Burial of hearts the black widow's malice (3 page)

I walked unhurried, noting the
small creatures as I passed by; one in particular caught my attention; my
education did not warrant me to know the name, purple shaded, rounded and with
eyes so great in number I could not begin to guess. As this creature moved,
trails of what seemed familiarly like dust catapulted from behind. I continued,
etching my way closer and yet perhaps further away with each step; how could it
be that I would find a place I did not know how to find, or even where to
begin.

The trees surrounding me, I began
to feel somehow more comforted, as though blanketed, but at the same time a
sinister feeling lurked predominantly in my mind; the fury of unknown worlds
could come and strike against me, the source of all nightmares could unravel
twisted games; nonsense I suppose, yet what if it were so, the thoughts my
parents guarded me from, thwarted in disregard, perhaps did somehow have a
place in reality.

Falling deeper into my thoughts,
I sat within a hollowed out trunk, it looked as though soulless, but life grew
throughout; ivy crept through the cracks that had formed, rising up, attempting
to regain what once was.  I leant my head aback, resting for a moment. One
by one the sombering thoughts that led my mind astray casually vanished,
replaced by the love I felt cocooned in the arms of Alexander. Numerous times
had we gone on adventures to places we had never seen before and just like the
journey today, we would always find a way to return
somehow.

My legs began to ache from the
jagged ground I was sitting upon; branches laden beneath me giving discomfort
in almost every position. Choosing to arise I continued to walk aimlessly. The
forest floor seemingly sloping down as I walked; a descent almost unnoticeable
to the untrained wanderer. How I miss Doris, I thought to myself; it has only
been a short while, but already I need some guidance to help me, a scrap of
knowledge to feed upon.

A
strong
gust swept in
from behind me, taking me by surprise and then as if meant to shock, the sound
of thunder erupted skywards; the clouds darkening effortlessly, as though given
authority to trample any light that stood in the way. A flash of lightning
ripped through the sky, giving a glorious display unto the Gods for which it
was created; droplets began to fall, landing upon me in somewhat irritating
ways.

Without warning, the rains swept
among the trees, their power ignited into a fully-fledged storm; I needed to
find somewhere to shelter. Raising my pace I noted all of my surrounding areas;
a rock ledge I saw could provide cover, but I would have to compromise on my
feet becoming laden with water, from the stream that flowed beneath.

After hours had passed, I slowed
my pace; I had almost given up hope of finding a suitable shelter, now I was
just hopelessly wandering among the trees. Coming across a large opening in the
forest, I saw a small pool of crystal-like water that sparkled as the rains
gave into the unity it was destined for. The sky as dark as it may be, had no
place here, as the sun
boldly
ripped through. A tranquil feeling
entombed me as I saw a wonderous waterfall, it glinted colours drawn in from
paradise, some of which I had not had the opportunity to fully glimpse, as they
were taken away as soon as I saw their beauty.

I could see a hollow in the rock,
aback of where the water flowed down. Carefully moving along the bank of the
pool, I managed to slip behind the water; there was but just a fraction of
leeway to gain entry, without becoming somewhat wet.

The cave was sufficiently sized
for one person, any more and unwelcome compromises may
of
had to be suggested. The roof of the cave was jagged, but not sharp to the
touch; the floor smooth, most likely caused by the waters, rising through the
passage of the seasons.

Placing my items at the back of
the cave, my eyes passed across every rock face, seeking out any formidable
creature(s) that may be lurking, my hand ready and armed to give the deadly
blow; thankfully I found none on this occasion. Warmth was what I really
required now and as the sun was soon to set, light would not go a miss.

Above me I could make out roots
from the trees creeping through cracks, perfect for starting a fire I thought.
Reaching back to my sack I took out my silver dagger and cut off all the roots
that I could see through the limited light; some of which created more of a challenge
than others. I carefully mounded the roots that I had gathered close to the
entrance of the cave. I had no oil, or flint to start a fire, so I would have
to use my knowledge of magick to help.

Magick though, was not one of my
strongest points, but one incantation I knew of was ‘Anzeo Faborlay’.

My hands raised, I began to
visualise the flames shooting from within, engulfing the roots; I saw the
flames glowing brighter as my will for this dreamed reality to become as fact
grew. My hands beginning to warm I could feel my effort would be without
failure. My eyes began  to dance wildly, as my connection grew stronger;
feeling as though I had become the vision, my whole existence placed itself
within the roots, taking a journey, diving and weaving throughout, every sense
in my body erupting and with a final push I gave my purest desire. With the
opening of my eyes the world around me momentarily seemed like a visual
dilemma, blurred out of perspective. The flames had erupted before me and I
could feel the burst of warmth circling me and protecting me.

Sneaking a peek at the fire as
though a child playing, I was elated to know I was able, still at this moment
in time to do all be it, a small work of magick; this act was inseparable from
the journey I was to undertake, for who knew what I was to come against, what
person(s) or creature(s) that may heed my passage to Alexander.

Being quite the joker I was, I
opened my sack and took out a small handful of pumpkin seeds, throwing them
onto the flames with a smile upon my face; the popping and crackling of the
seeds brought to me a mild amusement, as was the same when I was younger; Doris
and I used to scare the baker’s mistress, adding a bag or so of the seeds to
the coals that were lit, then watching satisfied at her sudden departure,
thinking the wife was soon to return.

Now warmth was pouring out around
me, I could get some much needed rest. I placed a thick woven sheet beneath me,
just to add a mediocre amount of comfort, it was a novelty really, a stone bed,
I guess tortures have been more outlandish in the times of old. Spreading
myself out, avoiding the cold floor on my bare skin, I cupped my head into my
arm, closing my eyes and slowly my mind drifted away to blankness, until sleep
was upon me.

The dream began as every other, a
misled carousel of unrelated imagery, but then I was given a sense of
stability; I could see myself as though a third person, every action I chose,
while being well aware I was asleep.

It was a wonderous looking lake;
boats were coupled together as if married; in the distance, upon a faraway
shore, I saw an opening in the hillside, where water streamed freely. The
leaves on the trees crisp and the colours vibrant, perhaps the sun had darkened
patches of them as there was much contrast in their tones, which merely added
to the beauty. Down to my right I could see a stone path, the borders were
lined devoid of mistake, with white roses forming a barrier of a kind; as I
know quite well, the thorns of roses do enjoy slicing un-regretfully at skin.

My eyes following the path down,
a small church had been built at the end, the stonework as if newly finished,
the sparkles on the water reflecting light upon the windows, which gave
breath-taking light displays.

Next to the
church was a group of children leisurely sword fighting with lengthy branches,
laughter and the occasional playful scream came from them as they joked. This
place was rather desirable, no lewdness as I often found back home.

I walked towards a group of cottages,
white smoke passed through the chimney pots, rising to the clouds above. I
thought myself to be next to the cottages and before a whisper could become a
word, I was there. The smell of a freshly baked pie enthralled me, to the point
of where saliva began to seep out of my mouth; but no one seeming to be around,
I decided to look through the front window of a graceful little cottage. It was
smaller than the others, but it was maintained to a standard that seemed all be
it obsessive. I opened the entrance door, then shrieked as it produced a
high-pitched sound from the not so new hinges. The door itself was made of
solid oak, almost half a foot thick, with engravings of various common
creatures arched close to the rim, the handle cast-iron and a small peephole
centred atop.

I could see the pie I craved a
few feet away, on a strong and rounded stone table, the top of which was plain
in design, but the feet given a similar look to that of the claws of a bird;
perhaps this cottage was reserved for that of a hunter, or even a mason.
Leaning over the pie I inhaled with delight at the smells of freshly cooked
pheasant and without care cut myself a
small
slice, devouring it in a
very none lady like manner. Crumbs began to pile up as I ate, the tastes of
pheasant and rosemary infusing me; the pastry perfectly cooked, as if baked by
the hands of a genius; light and fluffy teasing my taste buds and the pheasant
tender to the touch, giving the perfect combination.

A large jug of freshly made rose
water sat hidden in the shade, as if not to spoil; pouring a glass, or perhaps
two if I may, I washed away any unforgiving morsels of food that had decided to
become entombed between my teeth.

It was at that moment a strange
noise began to be cast towards me, it was faint at first, the sound of drums
being used,
gaining
speed with every moment that
passed. I walked outside, pondering where this sound was coming from. Behind
the trees was a huge wall, which reached as far as I could see. The sounds got
louder, as I stood there staring; with the beating of the loudest drum, my
dream became broken and my eyes opened and I realised it was all but a fantasy.

CHAPTER 3

Awoken, I quickly rose; it was
still dark, the time I did not know, but the rains had ceased at least for now.
I could still hear the drumming, now even more clearly.

Collecting my items I left the
cave, again carefully avoiding the water as it fell; standing firm upon the
ground, I attempted to place a direction on the drumming, turning my head,
listening for a droplet of a clue.

Beginning to find a suitable
route to follow, I climbed upon the rock faces, aside to the water’s edge,
grasping tight upon soggy branches, my hands slipping on occasion as I made my
way atop. As I rose up, I saw a small pool, only a few metres wide, fish swam
within, keeping a safe distance from the torrents of water close by; their
scales were coloured distinctly with variations of red tones, almost the same
as my finest evening gown.

Walking by the side of the river,
I often lowered myself to avoid becoming tangled between ferocious weeds and on
the odd occasion small creatures crossed my path, just evading becoming
trampled upon as they did so.

The trees were adorned fruitfully
with flowers of many sizes and colours, their fragrance at times overpowering,
leading myself to become somewhat light headed, but as always I managed to
maintain a certain decorum about myself, even if it was fraudulent; for it may
be a single moment before and dare I say it, a noble person appears in this
unforgiving place; but I suppose, none would venture to a distant world such as
this, not without the very best delicacies delicately caressing upon their
greedy, self-indulgent lips.

The walk was short and steady as
I came closer to the drumming; now I began to hear the sounds of people
singing, although the words were not clear to me as yet. Moving closer I hid
myself behind a well-positioned selection of shrubbery, folding back a few of
the leaves, I looked and listened to the group of people below; they sang a
song, cheerful and endearing to my ears: