His Own - Chapter 11：Remember

Warning: Blood

Rosalind took in a deep breath and closed her eyes, clutching the bag in her left hand.

In a few seconds she felt something wash over her. It was warm and safe, her body almost instantly relaxed. Her clothes fluttered and her hair came loose, almost sweeping the ground. It showed streaks of silver slowly turning gold.

With a big gust of wind, she felt lightweight; almost suspended in the air. When everything settled, she opened her eyes. She was surrounded by swirls of colours fading in and out. Her dress and hair moved like they were underwater.

She could see the silver streaks in her hair as they turned gold. Seeing it filled her with a tinge of excitement.

“So close. I’m so close.”

Rosalind came from a long line of, for lack of a better word, priestesses. They were used by the spiritual beings as mediums to converse with the living and the gate to the world’s knowledge is open to them. Her grandmother, until now, is still visited by people from far and wide, seeking help. Her mother, however, died before anything happened.

Silver streaks appear in the child’s hair two months after they were born. Once the silver streaks appear, they have to make sure to never cut their hair as it can sever the connection. It was a blessing bestowed on her family as a gift.

There were two conditions to this blessing: they were to never cut their hair or take any intoxicating drinks. No one know what would happen if they broke those conditions but it’s never been broken since the time of her great great great grandmother.

When the woman is ready, the silver streaks will start turning gold. When it turns fully gold, the spiritual world and the physical world will merge with them. They will be filled with knowledge beyond comprehension but with some limits.

The silver streaks MUST turn gold on its own.

Rosalind shivered. She does not have a clue of what would happen when she attempts to force open the knowledge.

“But it’s for a good reason. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Are you alright, Rosalind?

Adriel’s voice resounded all around her, offering comfort.

“Yes. I am.”

Do you really want to do this? Your hair is already turning gold, maybe you can wait just a little longer.

“I can’t, Adriel. Grandma’s hair turned gold completely when she turned sixty. I don’t have that kind of time.”

Tampering with things related to the spiritual realm doesn’t always end well.

“I’m sure they’ll understand, Adriel. I just can’t keep standing by and watching.” She softened her voice. “And, you were right. If I , that is . . . if you weren’t there that night, if I hadn’t made the deal, that boy would have died.”

She crouched down, burying her head in her hands. The weight on her felt heavier than ever. Her body trembled as she held back a sob.

“I hate feeling so useless.”

Silence surrounded the space she was in, a warm and comforting silence. She sat there, listening to her own heartbeat and heavy breathing.

Finally looking up, she looked at her hair floating around her. The gold slowly consuming the silver, almost like fire consuming a matchstick.

Before she knew it, her eyes felt heavy as she became drowsy. Staying up the entire night filled with anxiety and worry did not help her now.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to stay awake but a soft humming in the distance slowly pulled her off to sleep.

Don’t worry, as long as you’re here, your safe.

———————————

Rosalind woke up with a jolt. She felt an immense amount of pressure suddenly dropped on her, snatching the air out of her lungs.

She gasped and struggled but couldn’t seem to move. When she opened her eyes only darkness greeted her.

” a d r-” She gasped out, unable to even call out to it. With every letter that came out, she felt extremely painful all over her body. Her lungs seemed to have decreased in size, she could not breath in as much air as she needed.

The enormous feeling of dread and loneliness consumed her. She couldn’t move and the pressure on her, restricted her airflow.

What have you done?

The voice surrounded her. It was not Adriel’s, but someone or something . . . sinister.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

Unable to reply, Rosalind kept still. The lack of oxygen is making her head swim. She could hardly distinguish anything.

The pressure grew and with it, her fears. The voice continued to shout and scream but she could not make out what it was saying.

She felt liquid rise to her throat. When she spat it out, it tasted like iron. The same taste of the liquid ran into her mouth from her face, where it came from she didn’t know. She could feel warm liquid flowing out of her eyes, dripping down her chin.

“Is this . . . where I die?”

The voice that was screaming became quiet. She stopped trying to struggle. Everything around her spun. Taking in a deep, painful breath, she shouted, “Adriel!” as loud as her horsh throat would allow her.

Liquid poured out her open mouth, almost like vomit. Unable to even cough or struggle, she laid there. Her body convulsing as she choked on her own blood.

It would be another torturous hour before she finally lost consciousness.

When she opened her eyes, the night sky full of twinkling stars greeted her. Rosalind’s bloodied cloths, her cut lips and her ragged breathing was a sight to see.

Slowly seating herself up, she reached for her bag. It was still beside her. Taking out a scissor, she cut open her clothes, peeling them off her skin.

With a bottle of water from the bag she gave herself a small wash, making a piece her dress wet and cleaning up her body with it. Wiping away the blood as much as she could.

As she wiped herself, Rosalind looked around her. Nothing can be seen for miles except dry land and a few dried trees.

She carefully stood up and trudged to a dried tree, throwing her things beside its roots, poking out of the ground. She took out bandages and wrapped them around her waist, gasping in pain when she accidentally tied it too tight.

She then took out another dress and a pair of gloves from the bag and wore it. Ignoring the pain that shot across her body every time she moved. Securing the dress, she slumped onto the tree’s trunk and laid her head back.

Her damp dress, now cut to pieces, lay beside her.

“Hi.” She said, touching the tree, coughing a little. She took out another bottle of water and drank it. “What kind of tree are you? I can’t really make out without your leaves.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t do much for you but here.” She poured some water from her bottle into the roots of the tree. Tears mixed with the water and blurred her vision as she desperately tried to wipe them away.

“I . . .” She swallowed a hiccup. “I hope this is enough to cover for spending one night here. Ok? I . . . I’m also great company, I heard.”

Rosalind force a smile on her lips and patted it.

“Thank you.”

“The stars are pretty tonight, don’t you think ? I wonder how grandma and grandpa are. At least they’re safe.”

“Oh! Did you see that?” She stood up too quickly, the pain made her fall back down.

“Ouch.” She gasped out and then laughed.

Turning to the tree she said, “Sorry. I just saw a shooting star. Got a little too excited.”

She leaned back on the tree trunk, gripping her sides. She winced in pain every time she moved. Her hair covered the base of the tree like its roots.

Finally finding a comfortable position, she stared back at the sky, sleep slowly covering her.

“At least . . . the sky’s beautiful tonight.” She smiled a soft smile.

“Good night, tree.” And with a whisper to the skys, said, “Good night, Titus. I don’t regret anything.”