The Hunt for Lilia 5 - Arailt POV

"SHE WILL RISE AGAIN!"

The large thuds on the door echoed like a hammer hitting an anvil.

Anasa was terrified, forcing us to hide, yet no one listened to her.

No, these kids were ready to fight. Beanne and Erop. From what I gathered, neither of them possessed supernatural abilities, although Beanne's nature as a Witch suggested she could do...something.

But if she had some powerful magic at her sleeve, she was sure taking her time to unleash it.

She wasn't doing anything at all, merely standing upright with her fists closed like she was the party's tank.

Beanne, you idiot, you are not going to win this.

Anasa was furious, and so she tried to drag me to the box. Perhaps she wanted me to survive. Her desperate plea was...moving. Until this moment, I had been under the impression that she hated me, yet now she seemed to have a profound desire to save me. To push me into the box. That's what she set her mind upon. 

Yet I was too heavy for her to be lifted from my seat.

"Mother, stop." 

I have told her in a tone that finally reached her mind.

The thuds were over; the mill was covered in silence, only occasionally interrupted by scratches. It was almost as if a little squirrel was running around inside the walls, or mice were present.

Dozens of them, all at once.

The wind. It was the melusine of the wind. 

That's when I realized this opponent is strong, stronger than anything I've seen in this world yet.

And I have missed the strong players like Rumabelle or Xert dearly.

We were alone and weak. If we were on a chessboard, we would be four pawns against a queen. Our opponent was strong. It was evident that he, or she, could kill us at any moment. The front doors were not able to stop him, yet this room...

He hesitated to enter it. After all, what's really stopping him from kicking the door down and killing us?

Perhaps he is afraid?

No.

It was the enchantment on the ground, a timid, corrupted remnant of Canalyse's power.

A triangle on the door, on the walls, on the floor, on the ceiling.

This was my room. And her warming touch was extending even from the grave.

She truly must have loved me dearly, as if I were her own son.

And now she was dead. They took her from me. It was something I could never forget.

But I couldn't die here. Not yet. Not now.

Will he break through? Does he want us, or is he after something else?

"Erop, take the fake fragment," My voice suddenly escalated to that of a king. Erop was surprised, but shrugged and decided to obey. Of course, he would. I have already established myself as his ally.

"It's in the drawer, just near my bed."

When he took it inside his chubby hand, it was glowing. He looked at it intently. Even a fake held such esteemed, high value for him.

My sister and I knew it was merely a worthless piece of glass, at least to us. It may have had some power, but we didn't know how to use it.

"What should I do?" he asked hesitantly.

"Wait, you still have this? This is dangerous! Give that to me, Erop!"

Mother could not be such an obstacle.

The bitter irony of the situation is too obvious. 

"No, I won't, pretty lady! Arailt entrusted it to me!" he said with surprising defiance. It was not loyalty to me, as it was the desire to own the fragment.

Of course, he was jealous of Xert this entire time.

"Maybe that is what he wants! If I knew this was here, I would have kicked it out immediately!"

I frowned. This woman...She was really making my blood boil.

"Mother, please. It has been here for years. And besides...listen..."

The scratching stopped. It was above us, in the attic. That was his target all along.

I immediately realized.

The box that Elias's father sent him. The one that the two knights brought.

That's what he was after.

"Mother, what is in the box? Where is Father anyway? He isn't milling...You said he is going to work for the Mayor for the time being."

I asked quickly, making her blink multiple times as if she was making sure she heard that right.

"Well...I don't know...You know how sensitive he is about it...The Mayor has been good to us; he lent us money. I think he is being employed as a gravedigger now... no one wants to do that...he didn't really want to tell you."

A gravedigger?

"Beanne, that would mean he is working under Father Savas, is that correct?"

Beanne didn't respond.

Why doesn't she respond? She kept standing still, gazing at the door.

"Beanne...?" I repeated myself, but she didn't answer. Instead, she came closer to the walls, examining the beaming yellow triangles on them.

"What...what is this?"

She can see that?

"That's a protective barrier."

She turned to me as if I had said the worst curse word in history.

Wait, how do I KNOW that?

That's what her face was asking, too.

Then she rushed to me, grabbing me by my face.

"You! There is something wrong with you! You are touched by the Witch! What did she do to you? You can read, you know things you shouldn't know! What is wrong with you? Your soul is rotten!"

I couldn't stop her. Erop was too confused, or maybe he hesitated. She pushed me down from the chair onto the floor.

And then she struck me.

Truly, this world has decided to punish me.

Why does everyone in it hate me?

Yet it was surprisingly Anasa's hand that caught her and stopped Beanne from hurting me further.

Surprisingly, even though she hit me, I felt nothing at all.

Was I numb to all of the pain? Or was it something else?

Instead, her hand was swollen as if she had just hit a wall at full speed.

"What...How are you so..."

She was crying, and my mother moved her away.

"Stop. He isn't touched by the Witch. Or, to be exact...He is, but it doesn't matter. I, for one, should know whether that matters or not."

My eyes looked down as I lay lifelessly on the floor.

He is behind that door, you know...I can feel it...feel it in the creaks...

"Erop, he will break that door. He will also try to kill us."

I suddenly said, darting my eyes around the room. As I always have. Just like when I was a baby.

It's funny, I know how many cracks the ceiling has.

When I called to him, he jumped to his feet and straightened his bow.

"Here is what you will do. You will put that fragment on the tip of your arrow, and blast him in the face when he enters."

Lady Rumabelle said that everything Xert makes can become a bomb with a ten percent chance...This is a fake fragment that is supposedly loaded with his energy...It's worth a try.

"Wait...won't that kill us?" 

Erop asked hesitantly.

"No, we will be protected by the barrier...I think..."

That doesn't sound very confident.

"You THINK?" Beanne screamed, snatching from Anasa's arms. She rushed to the ground, mere centimeters away from me.

"This pathetic excuse for a barrier wouldn't protect a child from a fever!"

To my surprise, she started dashing out triangles with her fingers.

Did she understand how to do it just by seeing it? She had seemed puzzled by it before.

"If I didn't know any better, I would expect you drew this."

I suppose Canalyse was the weakest Witch after all.

"Erop, he is coming!"

The door was covered with fungi, which spread across the floodboards, gnawing at the edges of the circle. His power was cold; the room froze in its wake. Just who was this person? What was the source of his power? Was it Witchcraft, or a Fragment?

"Beanne, what is he using? What is it? Is it the Witches' Magic?" 

I shouted, but before I could get my answer, the door snapped open with dozens of shadowy, ghastly hands entering the room like dark lines. Two giant red eyes looked at us from behind the door, almost hiding inside the pure darkness of the living room.

"That's...That's not him...Thank goodness..."

Anasa was...relieved by the presence of a creepy monster?

Until Erop loosened his grip and sent the arrow with the fragment straight at it.

The purple light emitted as it crossed the reaching shadowy hands, which snatched at us, trying to strangle our necks.

And then, there was fire, engulfing us all.