The Promise of No Words

Chapter 3

There is a problem with the wards.

Thomir’s voice could be heard from the kitchen and every word held a sense of familiarity, but something else was there too. The sun was only just setting, leaving shadows that moved along the walls in a strange and disturbing way. They moved so slowly, as if time was frozen and a secret was about to be revealed.

The earthy aroma of dried herbs and roots filled the air as I sorted the bundles sitting beside the apothecary shelves. Every time I tied a knot, it felt comforting and helped me feel steady in an uncertain world. However, as I tried to wrap that stubborn valerian, my hand stopped, caught mid-wrap.

A change in the air became noticeable. There was a strange tension on my neck and I tried to hear clearly, hoping Thomir’s laugh would ease my worry. His voice, however, turned into something deeper, echoing through the quiet evening air. I dropped the valerian onto the table and felt my senses become more alert.

I was drawn to the door that led to the kitchen because I was curious. The room became filled with amber and dark shadows as the light faded, making me feel something deep inside. As I stood up, the floorboards creaked and their usual sound seemed threatening to me.

As soon as I entered, I saw Thomir standing by the stove, his face lit by the flaming gas. Yet, his focus was not the only thing that kept me hooked; it was the faint whispers that appeared at the edges of his speech and drifted off, just like smoke, into the room’s corners. 

I tried to call out for Thomir, but my voice was weak in the face of what was happening. As the sun set, I felt like I was being watched and waited on, just like I was.

“Wrong how?”

“Come and see for yourself.”

He stood by the door, holding the lantern up. I walked across the room and the creaking of my prosthetic could be heard with each step. I could smell sulphur and wet stone in the air outside.

The signs on the door were in flames. It was not fire, but a dim glow, as if coals were hidden under ash. But they beat with a rhythm like veins.

I told him, “That’s not keeping you safe.” “That’s reacting.”

“Yeah. I have witnessed this in the past. Once. Long ago. Long before your parents—

He didn’t say anything else. My stomach felt uncomfortable.

A far-off horn interrupted the quiet. Not Windmere’s. Lower. Hollow. I heard it only once. Then nothing.

No birds. No crickets. Just the wind moving through the wheat, as quiet as silk on a blade.

Then—screaming.

The storey began just outside of town.

I didn’t need to be told what to do. I pulled down the back shelves and found a space hidden behind the wall. He and I had prepared it months in advance, just to be ready. A natural instinct.

I turned. “Make sure you get the fire-ward salve.”

He was already starting to move. “We cannot defeat them.”

“No. We can live on, too.

The sound of pounding doors could be heard all over the street. Someone shouted. A window was broken. I fastened the front of the house.

Thomir brought a pouch of salves and a short carving knife.

He whispered, “They are not stealing goods.” “They are kidnapping people.”

“Why?”

“Does it really matter?”

There was a trembling at the front door.

“Back tunnel. Now.”

We ran behind the wall of herbs. Thomir hesitated—just for a moment—looking back at the room he'd tended like a child for years. I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the lever that was behind the stacked vials.

The root tunnel made a loud noise as it opened. A place of damp soil, cool and narrow. I moved out of harm’s way first.

We didn’t travel very far.

We heard a loud crash as we ran. Floorboards. The enemy had managed to break through the front.

I looked back, grabbed Thomir’s sleeve and then stopped.

A person was standing in the doorway, backlit by the fire. No torch. No blade.

Just an ordinary man. Or maybe a man-like shape. Wrapped in dark garments, the face hidden, eyes as dark as burning embers.

He didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t necessary.

In my thoughts, the words appeared like decay: Come. Bind. Obey.

However, they didn’t stay.

No pull. No sting. No blood-rush.

Just… air.

I looked at him. He looked back at her.

His brow moved slightly. Confusion.

Then fear.

He hissed a sound at me that I couldn’t make out.

I pulled Thomir down along with me.

We ran as fast as we could through the tunnel. Some of the dirt ended up in my hair and on my collar. Because Thomir was so heavy, I had to help him walk by dragging him when he started to feel tired.

We made it to the exit which was located behind the well on the northern side of the village. Smoke covered half the sky.

The flames reached the edges of the roofs. The wind was filled with screams. However, not a lot of them. Most were silenced in a very short time.

I kept Thomir standing with my strong arm, my heart feeling tight in my throat.

He was in pain and was groaning. Half-conscious.

I couldn’t see where the next attacker was—only felt the change in the air around me.

I ducked. Spun. I pushed Thomir back behind me.

This time, the person was a woman. Same wrappings. The same black eyes.

She brought her hand up. A few silver words appeared on her skin, almost like tattoos. I wasn’t sure.

She pointed. She opened her mouth.

It felt as if a hot wind had hit me when the spell was cast.

However, I still did not get any results.

She lost her balance and stepped back. Her hand trembled. She spoke in a way I didn’t understand and stepped back as if I was the one burning.

I didn’t hesitate to learn. I picked up Thomir and fled.

I felt a burning pain in my lungs. The smoke was getting thicker as time passed. A roof fell down somewhere.

We were at the very end of the wheat fields. A corpse was found in the grass. I knew Vern’s youngest son. His eyes were not closed. I turned my head.

I didn't know where I was running anymore. Only away. The ground was pulling me down. The sound my prosthetic made was too forceful. Thomir groaned again, only expressing how much it hurt.

At the old irrigation ditch, I lowered him into the gulley and sat down next to him.

I listened.

Nothing followed.

Not yet.

I could hear the village behind us making noises. The flames reached up to the sky.

I slumped back, my nails full of dirt, my body shaking from a place deeper than my bones.

What was going on?

Why was I not allowed to be touched?

Why was there another fire?

I shut my eyes.

I prayed for the first time in years and my prayer was not about my own salvation.

Just to remain unnoticed.