by Edison G. S.
Andreas questioned if she worried about his well-being. At times even he wondered if she was in love with his status or with him. “I am the Sub-Commander and I will decide. Worry yourself with our daughter and I will take care of the witch,” he had replied to Marie’s suggestions.
After that, Marie had not questioned his judgment; however Yvette was quite different. She was in a position of power and was becoming more authoritative every day. Even some of his own men were beginning to disregard his commands and following her orders.
Andreas lacked patience for this insolent woman. He stood right up in front of her face and spat, “You should realize not everything that crosses your mind or you hear is true.”
“Whether it is true or not, I will not take risks. I want the witches out and you have not been acting on those orders. You have one day,” Yvette threatened.
“Melantha helped me defeat Alar, one of the most powerful demons out there. I do not see you doing anything as powerful as what she did!” .
“Regardless of what she made you think she did, I refuse to take the risk and I expect you to send the witch and her friends away.”
Andreas though for a second about the rumors surrounding the village; some people were accused of witchcraft and every suspect had a price on her head. Yvette wanted to rid the village of them before they used their powers. He knew Melantha did not deserve to die nor would he allow it. “I have chosen a side,” he said, “and it is not with you.” It hurt him to abandon his troops, but he was forced to make a greater decision.
Yvette’s mouth formed a victorious smile. “Guards!” the woman roared. The soldiers standing guard outside entered Andreas’ home following Yvette’s orders instead of Andreas’. “Take him to the dungeon,” she ordered. The guards grabbed him by his arms and dragged him outside.
As the soldiers were heaving their former commander outside his home, Andreas noticed several heads rotting on spikes; Yvette’s decree to rid the village of witches and their supporters was prevalent.
Marie ran outside crying uncontrollably. Even Jeremiah ran outside sobbing. “Leave my brother alone!” he demanded.
For the first time, Andreas heard him speak. He felt deeply loved in that moment. He had questioned Marie’s love, but his answer came at a high cost. Even Brianne cried inside the house, where servants cared for her.
Andreas scanned the crowd screaming and jeering at him, some even throwing stones; Marie was hit several times as she covered him with her body. “No. No, leave,” he screamed at her, but she remained next to him.
He had once been the proud Sub-Commander of the Frozen Land, but no longer would he carry that title..
Melantha
She stood motionless looking through the glass window. Her eyes fixed on the pines barely moving by the snowy wind. Her house was isolated from the others. Growing up, she did not feel a sense of belonging, as if she was part of anything and she still was not. But she was not interested; she enjoyed her solitude and would never want to live in the village. Her small house was a refuge for her thoughts.
Melantha had witnessed many things in her long lifetime, including things that had not happened yet. In the past, she and her six sisters shared so many things and she knew she could tell them anything. Her premonitions were stronger then though they have weakened with age and her remaining sisters equally have weakened. Still, she remembered when she first met them many years ago in the old house in Cadeno.
“We are sisters, not of blood, but born of the order,” one of her sisters said when Melantha moved into the house. “You must join us and together we will be powerful enough to make anybody in The Land of The Men do as we wish.”
In her youth, Melantha and the other witches were seduced by the notion of power; they took risks and did not fear death. Their ancestors were blamed for creating the demons and were burned as punishment. The sisters refused to be treated in such blasphemous ways. They had been ridiculed many times by those accusing them of witchcraft and allowed their emotions to cloud their vision causing them to use their magic to eradicate people.
But with age came maturity and with maturity came responsibility over their powers. As elders, their ideology was to protect people. Some of the sisters had families, children, and hid their powers; they each moved away from Cadeno to protect their offspring. With the years, some of the sisters died and others’ families were killed or taken by the demons, such as Melantha’s. And then there were others whom remained isolated for eternity, knowing the people of The Land of The Men would never understand their true essence.
Many tragedies occurred before the sisters decided to protect the weak instead of destroying them. As a young woman, Melantha killed a man by making him choke on his own blood. He claimed she was a witch and should burn, even though the witch hunts were long forgotten. He did not have proof, but she refused to succumb to ignorant conjectures or allow them to be reciprocated.
The witches of the order were consumed by their selfish desires for quite some time, but they knew The Land of The Men would eventually need help, especially with a ruler incapable of caring for those entrusting him.
Now, Melantha was willing to die to protect The Land of The Men and avenge her family. For years, she hid her powers, and those of her son, with various spells. Her boy inherited her magic, but he never used it.
Long before the troops from Lera arrived, she sensed a dark feeling she knew she could not stop. They are bringing death with them. She conjured a few words discernible only by her sisters near and far; “The pale woman will bring the Frozen Land to its knees. She will cause destruction and her mistakes will impact The Land of The Men”
Her eyes stared blindly through the window as she sat in her worn, wooden rocking chair. The tea in her cup on top of the table had gone cold. Tea helped her to deal with her visions, but it was not enough anymore. Visions of a multitude of years accumulated in her mind creating confusion and sadness. Until she took her last breath, her visions would be reminiscent of the tragedies she saw and may have prevented. Even the fire that killed many people in the village years ago could have been prevented if she had spoken to the right people. But she did not attempt to, knowing the villagers would not trust her but would most likely accuse her. The night of the fire, she did not peer outside her windows, even when the billowing smoke drifted toward her small home, she did not make an effort to see the result.
Now, she had a chance to alter the outcome of the destruction approaching. She had anticipated what was to come and having Andreas trust her an important tactical move. Giving him the dagger was beyond smart.
She was saddened for the upcoming events, but it was a necessary evil. Even though she would not interfere, she would ensure those that needed to live would be protected.
I have to protect him, she thought. But she could not do it alone. It is time to call the witches of The Land of The Men; it is starting.
Andreas
The Frozen Land is said to be the home of the first men that existed. History books recite it as tundra until the earthquakes and volcanoes appeared. The first earthquakes divided the land into four areas. When the volcano under the Royal Waters, formerly Castela, erupted, islands formed around it. Humans settled throughout the lands, recording history in books preserved for the ages.
Eventually, the land was known as The Land of The Men and kings began reigning over the territories. Generation after generation, brave men fought for control, but the Kennicot family remained supreme for three generations.
Andreas had been proud of the Frozen Land, especially as a Sub-Commander. Now, he was nothing. The chains were taut around his wrists causing unbearable pain, but what worried him the most was what had happened to Marie, Brianne, and Jeremiah. He prayed and cried to the Frozen God that they were able to escape Yvette. His boys were away and would never find out about their father’s demise.
It had been a week since his capture. Yvette would ensure not to waste food on a prisoner, providing just
enough nourishment for him to live. His troops swore allegiance to him, but the throne always came first. The king put Yvette in control and her orders were obeyed as his. On the other hand, there were still people loyal to Andreas.
Some soldiers occasionally brought him extra food, but this time it was different. They served him a small amount of food, but the gift in his food was better than a complete banquette.
He almost swallowed a key that was carefully hidden in a cup of rice. He smirked knowing he still had allies that cared for him. He took the key and unlocked the cuffs securing him to a cold stonewall. With weakened legs, he stood up; stumbling, he reached the door that was left ajar. Whoever was helping him knew exactly what to do—everything was ready for him.
He left the empty room behind and walked around the hall; wooden doors were located on both sides. At times, he leaned against a wall to regain his stability. He could hear people crying behind some doors—criminals, some he had locked away in there. He navigated through the dungeon better than most soldiers. He spent many times giving orders and establishing justice. Now, he had to escape like the criminals he caught; his pride was reduced to pieces.
He weaved through all the halls he knew were empty and finally reached the street. Knowing he would not be safe without a disguise, he grabbed a scarf from a table before going outside and wrapped it around his face. Still, he would probably be recognized, but hopefully only by the ones loyal to him.
He was imprisoned too long to know if it was morning or night, but when he looked at the sky it was turning dark already. On the street, a wagon was parked right next to the door he escaped from; instinctively, he climbed in thinking it was empty. To his surprise, Marie was sitting at the helm. Jeremiah was hiding on some hay and keeping Brianne warm. The wagon was covered by a roof, making the escape easy, but they had little time to reach Marli and then the Forest. If night fell, they would need to find shelter somewhere, maybe a loyal soldier’s home, although Andreas would not want to risk a soldier’s family.
“My love,” Andreas said and hugged Marie with all his strength. Tears welled in their eyes. He wiped her tears away carefully and realized the deep purple marks on her eyes. Anger burst through his body knowing the marks were given to her by Yvette’s men.
Ashamed, she turned away, “I refused to leave our home, so they hit me and threw me on the streets like a whore.” She started crying, “I have been living in one of our soldier’s houses and missing you.”
His face turned red and his hands formed fists. “They will pay for this. I will kill them,” he shouted. “One by one, I will rip their heads off!” Small veins in his eyes covered his pupils making them seem red as a devil’s.
“My love, let it go. We must leave,” she caressed his elongated beard. It had grown longer and dirtier with his imprisonment. “It is better if we leave now. They will be looking for us.”
Her soft hands calmed his anger, “You are right, we are leaving.”
She moved the mules and started their journey. The children were in the back and suddenly Jeremiah appeared and hugged his brother from behind.
“I missed you,” the boy said. Andreas was the only one remaining in his family and he felt joyful to see his brother at last.
Andreas was proud of him. “You should never stay quiet again. No matter what, you are an Akio, and you are strong,” he said.
The wagon rode through the snowy streets. “Where is everybody?” Andreas asked after seeing the empty streets. It was getting dark, but it was still early enough for people to be outside.
“Yvette offered an enormous amount of silver to anyone who turned in the witch, Melantha.”
Andreas swallowed hard, “What is that woman actually thinking?”
“After they captured you, soldiers have been chasing witches. Yvette had not been able to catch Melantha; surely the woman has some sort of power to hide away. It is a shame; the other accused were not real witches.”
“Who else was accused?” Andreas questioned, worry and concern laced his words.
Marie kept silent for a minute and then gathered the strength to talk again, “About twenty women have been burned, accused of witchcraft, as the old books say occurred many years ago when witches were powerful and evil.”
“It is nonsensical!”
“It is. Andreas, it was so sad,” He reflected Marie just called him by his name in extremely stressful situations. “Many of those women were young girls and their mothers were accused as well. They were burned together and often looked at each other as if wanting to see a loving face before dying,” Marie started crying and Andreas held her hand tightly. She continued talking, “The baker’s wife, our neighbor Gisele, and our servant, Sebina. They were all burned.” Her crying intensified and Andreas hugged her. “People much rather stay inside all day now. They do not want to witness any more horror.”
His eyes wandered toward her silky locks and he inhaled the scent of lavender. He had missed her so much and chastised himself for doubting her love for him. Suddenly, as he lifted his eyes, he saw a group of soldiers approaching on horses.
“We have to move along,” he said as he grabbed the reins, but before he could try to hustle away, Brianne started crying. He knew he could not try to escape; it was too risky for an infant. He would rather surrender instead of putting the baby, his family, at risk.
The soldiers approached the wagon and Andreas knew there was only one thing he could do. “All right, all right!” he screamed as he stepped down from the wagon and stood with his hands high as a sign of surrender.
“You are smart, aren’t you?” Yvette appeared within the group of men.
He held his tongue, but stared at her with reproaching eyes, abhorring her more than ever.
“But you are not intelligent enough if you still think I will let you go once again,” she continued. “Tie him up to a pole in the center of the village,” she commanded with a slight gaze at her soldiers. “You are guilty of treason and I believe you know the punishment for such an act.”
“If you kill me you will start a fight between our troops” he pleaded, while the guards took him by his arms.
“You no longer have troops. You do not have any authority in this land anymore,” she said with a smug grin.
“You wench!” he bellowed, shoving the men away, trying to regain his freedom.
Yvette sneered without shame, “Now that I think about it, kill the woman and the children, too.”
Yvette
For a split second, her eyes danced in doubt. She thought of her own son; it was not fair to murder children. She was going too far.
The soldiers looked at her in disbelief; their eyes exploring her face with uncertainty. It was a barbaric punishment and they did not want to carry it out, especially in front of their former Sub-Commander, but as long as she was certain of the decision, they would follow.
She knew she could not back up in her word. She gave a quick look at her soldiers, hoping somebody would try to challenge her decision. Nobody challenged her. “You heard me,” she commanded the soldiers, knowing she could not rescind her orders.
“Let them go, please,” Andreas pleaded as he was dragged to the center of town. She needed someone to plead for the children and she would release them without guilt. But it was not supposed to be Andreas. If she listened to a traitor she would not be respected by her troops.
The soldiers dragged Marie as she screamed for her baby. The soldiers seized the boy and the crying baby, even though she was unaware of the situation. Villagers started to fill the town square to witness their leader and his family put to death.
“Come everybody,” Yvette screamed. “Look with your own eyes at the man you followed.” It was her moment to reassure her position as the new leader. Moreover, if she pushed the people from the Frozen Land to start a fight, her mission would be easier. The only downfall would be the lives of the children; their death would haunt her every night she kissed her son goodnight.
Some
villagers peered through windows; a few ran toward the family about to be punished. Some people cried and defended them, but the soldiers pushed them down, injuring some of them.
Yvette wanted Andreas to receive a complete punishment, which meant she would force him to watch his loved ones put to death. Still, uncertainty filled her thoughts, Whom have I become?
Marie would be the first to be strung up to the pole. At least if she went first someone might plead for the children and they would not have to endure death.
Though it was cold, Marie was drenched in sweat and tears. She stood in silence, sobbing and looking with regret at her husband who was fighting with all his strength to free himself from his shackles.
Yvette stood tall in front of Marie with a torch in her pale hand. “This is what happens to anybody who dares to betray the king!” she yelled and touched the torch to the hay, setting it ablaze.
Omar
For quite some time, he knew magic blood existed in his family, but he never suspected he could be a wizard. He touched his cheeks as he remembered his aunt’s words. Since that incident, Neil fell into an unconscious state. Omar made sure to feed him some warm soup every day, but the boy had not shown any signs of life anymore. It was as if he had given up.
Your brother will die, he remembered her saying. If things kept the same rhythm, soon Omar would also give up.
He was feeding his brother, when it occurred to him to do one last thing to save Neil’s life. He stood up and ran to his aunt’s bedroom. The woman was absent, giving him an opportunity to save his brother’s life. He opened a few drawers and quickly found a bag of silver coins. Not wasting a second, he shoved the leather bag in his pant pocket and ran through the hall.
