by N. I. Rojas
Weeks ago, he was the happiest guy of all the worlds! But he couldn’t recognize it.
How many times the mermaid song had interrupted him, calling his name, her spellbinding voice traveling through the wind, and he kept falling again and again in the spell she was casting on him. Closing his eyes, he just traveled away, far from the Wizard to an earlier time. Mackenzie was happy of his conversation with Incantatrix. It hadn’t been a friendly chat, but they had been sincere. It wasn’t easy for Mackenzie to understand the role he was playing in the story, but at least Incantatrix made him see the only available option for him and Kyra. Trusting in Incantatrix was maybe the wisest thing he had done, though he wasn’t completely sure. He had told her what he was up to, and so did she, and he understood she was just pursuing Alter Land’s stability, as well as Kyra’s wellbeing.
Incantatrix wasn’t mad at him for having gone after the girl. In fact, she was rather pleased, despite the reasons to search for Kyra weren’t the cleverest. Now that Kyra was there, everything could continue its pre-established course. Mackenzie needed to understand that. For that reason, stories were invented everyday… to keep the course, to play along, to entertain, to die in life, to live in death.
Mackenzie didn’t know too much about stories, but he also didn’t know much about life either. He was just a child living forever. A child taken away from his world, from a family he didn’t remember, from dreams and the opportunity to have a fairly normal life… that was everything he was. Who he never came to be, and who he never would. He understood now that Kyra was just a book on her own, a place full of magic and undiscovered imagination. She needed the opportunity to live and Alter Land needed her alive. This was his chance to fix it all, even though the price to pay was his own life.
“You’re going for a little ride while I return. I have unfinished business yet.” -The Wizard stood beside Mackenzie, slapping him softly in the cheeks. - “But I promise you, Mack. Everything ends at the beginning.”
Chapter 27: The rebirth of the Enchanted Forest
A witch’s house is a place to visit, especially in a moment of desperation. While Kyra waited for her father to be healed inside Incantatrix’s house, she just sat on the porch, looking straight at the moon that was marking the time she had left to live. Mackenzie was out there somewhere, but everything was useless at this point. The Graphylux had no magic left. The book in her backpack doesn’t contain any important secret or hidden clue to end victorious this time. Three boys and a young girl playing the warrior diva were her entire cavalry.
The Leavers had agreed to help heal the dentist, but they wanted him out of Alter Land as soon as he opened his eyes. It was a dangerous place for a single mortal like him. Weak as he was, he had no chances to survive in this hostile world. Incantatrix had promised to send Kyra’s father home as soon as he could walk, although Kyra couldn’t understand why she had been so benevolent with them.
Leavers weren’t just shadows hiding among the trees. Their skin tones ranged from carnation to a beautiful bright green. The fact that they were naked, wearing only flowers or moss covering their private parts, was what flustered Kyra the most. Has it not been for the greenish color of the skin, they would be like her or any other human, but with a supernatural beauty. Their faces weren’t wearing smiles but a cloak of seriousness that showed their immense wisdom. At their side, Kyra felt ignorant, a brute brat fallen from her own nightmare into someone else’s beautiful dream. Compared with the Leaver’s knowledge, Kyra knew nothing. They know about every leaf and flower, about time, about storms. They know how to cure every disease in their world. Yet they were stuck for eternity in pages of a book nobody will never read.
Making inventory of what was still in her backpack, Kyra found Mackenzie’s flute. She held it firmly between her fingers trying to remember his face, or at least some of those irritating words he always dared to pronounce. Pain was the only thing inside and that staggered her the most.
“Your papa is awake.” -One of the male Leavers came looking for her, guiding Kyra to her father’s side. The Leaver walked with pride despite his nakedness, as in paradise, without recognizing it or feeling ashamed. Kyra kept walking alongside this stranger, trying to look away to disguise her embarrassment.
“Is he better now?” -Kyra asked in low voice, trying to shush the thousand echoes in her brain.
“I cannot say. There’s a strong magic harming him. We’re helping him to deal with it, but this world is doing him no good. The best is sending him back home. Maybe the effects can fade if he’s far away.” -The Leaver explained.
“What kind of magic is affecting my father?” -She asked starting to doubt in the Leavers’ powers.
“One never seen before. Evil magic as no other.” -The Leaver whispered without further explanations. As soon as he said those words, he left. She looked at her father before cutting the distance separating them. With three steps she was already grabbing his hand. The warm in his body made her say prayers she didn’t even know she remembered. He coughed before saying her name a few times.
“I’m right beside you, dad. Rest, soon I’ll take you home.” -She said but didn’t dare to promise it aloud.
“I guess I owe you an explanation.” -Her father tried unsuccessfully to sit down.
“No, dad. It’s okay. I get it.” -She answered back, but truth was she didn’t understand anything. She just wanted to know how it was possible for a birthday night to last so long when she was sure that many times she had gone to sleep and in a glance it was sunrise already.
“But I need to… The stories I told you… The fantasy tales… Everything was true. I just wanted to keep your mother alive in our memory. I had the belief that it would make her return to us one day.” -He confessed.
“It’s okay, dad. I understand and I don’t need this. We both need to accept that she’s gone. Maybe is for good.” -Kyra contradicted her father just wanting him to stop talking. He was weak. Fatigue and dehydration had taken the best of him. Rest was the only thing to help him, and some food. Until the Leavers could come with a cure for the evil magic affecting the dentist, rest was his only ally.
“But she’s not gone, Baby Ky.” -He admitted in shame. At that instant, she didn’t know what to feel or think about her father’s confession. Many times she had felt that her mother was at her side, just the way she dreamed of Shimmerhorn. Kyra followed her father’s gaze to a window across the room. Through that window they could see Incantatrix, who was sitting in a fallen log, elbows and knees connected, resting together, and her chin prisoner in her palms.
“Dad?” -Kyra asked when a crazy idea came to her mind. It couldn’t be possible. Kyra wasn’t at ease with the idea that her mother had abandoned her, but she was resigned. She knew what she had, and she knew what she didn’t need. Maybe she wasn’t satisfied, but she was content with just having her dad.
“I’m so confused right now, Ky… I don’t know what to think.” -The dentist confessed.
“I just hope you don’t mean what I think you do.” -Kyra stated, keeping her eyes to where Incantatrix was lethargic. The position in which the witch was resting was so similar to Kyra’s. - “What about your wife? You have two wives? Isn’t that illegal or something?” -A little offended and shocked she asked while straightening to a normal sitting position.
“Oh, no.” -He answered, a bit startled by the question. A shy smile appeared on his dry lips. - “Your mother and I, we weren’t married. She was my girlfriend. We were overly liberals, Kyra, just the way I tell you that’s inappropriate. But this day can change everything. I feel so terrible. I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, dad. You may want to hold on those feelings and make no choices now. You are still like drugged. This has been all crazy. Maybe we are still under the effects of some drug someone put into the punch. Was the party just last night or days has gone by?” -She said sheepishly.
“I’m sorry to make you go through this. It’s my fault. I forced you to c
ome, didn’t give you the chance to decide. I was really hoping to find Jadline in here. To fix our lives forever. I didn’t think on the consequences.” -The dentist said while trying, unsuccessfully, to sit again. Gesturing his daughter to give him a deep bowl that was resting in the night table, he managed to vomit. He was lucky. Kyra had tried this a few times, but she had nothing inside.
Curiosity overcame the nasty feeling stuck in her throat, making Kyra to look into the bowl to see what her father had been eating since he was taken prisoner. To her surprise, Kyra saw petals and tiny seeds.
“Dad? Who was feeding you?” -Kyra asked with interest, but her father had fallen asleep as soon as he puked.
White petals... two inches long. Seemed like he had swallowed them without chewing. Kyra held the bowl and as fast as she could manage, she went straight to the porch trying not to spill any of the nasty filling of the bowl, yelling Incantatrix’s name all the way. The witch hurried to Kyra’s side, worried that the yells could mean another emergency. Extending her arms, Kyra showed Incantatrix the bowl.
Unscrupulously, Incantatrix sank her fingers into the dentist’s vomit, extracting some of the petals and a few seeds.
“Datura Inoxia!” -Incantatrix recited with fearful surprise. - “Who was giving this to your father? This grows nowhere close to where he was held.”
“He didn’t tell me. He fell asleep after puking.” -Kyra answered confused, tangled emotions for her mother’s acting as if she was a total stranger. She wished to hug her, but she forbade herself to do such thing. To show that she was weak, vulnerable, a crying baby? That would never happen.
“This is bad. Whoever was feeding him was trying to make him go delusional. This plant, every bit of it, causes harm to the nervous system, induces coma, hallucinations, and death. In human’s world, this plant is prohibited as it’s considered one of the most dangerous drugs. This can make you think you are playing with unicorns when you’re truly walking to jump off a cliff. They were trying to kill him slowly, just giving us the chance to find him dead or nearly dying. It was a luck your friends and you found him.”
Forgetting to keep the brave façade she was wearing, Kyra sat in the floor to cry. How she had allowed all this to happen? Why she had delayed the time, hanging around with Mackenzie as if they were lovebirds?
Mackenzie… She couldn’t believe what she had done to him. She had acted with resentment against Mackenzie leaving him without voice. She had hurt all the people she cared about. She wished she could take it all back.
Incantatrix sat beside her, but Kyra moved a few feet away from the witch.
“I’m really surprised with your attempt to harm the un-aging boy.” -Incantatrix told her as if she was capable of reading her mind. - “I must admit I never thought you’ll do something like this.” -Incantatrix said, reserving any other punishable detail.
“It was your idea after all. To make him pay, remember?” -Kyra claimed.
“I was referring to keep him at distance, not trying to kill him twice.” -Incantatrix said without trying to sound criticizing. - “I imagine what you’ve been through and I can feel it too. But you must understand both your destiny and the boy’s. One of you must die, and I’m not going to let you die for him. His blood and your stay will restore Alter Land and everybody else’s life, including your father.”
“There must be another way that doesn’t include anyone’s death.” -Kyra suggested. She feared for Mackenzie. For what she had done to him and for what he was doing to himself. Hopefully he would be far from the Wizard at that precise moment, but she knew better than that.
“If there was another way, I would have done it already. But I won’t let your blood run just to save that boy’s life. You are very precious to me.” -Incantatrix confessed trying to caress Kyra’s hand with her own. Startled, Kyra drew back her hand.
“So precious you didn’t come a single day in fifteen years.” -Kyra stood up, saying it aloud. It wasn’t a question but a statement. With a jump, Kyra was out of the house’s porch. - “That’s how valuable I’m to you. I don’t need your motherly concern now.”
Regrets. Guilty conscience. Heartache. All of them Kyra felt. Not exactly for finding out her mother was alive after fifteen years of absence, but the recognition of that woman as not a real human but a character, ink-made, hand-made, with the role to be a witch. It was yet to be discovered if she was a good or a bad witch, but knowing it made no big difference for Kyra. In what kind of monster this new truth turned Kyra? Mackenzie had been quite far from reality calling her Fairy Girl. Considering it better, being a Fairy Girl wouldn’t have been bad at all. Girls of normal fairy tales end up discovering they are princesses, perhaps fairies, but she had to go through all this to find out she was a witch. And not only that. But that she had lived a life of an impostor in a world to which she didn’t belong.
Now everything made sense. The only reason why her father never made her a blood test in her life was because he knew what he would find. Ink. A black tar as the only thing holding her to a life of falsehood. That was why she never got sick. She was so far from home that rules didn’t apply to her. Urgently needing fresh air after her father’s confession and the exchange of negative words with her mother, Kyra ran out of Incantatrix’s house, heading to the densest area of the Enchanted Forest.
Without stopping, without pausing to think, Kyra just wished to stab her own hand with a silver fork to urgently wake up to reality, to see with own eyes her blood and understand if she was no different from a car, mechanically running with oil. Nobody dared to go after her as they were certain she would return because her father was still there.
Biting hard the inner part of the cheek with her sharp, fluoride left fang, Kyra slipped quickly between the creatures coming and going in Incantatrix’s garden. Leaving them all behind, Kyra didn’t dare to take a glance back, not even to look at her mother. She could have sworn she tasted the blood inside her mouth, gooey and hot, staining her ever white teeth. She spat several times. Just think about having her mouth full of ink made her feel a sick revulsion.
Running into the forest, very far from the tumult of creatures and people, she knew she could be alone to think for some minutes. With difficulty, Kyra managed to climb a tree. A strong, fat branch served her as seat, the emergency refuge she needed so badly. There, disguised with dry leaves, she allowed herself to cry. With the tip of her fingers Kyra wiped away the tears running down her cheeks, but she was crying a stream.
“I wish I could save my father.” -She said between sobs. - “I wish I could save Mackenzie.”
Kyra hugged herself while unsuccessfully tried to control her breathing and crying. Thin clouds came out of her mouth, her hot breath crashing with the coldness of the night. One more time she wiped her tears, this time stroking her wet fingers against the withered bark of the tree.
“I wish I could save you, tree. I wish I could save all the forest.” -And she really meant it. Never in her life had she worried so badly for something or someone apart from herself and her father. She never considered how her life depended on nature and how little she gave in exchange.
Suddenly Kyra felt cuddled and, taking advantage of the sensation, she rested her head against the tree. Its bark was rough, almost hurting her skin with its sharp edges and calluses, but it also felt like home, like protection.
“If only I were powerful enough, I could save you all and restore everything. If I were a fairy or a deity or… something better than a witch. You all deserve more than just me. Maybe I’m not the Keeper you are awaiting. Maybe I’m just like Mackenzie, winning time to someone else.”
The tree moved softly, rocking her to a calming lullaby. The more she talked, the more the tree moved, as in recognition of her words.
“Are you really listening to me? Cause I’ve been thinking I just lost my mind and now it seems you try to say something.” -Kyra asked softly, almost reverently, touching the tree. From the other side of the tree, camouflaged with
the strong, dry bark, a figure appeared. Kyra wanted to yell but found herself without the strength to achieve it. It was a young man, perhaps a few years older than her, or maybe a millennium or two. From first impression Kyra thought he was a Leaver, but at least this boy was wearing some clothes. The material resembled Mackenzie’s green stockings, but camouflage brown and he wore handmade combat boots. To his waist, a belt made from rawhide was garnished with different kinds of weapons. Giant crocodile fang knife. Red dandelion itchy dust. Tangena poisoned arrows and other rudimentary weapons Kyra couldn’t precise its uses.
