she believed would be her end.
It was ironic how something as simple as saying “no” could bring this young woman so much anxiety. The guilt of disappointing others crushed her. As a result, Freyah had more insecurities than she could count, and although no one came as close to the ideal of perfection as Freyah, the constant feeling of not meeting her own unrealistic expectations brought her down more often than she realized.
Dane and Lorena Weller were strict about raising their only child, but that didn’t change the fact that they were also good people who had come from poverty and, through sweat and tears, had made a reasonably comfortable life for their family. Because of that, the pressure to keep the family tavern running smoothly had been weighing on Freyah’s shoulders since she was too young to see it; even her parents never noticed what poor Freyah had to endure in those days of her youth.
Days when her body made her look like a woman, but her mind still belonged to a child. Days she couldn’t see how the gazes of men carried such malice and the evil intentions hidden there as she worked serving at the tavern. Only when she grew older did she make sense of why some customers suddenly seemed to want to sit closer when a spilled drink made the white fabric of her dress seem a little see-through. Only when she matured to the young woman she was now had she acknowledged how many times she had been harassed working behind that counter. So many times, she had to learn to ignore them without losing the smile on her face.
Fed up with the relentless, aggressive approaches, Freyah didn’t run when she saw the wild boar come after her. Instead, she stood there, admiring the scene, watching the animal come closer, its teeth bare, drool spilling on the floor, tracing the path it walked. She wondered if it crossed the animal’s mind how she was the easiest, most stupid prey it had ever chased. Freyah wasn’t hoping to be killed at that moment; she just didn’t have enough strength or willpower to run away.
Surviving the attack had been a miracle in itself.
Her bright red hair and hazel eyes, flawless skin, and slender frame had once made her the most beautiful woman Bryniard had ever seen. This woman… she was all beauty, inside and out. After the incident, people believed she became self-conscious of how much she had changed.
“She used to be so beautiful.”
“Poor girl will never marry looking like this.”