Serafina's Flame

by J. C. Hart

  Vana looked down to find that the older woman’s body had crumbled into ashes and was being whisked away by a warm wind.

  Aida

  1

  Aida inhaled. Her lungs burned, her body tingled with power. The sky overhead was bright and the light stung her eyes, but her mother’s shadow blotted out the sun.

  "My darling, are you okay?" Vana brushed Aida’s hair from her brow and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The coolness of Vana’s lips sent a shudder through Aida’s body.

  "Mother? I feel… different." Aida gasped, and the air hit her lungs like she’d just drunk deep from an icy well, so sharp it was almost painful. Her eyes widened in shock at the clarity of each sensation. She clutched her stomach. Something was swelling there, a lightness, a sense of bliss she’d never known, but she knew what it was. Who it was.

  "I can feel the goddess." She glanced down at her hands, spreading her fingers wide as if discovering them for the first time. There was a faint glow beneath the surface, shimmering in and out of visibility and she got lost in that. Wiggling her fingers, creating lines of light sparking along her veins. She could feel it as well as see it. "What happened?" The words left her mouth dry, fear and wonder waging war on her stomach.

  Vana pursed her lips. "You were hurt. Badly. It was… When I heard you cry out I thought this had all been for nothing. That I’d done everything I could to find you only to watch you die." Vana squeezed her hand, tears slipping down her face. "Carmel gave her life so the goddess would save you. How do you feel?"

  Aida thought about it for a moment, but she couldn’t seem to focus on what her mother had just said. Instead, she was full of love and joy. She smiled. "I feel amazing, Mother. Amazing." Aida got to her feet and held a hand out to Vana. It seemed to take too long for her mother to reach for it, and her fingers were cool in Aida’s grasp. Thoughts buzzed through Aida’s head like distant bees, but one surfaced. Home. Yes, that sounded right.

  "We must go home. There is so much to do." Aida stepped forward, her mind overwhelmed with the glow of life, the gift that Serafina and Carmel had given her.

  But Vana didn’t move.

  Aida turned, a gentle smile on her lips. "Come on, Mother. The children will be worried." She couldn’t help but notice the flicker of uncertainty on her mother’s face.

  "They will," Vana replied, letting Aida pull her on. "Wait, what about Carmel? We should try to take her with us."

  Aida laughed, realizing that her mother didn’t know what she knew; but then even Aida didn’t really know what she knew. "She’s with the goddess already. Besides, there is nothing left to take." Aida looked at the body, watched as it disintegrated and blew away on the wind. Serafina’s warmth lingered in the air and caressed her cheek. Aida closed her eyes and leaned into it.

  Vana coughed as though some of the dust had entered her lungs. Aida looked at her, feeling a strange combination of sadness and peace. She could sense a rift between them, and she knew it was because of the goddess. It bothered her, but she couldn’t seem to focus on it right now. There were so many other things to do.

  Resigned, Aida nodded and headed toward the forest. The children would be frightened; they needed her, just as they always had. Vana would follow. There was nothing left for them here.

  It only took a few steps before her head began to ache. The warm fog dissipated, and the buzz that started earlier was tearing apart, being drawn out into voices. That brief moment of clarity and calm disappeared entirely.

  She couldn’t seem to untangle her own thoughts from…

  We’re here with you now, little one, we always will be.

  That was definitely not her. That voice was timeless and powerful, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

  Not always here, another voice added, older, conciliatory. Just, most of the time. When you need us. When we need to be heard.

  She stopped walking and pressed her hands to her head. And what about what I need?

  Silence, then, for a full minute. Long enough for her confusion to swamp her, to turn her mood bitter. Just minutes ago she had been all but dead, and then she had been floating in bliss, and now she was inhabited by…

  You needed to survive. A surge of warmth flashed through Aida’s body, only this time it wasn’t a comfort.

  I’m not entirely sure I did. It sounds like it’s what you thought was best, and I get enough of that from my mother.

  Vana needed you to live. She fought for you, little one. She needed this miracle to keep her faith. There is little that is more important than faith. This was the timeless voice. She didn’t sound older than the other, but she was full of some ageless, ineffable quality which Aida couldn’t pin down. I am Serafina. And with the help of Carmel, we gave you a future, a mission, a purpose. You are my mouthpiece now that Carmel has passed. My beacon.

  Well, I am still here. My wisdom is yours to tap into, my powers yours too. This from Carmel.

  Aida cradled her head in her hands. She couldn’t seem to cry, but it felt like her skull might explode if she didn’t. She sank to the ground, ignoring the rocks biting into her.

  We’ll give you some space. Serafina, this time.

  And then it was quiet in her mind, though she was sure she could still feel them there, listening.

  For the longest time, her thoughts had been the only private place she’d had, and now…

  "Aida." Vana wrapped an arm around her shoulder, gave her a little shake. "What’s wrong?"

  She lifted her face, the tears finally coming. "I’m not sure, mother. I was alive, and then I almost wasn’t, and Carmel died for me, and now I feel things I couldn’t feel before and my head hurts and-"

  "You were almost dead." Vana’s lips tightened into a thin line. "I know. But you’re alive, and that’s really all that matters. You’ll feel better soon." Vana leaned down and brushed her lips against Aida’s forehead. "My baby. Carmel gave her life for you. I didn’t even want her to come with me, but if she hadn’t…"

  "She’s inside me now." The words were a whisper, but Aida felt Vana stiffen. "She gave her life, but she isn’t gone."

  Her mother held her tighter as if that would negate the truth. "You are still my daughter. No matter what."

  Aida nodded, relief flooding her. She couldn’t look her mother in the eyes just yet, but the way Vana gripped her gave her hope.

  See, everything is going to be fine, child.

  Shut up. Shutupshutupshutup.

  Silence.

  She inhaled as deeply as she could, struggling to maintain a façade of calm. "We should get back to the children, they’ll be worried." Aida slipped free from her mother’s embrace and brushed the dirt from her clothes before setting off.

  ***

  Aida turned back to her mother just before they reached the treeline. "Do I look different?" She’d been mulling on it, and she had to know before they reached the children. She didn’t want to scare anyone—she was scared enough herself.

  Vana paused before nodding. "Your hair is redder, and your skin has a glow to it."

  "I thought maybe only I could see that," Aida mumbled. She let out a sigh. "What will they think? The children."

  "Oh, Aida. They’ll be happy you’re still with us. Let me tell the story if you’re not ready to." Vana kissed her on the forehead then moved toward the trees. Aida took a deep breath and followed.

  By the time she caught up, the children had gathered around Vana, weariness clouding the relief on their small faces. In the days since they were taken, Aida had done everything she could to make it easier on them. She’d been the ‘adult’, carried those whose legs needed a rest, held them in the night when they woke crying, given portions of her food to the others to help them keep going.

  The Asakan’s hadn’t been able to travel quickly with a dozen children in tow, and they hadn’t been too unkind, but it was clear none of them wanted to be there. Not the children, not the guards. Not even the priestess who had avoided their company entirely, cam
ping by herself a short distance from the main group. Aida had tried to make sense of the situation, but it was impossible.

  All she’d known was that they were captive, and their homes burned.

  I know that feeling well, child. Your mother would have come alone, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you all suffering the same fate as I.

  I’m sorry, Aida thought. Carmel had been taken before Aida was born, but she’d heard the story: it was why they lived as they did. And thank you, she added, trying to turn her attention outside her mind again.

  "Now, I know she looks a little funny, but Aida is just the same as she was before," Vana said, glancing in her direction, then back at the children with a smile that suddenly disappeared. "You see, one of the men who captured you hurt her. He hurt her badly." Vana bit her lip here. "But Carmel, a wise woman that the goddess Serafina sent to us, used her magic and made Aida whole again. She touched her hair with the color of Serafina’s Flame, and reignited her life with the heat from the goddess’s breath."

  Aida had to admit that sounded good. Like one of the old stories.

  "Where’s Carmel?" Yosana asked.

  Aida crouched down in front of the children. "She gave up all her magic to fix me. And now she’s with the goddess."

  "But I thought Serafina didn’t care about us anymore? Why would she send Carmel to use her magic on you, Aida?" Christoph’s brow creased as he tried to figure it out.

  Aida wasn’t sure what to say. She’d been raised to believe one thing, but the last few hours of her life were showing her something different.

  "I think over time we forgot what it meant to be connected with Serafina," Vana offered. "Or at least, I know I did. Things will change for us all. You need to know that when we make it back to the village your families won’t be there. They’ve gone ahead to make new homes for us all. We will find them."

  A chorus of voices spoke up then. New homes? But I want my mother! I liked our old homes. I’m tired. I’m hungry. Where is the goddess now? Do I have to worship her too?

  "Quiet," Vana said, her words coming out a little harsh.

  Aida threw her a glare and moved in front of her mother. "What she means, is that we’ve been here too long. We have to get moving in case the Asakan’s come back for us." She surveyed their faces and wished that she had the power to pick them all up and run them home. "Can you be brave for a little longer?"

  No one spoke, but a few nodded and started to walk, their small feet retracing steps they’d not long taken.

  2

  Aida’s skin tingled and itched. It no longer felt like it fit her. Her body had already been changing before she died, was already uncomfortable as puberty made its mark, skin stretching to make way for womanly curves, broadening hips, blossoming bosom, as they say, but now it was even worse. It was like she’d been burned on the inside, and she couldn’t satisfy the itch of her healing wounds.

  When will this stop? Aida asked. It had been quiet for hours now. She didn’t want them to come back, but she had to know.

  It’s different for everyone, little one. I’m sorry, Serafina spoke.

  It will pass though, and you’ll feel better than ever. When I went through the fire I felt youthful again, I felt a strength I’d never known, Carmel added.

  Aida thought about that for a moment. She didn’t want to be younger—she was already young. So what did that mean for her?

  Will I… Will I still age?

  You will. You may even find you age faster. Your body will move towards its prime at the rate the fire deems fit.

  But the fire is yours, can’t you control it? Aida felt like she couldn’t get a breath in, and it wasn’t because they were walking uphill. She moved without thinking, one foot in front of the other. A child on her back, another holding her hand, but she might as well have been alone.

  Well, alone as one got with two others residing within.

  Serafina must have sensed her anxiety because a flood of peace washed over her so suddenly that she stopped walking.

  "You okay?" asked Lucian, the boy by her side.

  "Yeah, yeah I am." Aida gave him a tight smile and squeezed his hand. "Let’s keep going."

  "I can’t wait to get home. I want my daddy."

  "Well, I am sure he’ll be pleased to see you too, sweetie." Aida gripped his hand firmer, hoping that his dad was alive, hoping he wasn’t one of those she’d seen on the ground.

  She had barely thought about it since she’d come back from the dead, so caught up in her own head that she hadn’t spared much thought for what waited back in the village.

  There is nothing you can do about that, little one. What is done, is done.

  They aren’t there now. The survivors have moved on. I told them of a place where we could make a new home. A safe home. Carmel this time.

  Shhhhhh.

  She pushed them down, tried to lock them in a corner of her mind, but instead she only seemed to lock herself up. She walked on, the miles passing beneath her feet, her mind cycling in the same loop.

  Who am I? What am I? Who am I what am I who am I what am I?

  ***

  "Carmel said our new home will be on the other side of the mountain." Aida sat down beside her mother. They’d made camp for the night and the children were sleeping in a pile, wedged together for warmth, not that it was that cold. Their small bodies couldn’t mimic the comfort of the parents they so badly missed, but it was better than nothing.

  Aida wanted to curl up with them, though she was too old for that, and her mother was right there beside her. She leaned in. Rested her head on Vana’s shoulder. Vana instinctively reached an arm around her, pressing a kiss onto her head.

  "We’re going to make a fresh start, somewhere the Asakan’s can’t find us. After that happened… We didn’t want to take any risks. I don’t want you to ever go through that again."

  "They didn’t hurt us, mother. Not after that first night."

  "Are you defending them?" Vana stiffened.

  "No, not that. I just wanted you to know that we’re all okay. We’re safe. You saved us. None of us are damaged."

  Vana hmphed. "I hear them murmuring in their sleep. I hear you."

  Aida swallowed the lump in her throat. "I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be sad."

  "Oh, darling. I’m not sad. Well. I am sad, but that’s normal. Your whole life, all I wanted was to keep you safe. You know I left your father because of what he did to me. I couldn’t bear the thought of what he might do to you. And then this happened." Tears ran down her cheek and Aida reached out, wiping one away.

  Aida had never seen her mother cry before, only heard her in the night sometimes, or seen a slight wetness to her eyes. "I’m here now. I’m safe." Her words only made her mother cry harder.

  Vana folded in on herself and Aida cradled her, stroked her hair and murmured reassuring words.

  You’re a good daughter, little one. A good soul. See how she needs you?

  But she’s my mother. What if I need her?

  A chuckle trembled through her veins. You’ve seen what she will do for you when you need her. Let her break and heal tonight. Tomorrow she will be strong again, and if she isn’t, then I’m always here for you.

  Warmth flooded through Aida’s body, radiated out through her fingers as she traced lines of comfort on her mother’s back. She couldn’t decide whether this made her feel better or worse.

  Everything was different.

  3

  They had been travelling for three days.

  Aida carried Lucian on her back, and while her legs were longer and stronger than most of the children, even she felt tired. Her mother walked in the lead, always alert, as if she could make up for the children’s abduction by being more vigilant now. But Aida knew they wouldn’t be followed. Not now, anyway. She wasn’t sure exactly how, but she could sense the things around them: the living creatures, the plants.

  And their group was the only one here.

  The walk had g
iven her time to think, to digest the way that everyone looked at her now. Aida had always been a wilful child, but with Vana as her mother that was almost to be expected. No one had treated her badly because of it, and she had been adored by many, the other children in particular. Being slightly older meant she was the leader, and was often left to care for them when their parents were busy.

  And she loved that. The way their small arms had reached around her, the way she’d felt needed, important. But now the children she knew so well looked at her with something else in their eyes. Not fear—not exactly. Awe? She wasn’t sure she knew the right word for it yet, but she didn’t want to ask her mother, because Vana’s eyes were fearful, and it was all Aida could do to meet her gaze.

  Vana raised her hand as she returned to the group, and the children stumbled to a stop behind Aida.

  "We’re getting close to the village now. It’s a bit of a mess, so try not to let that bother you. We’ll gather supplies before we go, but I want to check that it’s safe first."

  "We’ve met no one else on our journey, mother." Aida glanced at the children. "Can’t we get there and then let them rest?" She met Vana’s gaze, begging her to notice the strain the children were under, but Vana turned away.

  "Wait for me here and I’ll be back as soon as possible."

  Aida swallowed the words in her mouth. There was no point arguing with her mother, there never had been. Instead she turned to face the children, taking them in one at a time. Their shoulders sagged, and a few yawned. It had been hard sleeping in the open. None of them were accustomed to the hunter’s lifestyle.

  She sank to the ground, pulling Lucian off her back and sitting him on her knee. He was nearly asleep, even though she hadn’t been gentle. He needed his parents, really, but it would be days yet before they found them.

  "Sit, children. Vana will be back soon enough, but until then, take the weight off your feet." She patted the ground beside her, waiting for Yosana to snuggle into her side like she normally did, but the little girl sat across from her instead. Aida felt a pang of sorrow. "Do you fear me now, Yosana? I’m not so different."