CHAPTER TWO
The Mark
A stab of pain sliced through my head, light bursting before my eyes. A wave of nausea crashed into me. Though the moon had been bright I could no longer see even my hand before my face. I rolled off my bed and smashed into a glass washbasin on my bedside table. Glass sprayed everywhere, and I hit the floor. I tried to stand, but tripped, landing on my hands and knees in a pile of glass. Tears stung my eyes. I dragged myself to the vanity table, and forced herself upright, then fumbled for the handheld mirror. With on last sudden stab of pain, the pain vanished, and I collapsed. My breath came in short gasps, and my whole body shook. I lifted the mirror in front of my face, and gasped. I placed a hand on my collarbone and traced the small, blue, glowing, object that seemed to be burnt into my skin. A sun surrounded by a ring, a symbol for fire perched at the top point of the sun's rays, A symbol of a tornado at the right point, what looked like a splash of water at the bottom point, and a plant sprouting out of a mound of dirt at the left point. Vines moved out from it all along my collarbone to my shoulders. The glow it put off lit the entire room. I froze, as the sound of footsteps in the corridor reached my ears, then Peter burst through the door, lamp in hand. When he saw me he swore and shut the door behind him. He came and knelt beside me. My knees and hands stung from where glass shards were still embedded and had cut long streaks. He reached for my arms, his eyes on the mark.
“Peter?"
“Ellasis, you can't tell anyone about this."
“Peter, I don't know what's happening."
“Ellasis, remember those bed time stories I told you about those creatures who can control nature? The ones who used to cause all those natural disasters?"
“Yes?"
“They weren’t mere stories. This is their mark, they've marked you. I don't know why, however, if any of the palace guards see this mark, they'll kill you, Ellasis."
“Peter, what does this mean?"
“Ellasis...it means you are marked for death. They will come for you. Some say the mark itself is what kills. I don't know which one is true Ellasis, but I will do everything I can to stop them from hurting you. I promise you, that."
“The war, you need to focus on saving the kingdom, on organizing everything, Peter, It's better that I die, than the entire kingdom because we lost focus."
“Ellasis, you are all I have left. With Chani traveling around the kingdom acting as scribes woman for the war, there is no one else to help us. I will not let you be killed by those creatures. I know what I can manage. For now, you must keep that covered or you'll die by my own guards hands instead of theirs.”
“Alright.”
“Come, let us tend your wounds, do you have any aid supplies in here?"
“Just there." I pointed to a bag next to the bed. Peter lifted me, and walked around the shards of glass to set me on the bed. He propped a pillow behind me, then pulled out the aid kit. I couldn't understand how this could have happened? I had always thought those stories weren't real, and now… Peter sorted through the bag.
“There should be something to help remove the shards, and a bowl in that left compartment." He pulled them out and handed a set to her. She began to pick out the shards of glass and stick them in a bowl. Her vision became blurred multiple times, both because of the pain and because of what Peter had just told her. She sniffed. Peter plunked a few more glass shards into the bowl.
“This wound is too deep, we will have to stitch it up," he said, and took out a long shard of glass.
“Front compartment is the sewing kit, pass it to me?"
“Ellasis are you sure-" Peter handed her the kit.
“I can manage it just fine." I put on the gloves, and after cleaning off the wound pulled out the purifying solution, and rubbed a little on. Then I started to thread the needle.
“You aren't going to use the pain reliever?"
“I don't want to waist it." I said, and started sewing. It stung, but my entire body hurt at the moment.
“What can I do?" Peter asked.
“Stay with me?" I asked. I then snipped the string, knotted it, and started bandaging my other wounds.
“Of course, let me just clean up the glass." He went to the closet and found a broom in the very back, then swept up the glass shards. I laid back against the pillows, and watched him as he swept. The way he swept with his brows furrowed, and his hands clenching the broom too tight, the way his shoulders were lifted a little towards his ears, I knew she had to do something. He wouldn't give the war his full attention with my death sentence hanging in the future. I had to find a way to make him forget all about this. Even if it meant I lost all chance of survival.
The Wind In the River Page 2
