Chapter 18: 18. Alicia: Consequences Like a Knife

A couple days had passed since Alicia had seen Liam. Her mind still brought her back to those stony eyes of his though she usually recoiled from the thought and turned back to Stephen’s sunny smile. It was a terrible place to be stuck between as she missed Stephen so much.

The Order had been nice enough to add another room to the two prisoner’s chambers. Now the main room that acted as Farah’s prophecy almanac had two doors besides the iron entry. The poor woman had lamented every waking moment about having to shuffle the work that she’d done on that wall.

One led to Farah’s cozy living quarters and the other contained Alicia’s sparse room. In the maze of a building they were kept it proved easy to add more rooms to the already possibly infinite amount it held. Between the two bedrooms was a small kitchen no larger than a closet and an even smaller bathroom.

Already in two days Alicia felt so closed off from the outside world. Magic worked inside their prison but could not extend beyond it. No scrying, no messaging, she couldn’t even signal out the slit windows with some flames, they were there on their own.

On top of that while she still had the phone she had tucked into her bra it was as useful as a brick at this point. She’d kept it off but for one moment hoping to any god out there it had some signal. It was useless though, of course. No signal. It barely worked as a calculator with the magic of the place interrupting its function.

Alicia had thought a few times in her boredom that she could bust through the walls before frustratingly she remembered that breaking the wall didn’t mean she’d be out of this hell hole. There was no telling where their prison was actually held in space. The outside could just as much be an illusion as it could be the real thing.

Alicia wanted so badly to know what was happening with her family. Were they safe, did they manage to make it to Dinir? There was no news from the Order’s lackeys. In fact, no one had even come to question her since her last escape attempt. She hoped that they were worried more of them would end up in the hospital.

It was a lonely place. The people of the Order she loathed, and Farah for the most part kept to herself. After Alicia had been escorted back by Richter and she’d explained what had happened to Farah the old woman had said almost nothing. That continued as the days passed.

Alicia felt a little bad for not listening to her forewarning. Not because she’d hurt Ventus but deep down she knew her interference in the ritual had done something. Alicia was worried that the worst possible outcome might’ve happened. Shivers ran down her back as she remembered her tie to Stephen severing before her shadow had returned to her.

She found herself pacing the main room feeling like her fingertips were constantly on fire. Farah was doing her usual, instead beside one of the small arrow slits instead of the patch she’d been at before, humming away as she marked up the wall with indecipherable scrawling. With a huff Alicia stopped and watched the seer at work.

Farah didn’t draw on the stone with paint or anything. It seemed that, as Alicia observed closer, the melody she hummed was an enchantment of some sort which infused the wall with marks. Almost as if she was bringing the colours the stone had within itself to the surface. Alicia wondered if Farah had been a stoneworker in her youth before she’d been chosen as a seer.

“What is all this anyway?” She gestured at the entire room. “How is this all supposed to help?”

Farah’s tune petered out and with a final stroke she stepped back and scrutinized her day’s work. She took a moment to mutter a final word of power marked the stone.

“This?” She finally asked. “With all of my love, deary, I’m not sure I have enough time left in my life to explain it to you. This is my lifetime's work.”

“We apparently have at least some time. Try me.”

Farah sightlessly gaze at Alicia, scrutinizing her much the way she did her handiwork.

“It is the formula for the future. Just because I’m cut off from pulling more strands of what is yet to be, it doesn’t mean I don’t have my entire life of sight to draw from. There are many things I missed from not sifting through it, I have to spend time to parse it all—it is a puzzle to solve. The sight doesn’t always mean actually knowing the true outcome, you have to put work into knowing the paths the future can go.”

“Oh, I see.”

“No, you don’t.” Farah sighed. “You tried to run. I told you not to.”

“I know, Farah, I panicked,” Alicia countered, looking away with a frown. “It felt like Ventus was ripping me in two. I lost control.”

Farah gave Alicia a soft smile, a tiny offer of sympathy for her plight. “I never said this was going to be easy. In fact, not running is the hardest part. It hurts, but holding back was the way this was going to end with the least suffering.”

“What do you mean—suffering?” Alicia asked, her brows knitting in concern. “How did I change the outcome of the future?”

“The funny thing about prophecies, Alicia, they’re hardly ever right. It’s more of a guiding light, like a lighthouse on a cliff in rough seas. It’s a warning, a beacon, to tell you the possibilities.” Farah waved a gnarled hand above her and some of the scrawling across the room pulled off the wall like leaves peeling away from a wet window. “Knowing your fate doesn’t take away our ability to choose. It is a responsibility knowing the winding paths to choose carefully.”

The scrawling circled her head then dissolved mid air, fading to dust, and falling onto the floor. “Just like that, choose wrong and your possibilities are snuffed out. Lives are too. Now, I have to dig through old crusty memories to find a future I had ignored. It will be harder to guide the world to a better future.”

Alicia didn’t know what to do with the information. It was certainly ominous but cryptic enough that it just left her even more dumbfounded. Farah was clearly annoyed and worried as she explained it. The old woman was hiding information, that much Alicia was sure of. It was exactly what Farah had done before to stop Alicia from interfering in the future she was trying to bring to fruition. Alicia didn’t like it. Anger boiled up inside her, instinct telling her that Farah knew sacrifices had to be made to bring about the future she thought was best. Just like last time.

Before Alicia was able to confront Farah about it, their prison door made the unmistakable noise of unlocking. A screech of grinding metal sounded as the locking mechanism slid out of its place. Alicia froze half ready to lunge out of the way and half wanting to know who it was.

The door opened revealing a man standing there holding a cloth bag holding what seemed to be groceries. The light behind him made it hard to make out his face but Alicia could see that he was young, maybe only a couple years older than Natasha and tall, likely the same height as Richter—who was a mountain of a man, but this boy was lanky.

“Hi, nan,” he said sheepishly.

“Cyril, for goodness sake! You’ve taken your time to visit your poor nan.” Hearing the familiar voice Farah smiled through her chastisement, she crossed the room stopping a few feet from the doorway. “What are you waiting for? Come and give me a hug.”

“Sorry, I just…” Alicia could tell the young man was looking at her uncomfortably.

“Oh hush, boy. Alicia’s not a wild dog, she doesn’t bite.”

“Could’ve fooled me, you should’ve seen Ventus.” Cyril said, throwing the accusation at Alicia.

The tone made Alicia wince. So they were still in bad condition. It made sense the kid was hesitating.

“Why come over if you’re just going to stand there at the doorway?” Farah gestured to Cyril for him to cross the threshold and come over. “Come on, we can all have dinner together, you’ll see, Alicia’s a nice lady given the chance.”

‘Thanks, Farah’ Alicia thought to herself, grimacing.

After a moment's hesitation Cyril stiffly entered the room and the door shut behind him with a resounding thunk. The outside light snuffed out and they were left in the dimness of their prison.

“There you are, now come here, Cyria.” Farah made her way to him and wrapped her arms around the thin boy.

After one tight squeeze she let go. “Alicia, this is my silly grandson, Cyril, and Cyril, this is a friend of mine. She’s a bit of a wildfire but she’s trying her best. Nothing you wouldn’t do right?”

Cyril and Alicia both nodded towards each other, each still wary of the other.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Alicia finally replied with a quick, “much of a pleasure as it can be—given the circumstances.”

“There see?” Farah smiled at them both then turned and crossed the room to her door. “Now Cyril, you brought what I asked for, right?”

Cyril nodded and quickly rushed after his grandma saying, “Oh, right, yes. I did, dad already had it ready for you, soon as winter came.”

“For all he is, I can always count on your dad to remember as much as that.” Farah opened the door. “Come on Alicia, join me and Cyril for some sahlep.”

“Sahlep?” Alicia asked not recognizing the word.

“A drink, deary. It’s sweet and creamy,” Farah explained. “And most importantly for these cold frail bones, warm.”

It took Alicia by surprise to learn that Cyril had brought something as simple as ingredients to make a drink. She supposed after so many years in this hole that anything could be seen as a treat. Not that they weren’t given decent food but it was very bland. Veggies, like carrots and celery, broths, and basic meat like chicken or white fish appeared in the fridge every week but no spices besides the necessary. It was food, but not what Alicia wanted to eat every day for the rest of her life.

Alicia followed them into Farah’s side of their prison. Farah took the bag from her grandson and went into the kitchen to prepare some food and the sahlep. Cyril sat on the bed and Alicia pulled the one other wooden chair up to the fireplace which she lit with a single flick of her fingers. She noticed Cyril flinched as the fire roared to life.

With the added light she could see now just how much he looked like his grandma. He had warm brown skin with black, wavy hair that he kept at his shoulder. Alicia wondered if his eyes were the same as hers would’ve been or if he’d gotten his mother’s. They were heavily lidded, looking bored already, and almost black.

The last thing she’d noticed were the runescars that swirled around his arms, and peaked from under his collar. He was a bit young to have already gone through a binding ritual. Though she was impressed he managed to do so without completely losing his soul to whatever spirit he’d attached himself to.

“Shadestalker, if you’re wondering.” Cyril had noticed Alicia looking him over.

“I wasn’t,” the chair groaned as she sat, it was old and about ready to fall apart. Even so Alicia leaned back. “More I’m impressed that you’ve managed without losing yourself. Especially a shadestalker, I suppose you’re a novice hunter then?”

Cyril scoffed, “like I’d tell you.”

“Now, Now Cyril, I taught you better than that. Don’t be rude.” Farah walked in with a platter of glasses filled to the brim with the creamy drink she’d mixed up, smelling divinely of cinnamon, and a plate of assorted cookies.

“Let me do that nan,” Cyril shot up and took the platter from her, she let him and took a glass for herself as she settled into her ratty wingback. “See, he’s a nice boy.”

“Here.” He shoved the food at her, stretching out his arm to reach to keep his distance.

Alicia obliged and took her own cup and a couple cookies with jelly in the middle. As he got closer to her, she could see deep bruising on his arms, and the signs of a burn that’d been healed through magic.

“What happened to your arm there, kid?” She asked as Cyril sat back down on the bed.

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” He snapped back at her.

“No, but you certainly have to tell me.” Farah peered around the back of her chair, her lips pursing with concern. “You know I can’t see anything outside of this place. What happened.”

Cyril’s eyes flicked to Alicia and then back to his grandmother, trying to think of a way to say what he wanted to. “I got hurt on a hunt, is all. It’s not that bad and already mostly healed.”

“A hunt.” Farah didn’t ask, she stated with a deep sense of annoyance. “You’re not supposed to be out in the field yet, aren’t you still training with Mari?”

“I’m tired of being told I need more training, I’m ready.” Cyril whined, his eyebrows furrowing, it seemed like they’ve had this conversation before. “So I followed Ventus and Richter. I would’ve managed to finish the hunt too—but some guy blindsided me and shifted me out of there.”

It took a second for it to dawn on Alicia what Cyril was saying. He’d hunted her family, he’d followed the other two, and he’d attacked her family. Her knuckles went white as she clenched on her mug.

“How could you do something so stupid, Cyril?” Farah’s voice strained with fury. “I told you to stay away from all of this. You promised me to stay with Mari!”

If she stayed any longer Alicia would make poor choices. Getting to her feet, went to put her cup down on the mantle, slamming it harder than she’d meant to. The thick liquid sloshed around. She took a long breath, let it go, extinguishing the flames in her core that threatened to burn too hot.

“Excuse me,” She managed through her teeth.

Farah, feeling the intense energy flowing off of Alicia didn’t say anything but nodded understanding the situation. As Alicia exited through the kitchen she could hear Farah chastising her grandson, he tried arguing back but she quickly shut the teen down.

Sitting on her bed Alicia thought, and found that the cookies were still in her hand. She nibbled on one that had been crushed in her grip. Cyril had said someone had interjected. She wondered who she needed to thank for that. Several faces flicked through her mind, all people she’d left so long ago, and she couldn’t fathom how any of them would’ve known about her family—let alone that they were being hunted. Unless he was talking about Stephen. She thought of him heroically saving one of the kids from a Shadestalker with a smile. It was a fantasy though, she’d confirmed he was completely Inept, couldn’t even sense the supernatural around him. As much as she loved that man, it wasn’t something he was capable of. Who then?

Several minutes went by and there was a soft knock on her door.

Farah’s voice came through. “Cyril’s left, deary. I’m sorry, he’s still getting over the absurd teen hangups of not listening to his grandma.”

Alicia pulled herself from her thoughts. “It seems to be a running theme in your life—people not listening.”

Farah chuckled and opened the door. “I’m starting to think so as well. He did give a little more information to me if you would like to discuss?”

The old woman raised an eyebrow letting Alicia know there was something she’d want to know from what Cyril had to say. Farah stepped in without waiting to hear what Alicia had to say.

“He’s a very clever boy but is easily manipulated by those who play to his ambitions. I try to keep him on the straight and narrow but there’s only so much I can do from here.” Farah for the first time actually sounded sad at the endless sentence she’d been given to their stone hell, shut off from the world. “Cyril did give me a description of the person who shifted him out of the fight. Dark skinned, scruffy looking fellow, had two Bluehounds? Does he sound familiar to you?”

“Two Bluehounds? No, the only person with Bluehounds is my sis...”

Alicia stopped, something very deep in her memories clicked. All those many years Alicia had her suspicions, especially after Ventus had come out, but her sibling had never said anything to her. Two emotions welled up in her chest: pride for her sibling to become his true self; and sadness for missing out on his life, not being there when he likely needed her the most.

“My brother? How could he have known where they were?” She thought aloud. In the end it didn’t really matter. “If it’s him, he’ll make sure they're safe. There’s no way he wouldn’t.”

Farah nodded, something in her face told Alicia that was the variable Farah needed to really cut down the possible paths. The expression gave her hope more than anything.

“What does this mean?” She asked Farah.

“What it means is that there’s a chance but there are things at play that require old wounds to be closed. You need to have someone in the Order on your side, Alicia. I don’t have the answers for you, but you’re hurting and the best thing for you and your family is that you allow yourself to heal.”

Alicia was taken back by that statement. “I— huh, I wasn’t expecting that answer. Of course I’m hurting, I’ve been kidnapped and my family is in danger of falling into the hands of a power hungry organization that has no regard for their lives. I’m stuck here, with no way to help them.”

“You have allies if only you would accept their help.” Farah reiterated. “You aren’t alone here.”

Alicia stared at Farah. “It doesn’t feel like it. Especially because you seem to be hiding information again.”

“If I am, I do so only to make sure you don’t lose hope.” Farah shook her head and stepped up closer to Alicia. “If you need to know it to trust me, I can tell you, but you cannot give into despair because of it.”

“If you think this is a timeline where I die in the end, I’m alright with that.” Alicia looked to an arrow slit window that allowed for a dusty stream of light to filter through. “Just tell me.”

“There’s plenty of ways you can die. This isn’t about what’s going to happen, it’s about what has happened.” Placing a hand on Alicia’s knee and with the voice of a doctor telling a patient they had terminal cancer said, “Your husband is dead, killed protecting your children in the mountains.”

Alicia pushed up from the bed. It was a moment before what Farah had told her settled. “No. No, no, no. H-how could you know that?”

The usual heat that would rise, would overtake her, that instinct to rage suddenly snuffed out. She muttered under her breath over and over, ‘no, no, no’ as she paced the small room. Alicia froze a second later, right to the core, there was no denying it. As soon as her mind processed the statement she already knew exactly the moment it happened.

She sneered at her shadow, which stood on the wall in front of her looking back at her.

Farah stood silently waiting for Alicia to say anything but there was nothing to say. The moment Alicia had let her fear and rage take over her was the moment she failed her family. She hadn’t been strong enough to follow the path that Farah knew would prove to be better. This had been her fault.

“How much did you know of this?”

“I only know so much, Alicia, there are a thousand paths one can walk. I knew your brother, bless his soul, was going to meet them along the way. With Cyril’s interference, your brother was forced to deal with him—losing track of your family. It could’ve been him, or it could’ve been your husband. There were paths they could’ve all died.”

Farah let that sink in for a long moment. “What that means is we can still forge a path that suits us. We just have to play by their rules, be smart about it, only for the moment. Allow ourselves some time to heal.”

Silence passed between them again as Alicia lost herself to the grief.

“Give yourself some time, Alicia. The answer will come to you. I will continue my studies, memorize the turns to this maze.”

Alicia watched the light shift in the dust as Farah left the room, shutting the rickety door quietly. Her shadow moved slightly and with a flash of frustration Alicia punched the wall it was cast upon. She’d ended up posing the most danger to her family. Alicia let out a lamenting scream. The primal sound echoed in her ears.

It would be better if she just lay down and never got back up.

Better to give up.