“You see, power seeks power, and it was not long before those first mages sought each other out. Each wanted to be considered the most powerful, and they warred. Their egos would not accept that any other might be an equal or better. It wasn't long before they destroyed each other. I would suppose that because they were all on equal standing when it came to abilities and weakness and too blind to realize it, it was the only possible conclusion.
“In their destruction, the magic was broken and their souls were set free. The magic scattered across the various races of humankind like sand across the desert after a storm. It snuck through doorways and drifted across lands, took root in the human seed, and grew. For some, enough magic found them to give true power. For most, it was only a touch of magic that faded over time despite leaving a mark deep within them.
“Magic found a way into humans. Some who felt the power sought others and gathered to share and explore knowledge. Others did not recognize the feeling and went on about their lives, possibly passing the gift on to another generation. No matter the case, magic lived on.
“The souls of those great mages, though! They scattered in all directions, no longer a part of the existence they had once taken for granted, but no doubt still seeking it. Perhaps they wanted to become strong again in the presence of magic or perhaps they sought to redeem themselves by helping those who now held the gift they took for granted. No matter the case, the souls needed forms in order to continue.
“They found it within the creatures of the planet. Just as humans sometime give birth to that which no longer lives, the animals have the same except the body lives but without the driving force behind it. Those empty shells were offered to the wandering souls to take shelter.
“The souls took the offer, and in doing so, changed the appearance of each beast they took residence in. The ancient ones are marked by their coloring, or more often lack of coloring. Very rarely are they seen by humans. It is said they only move into the realm of man if evil is already there.”
Heat and boneless fatigue pulled at Chandra, but she fought to listen to the end of the tale. The image of her friend made her jerk, and she found her voice.
“You mean...” her sentence was interrupted as Frostwhite squawked and landed in her lap.
“You were about to speak the great bird’s name?” The old woman spoke it like it was a question, but her face and smile said she did not require an answer. Chandra nodded before remembering the woman could not see her and mumbled an ascent.
“The name given by you to the Ancient One is for you alone. To speak the name around others is to give them permission to call on the Ancient One.”
Chandra nodded and then remembered herself and who she was nodding at.
“I understand. Are you saying I control him?"
The woman frowned at her and Chandra realized what the meaning of her question entailed.
"What I mean to say..." she started again but felt as much as saw the old woman's gaze narrow.
“It was foolish that I expected you to understand. You are spoiled and selfish and completely oblivious to anyone else’s feelings, child. Had an Ancient One not brought you to my cottage, I would ask you to now take your leave so I may rest. As it is, you may sleep on the floor near the hearth for tonight. Good night,” the woman said before shuffling away into the darkness.
Frostwhite looked at Chandra with a studied expression that seemed critical or sympathetic. He was linked to her thoughts enough that he knew she hadn't meant to make him sound like a possession. Chandra had not given thought to her choice of words before they had left her mouth, but she did now. Though, she had to admit, she had never much cared how she sounded to someone else.
Chandra raised her hazel eyes to the stark ones of her true friend and felt gratitude and embarrassment. The day the great bird had come into her room had been the beginning of a new life for her. She had to admit that so far it wasn’t quite what she might have hoped for. She had hope, though. She was her own person, and she had a friend.
She reached out her hand and gently stroked the soft feathers of Frostwhite’s head.
Chandra settled herself on the floor and tucked her bundled clothing under her head. She breathed in the wood smoke and felt the warmth of the hearth seep into her from beneath her as she drifted.
Though she ran, Chandra heard the chittering sound behind her. It only got louder no matter how fast she tried to run and she knew that if it caught up to her, it was all over. Her hand began to surge with pain that pumped through her palm like a new pulse. She screamed and found herself facing a tall mirror but as she looked, her pupils grew until the green of her eyes and then the white of her eyes was gone. As she watched, the eyes continued to grow until she realized that they weren't her eyes but eyes on the other side of the mirror just as the mirror cracked.
Chandra awoke to a sharp rap of wood to her head. She opened bleary eyes to look up at the old woman who stood over her dressed in a dusty gown, her white hair long and snarled, rapping her smartly with a wooden walking stick.
“Up! I will not have you lazing about. You need to earn your keep if you wish to stay in my house.”
Chandra grumbled and sat up. It took a few moments before what the woman had said were deciphered by her addled brain.
“Stay? I’m not staying,” she said softly. She had freed herself from one Master and was not in a hurry to find a new one in the form of this wizened angry woman.
“Is that so?” the woman said as she moved to make tea. Chandra frowned at her but paused in her reply to feel a bit of admiration for how efficiently the woman was able to work in her space despite her disadvantage.
“Look, I left...someplace," she rubbed at the top of her head, "and I need to strike out on my own.”
“You don’t exactly seem the outdoorsy, adventure type, child. You barely managed to stumble your way into my home. Nor do you carry any supplies with you.” The woman put several powdered herbs into the pot before lifting a bucket to pour water in. “Will you tell me where you came from?”
Chandra paused to think of a plausible lie, but the woman stopped her before she could speak.
“Do not bother to make a fool of yourself with some uncreative attempt at trickery.” The old woman stirred the pot. “It doesn't really matter to me. The only thing that matters is why you're here.”
“And you know why that is?” Chandra asked, heat in her voice and disbelief in the arch of her brows.
“I understand more than you know. Only those who need guidance can find their way to me, so you are here to learn.” She nodded her head in Chandra’s direction, and Chandra shook her head.
“I'm not some idiot.” Chandra tried to keep the ice in her voice from putting winter creeks to shame. She admitted that she needed to figure out where she was going and how to survive long enough to make it. As long as this wasn't some sort of ploy to keep her here until the woman could bring guards to take her away, she couldn't think of a reason to leave. The aches in her body were almost reason enough to stay.
"May I ask your name?" Chandra decided that this was the best situation she was going to get for the time being.
“You may,” the old woman said, her tone heavy with cheek.
Chandra could not hold back the derisive snort, and the old woman chuckled.
“You may call me Matta.”
“I'm not sure you'll find me to be a very good student,” Chandra whispered. “I have no skills to start from and have not done well by being taught in the past. You'll have your work cut out for you.”
The old woman laughed. “Granted, but that will change. You need to understand what you can achieve in order to fully embrace what your future holds,” the woman told her as she sidestepped Chandra and put a pot of water on to boil. She crossed the room quickly and hardly seemed to use the walking stick as she went about her business.
“What will you get out of this? My servitude?” Chandra heard Frostwhite shuffle and call to her from somewhere above her in the shadowed rafters of the tiny house.
“I don’t care! I didn’t run away to turn into someone’s servant!” she called to the bird. “I want to know what she wants from me!”
Matta waved her hand and motioned to the chair Chandra had sat in the previous evening.
“Okay.” the woman asked softly and handed her a cup of tea. Chandra stared at her for a moment before taking the tea. “You want to be free as you say, but to do what, where, and how?"
Chandra sat down and felt as though she folded in upon herself at her own fears being tossed back at her. As the warmth of the cup soaked into her skin, Matta’s words struck true inside her. Chandra had no idea where she needed to go. She was running without a destination. She lowered the cup and her hands to her lap and dropped her head.
"You found me for a reason. The empty cottage will be visible to passersby, but they will have no desire to enter nor would they find me unless I choose to reveal myself to someone. You were brought to me, and here you will stay,” the old woman concluded before standing to walk outside the cottage. Chandra thought she heard the woman mutter, for now as she left and she was left to sip tea and organize her thoughts.
18
A few days later, Chandra felt like a pack animal and didn’t doubt she would look the part were someone to happen by. Stacks of bundled branches and dry wood were strapped in a trembling tower to her back. Her feet had gone from tender to numb and now felt like swollen slabs of useless flesh. Her arms were burdened with a basket of blackberries, several tied handfuls of ivy and a large bundle of a bright, crimson flower. She had not had a problem with any of the items less the flower.
Matta had given her one dry flower and instructed Chandra to search the forest and bring back as much of it as she could find. She was unfamiliar with the bloom and had smelled the dried blossom. The smell was unlike that of any flower she had ever known. It was a dark, mossy smell like leaf decay or rotten food scraps. The oily putrescence of the bloom was cloying and clung to her nostrils as though she had rubbed the petals inside her nose. It was heady and managed to make the forest look cloudy despite the bright day. She had managed to find about six blooms that seemed unwilling to part with the brush. In the struggle, Chandra ripped several holes in her shirt and pants from brambles that lined the stems.
Chandra hoped it was the right plant because she couldn't imagine carrying another that smelled as bad. She pushed herself to move faster. She couldn't wait to reach the cottage so she could distance herself from the flowers as quickly as possible. She considered finding another flower to block her nose from the smell but knew she didn't want to pull that smell into her mouth, either. Once in the cottage, she planned to pull wood ash from the hearth to rub on her skin in the hopes that it would scrape off pollen or oils from the plant and then she could hobble into the creek. She considered burning her clothes but thought it might make the stink more prevalent.
Matta stood at the doorway of the cottage as Chandra approached. She had thought that the old woman's home would return to its decrepit and ruinous appearance, but it remained livable and too visible as far as she was concerned. What would happen if Matta was wrong and someone else found this place and Chandra? She shuddered.
“I thought that stink might be you coming back.” Matta laughed. "At least we know you found the right flower."
Chandra arched her eyebrow but said nothing and dropped her burden at Matta’s feet.
“Not here. Stack the wood near the door, wash the berries with some of the well water, refill the pitchers from the well and put the plants on the counter near the door.”
Chandra's response was a heavy sigh before she moved to comply. In the days she had been there, she had done nothing but work. She had done clumsy repairs to the inside as well as outside of the cottage, gathered plants and food as well as odd supplies. Matta had made her spend a day seeking out certain feathers from the birds in the forest. At first, Chandra had thought it would be a relatively easy day and then discovered that only certain feathers from a certain bird would do.
Frostwhite wouldn't help. He was mysteriously gone from morning until evening that day. She felt like he was annoyed with her because she had little patience for the grouchy old woman who gave them shelter.
“Be sure you don’t crush the blossoms of those flowers or you will never get the smell out of your clothing,” Matta called over her shoulder as she walked off into some trees near the cottage.
Chandra snorted as she looked down at the crimson stains on her tunic. She shook her head and moved to complete the tasks. When the forest dimmed with the approach of twilight and the crickets were singing their moon call, Chandra exited the little hut. She was covered in ash and soot she had taken from the fireplace, cleaning it in the process. The water would be a good place to wash everything away; clothing, smell, and aches. She took a threadbare cloth and a nub of soap as she exited the cottage. Matta had gone to work in her "garden" that looked more like weeds, a little ways behind the house. Chandra thought she might have time to wash up before Matta came back.
The icy water was a shock as it dragged across her body like a million blunt pins. She shivered the moment she set her foot in the water and hastened to rub at her body with the scrap of cloth and the bar of soap. Chandra thought for a moment of the giant tub that had been in Master Dreys’ estate and how she had been able to take a bathes with fine soaps and soft linens to wrap in after. The servants hadn’t always brought her very warm water, but it had never been as icy as the creek.