Page 33 of Of Shadows and Blood

Avonde steps forward, smiling and motioning to the other healers behind her. I see Henry at the back of the group speaking with another cess. “Good morning, we would like to discuss your health.”

“He needs to be here for that?” I question, coming off more curt than I would like. We had a moment of understanding last night but I won’t be swayed into trust until I am ready. Avonde nods even though Cedric turns away, almost ready to go back to the castle.

“If he would like to be,” she replies, looking to him. He makes no move so I take it as his choice to remain.

My hand grips the handle a tad tighter but I relent and open the door. The only other option is to make this difficult and I conclude that wouldn’t end well. Following me into the cottage, each of the cess removes their hood and finds a place to sit in the front room. The room isn’t that large, so I keep my distance by standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Cedric lingers just outside the door, likely determining if he should come inside.

Henry whispers something in Avonde’s ear, but the other three keep their eyes trained on me. Inspecting me, watching my actions, determining my mental state.

“So, I would like to introduce you to the other upper members of the cess at Demis. Our team has identified what we think is causing this mental disturbance, but we need more time.”

“What even is a cess?”

Avonde chuckles, crossing one leg over the other. “Cess, we’re told, developed originally from the word sorceress. Most magic wielders were women once upon a time, but the trait started to pass on through mothers to sons as the populations grew. Now just fathers carry the trait. Each one of us takes stations of healing and some choose to work in combat situations so magic can be used for victory.”

“And you said I am one, a cess,” I question, already knowing the answer.

“You are, as your father before you was. Do you feel your magic?”

The question is laughable. The only verifiable thing I can feel is my hand zap against the doorknob. But who’s to say that isn’t the cottage’s magic?

“No, because I don’t have magic. I’m – I thought I was a human.” I do a twirl, attempting to display some of my supposed humanness. The three who haven’t been introduced look to each other. I go to say something else but my mind goes blank.

Avonde notices my observation and introduces each of them. “Grenn, Yully and Percy are all from different kingdoms. Cess have the opportunity to train anywhere and also find stations anywhere. They have no citizenship. I, myself, am from across the Harren Sea. You’ll notice my accent.”

“Do you mind telling us what you remember from your coma, your dream state?” Yully requests, sitting comfortably on a cushion on the floor with parchment before him.

Chills sweep up my arms. Recalling everything is harder than I imagined. Parts of my memory from the farm have slowly become shadowed to me. My mind is slippery, unable to hold most information.

“I’m still coming to terms with my life being dwindled down to a ‘dream state’, and you wish me to explain it.” I stare at Yully plainly.

“Take your time, of course.” Percy motions to the tea and I take a heavy swig.

The timeline, the experience, it all begins to form. “Before you ask, I don’t remember a true beginning.”

“You just woke up in action?” Yully muses.

“I don’t remember. Perhaps there was a day of awakening, but it is lost to me. I just existed. There was a mother, Ma, she took care of me. Not a figment of my imagination but a real person with emotions, with goals, with skills.” I work my throat. “We lived in a small house, decrepit, on a desolate farm with little to no profit. But Gods, the work. Every day was a repetitive motion.”

“So, you repeated the same day for two years?” Yully picks up his pencil and scratches something out.

“No, not like that. But it felt that way and I did notice it, I think. We always worked with little or nothing to show for it. Fixing equipment, sowing seeds, selling objects, eating, sleeping. Ma and I were not alone at the farm – there were others.”

Cedric inhales sharply across from me.

My knee begins bouncing at the flood of emotion and memory. “A man and his son lived next to us and Sawyer, your prince, across the pasture. The small village near us where we kept business had people too, but I never knew them personally, never interacted much, so I can’t share much about them.” I am struggling to speak of the village as if it wasn’t real.

It was so real.

Grenn passes a parchment to Avonde, who nods and makes a few marks before handing it back. My palms sweat on my skirt.

“And one day,” a drip of sweat lands on my tea plate, “it all stopped. I was forced into awakening here, as we now know.” Ire laces my words.

“That’s enough for today.” Avonde passes a cloth to me and I wipe my brow, thankful to be rid of this strange nostalgia.

Henry speaks now. “Liv, it is no secret that our sect has never experienced amnesia like this before. We have treated amnesia in the past, but where yours is different is that it is not directly linked to an injury. To our knowledge, your coma was the injury. Your cess magic intervened to protect your mind, body and spirit. That is good, but there is a sort of…” Henry looks to Avonde.

“Magical block,” she finishes for him.