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SERAPHINE

Few things tested the limits of my smile like the scream of a usually stoic sentry.

“Please,” he sobbed, his hand tightening on my sleeve.

 “This will only take a moment,” I assured him, prodding the injury with practiced fingers.

The sentry moaned, sinking back onto the cot and cradling his arm against his chest. “Will you need to amputate it?” 

They had such wild imaginations sometimes. I exchanged a glance with Iris who tended to a steward’s burn in the cot next to me. She bit down on her quivering lip, turning away.

I cleared my throat. “You’re in luck. Sprained wrists can be healed with rest and managing the swelling.”

His lips parted. “A sprain? But I’m in agony. Are you certain you don’t need to take a closer look?”

“We all have a different tolerance to pain. I’ve patched up many sentries over the years, and I’m confident in my diagnosis.” I patted his good arm sympathetically. “You’ll need to be excused from your duties for a week. After that, come back to see me and I’ll decide whether to clear you to return.”

“You’re letting me go? Don’t you need to monitor me just in case?”

I smiled sweetly at him. The cot he occupied was needed but every patient had to feel that their condition was taken seriously. It wouldn’t do to receive a complaint and sully the reputation I’d painstakingly built, especially when it was a sentry, the biggest sources of gossip amongst the Night Ravens. It was all that standing around guarding things. Idle bodies led to running mouths.

I placated him with a tonic, instructing him to take a spoonful every evening to aid his recovery. That would prevent the need for him to stay overnight, I told him. That it was merely undiluted berry juice, thick and tart, mattered little. It was the action that eased worry, the knowledge that something remained within their control.

Fae couldn’t lie. It was an ancient rule enforced by the five gods who birthed Idrix with their magic to keep our souls true. Any attempt would cause us to choke on the words, if we could form them at all. But we could deceive, allow others to fill gaps in their own mind and twist meanings for our own benefit. Taking the tonic would mean he could leave. That was the truth, so the words spilled from my lips as easy as water flowing through a stream.

The sentry nearly collided with the next shift of healers on his way out, cradling his injury with a scowl. Nia and Vincent paid him no mind, hurrying to change into a clean set of robes.

“Anything we should be aware of?” Nia asked, scanning the scroll I passed over with our patient notes. I recorded everything meticulously, but the older woman always asked, just in case.

“Just the usual battle scars,” I replied, matter of fact. “Nothing should trouble you.”

Iris joined me to disrobe. “I hope dinner’s edible tonight.”

The thought was enough to cause my smile to drop. “Considering the best cook spent the afternoon with you, I highly doubt it.”

I missed the days of being able to travel to the capital’s market and taste whatever I was in the mood for. Flaked pastries filled with a spicy jam that made your lips tingle. Meat that fell off the bone, marinated in herbs so fresh they must have had an Earth-Blessed fae growing them with their elemental magic. Treats that I technically wasn’t allowed, but my father would turn a blind eye to, under the promise that mother would never find out.

Now I was trapped in this derelict castle with nowhere else to go, ensuring I remained indispensable so at least my mother would have somewhere safe to stay. Nearly twenty years had passed, but the drafty hallways felt as unwelcoming now strolling through them with Iris, as they had the day I arrived.

 “Thank you for today,” Iris said, fidgeting with her sleeves. “I’m sorry for causing you more work.”

I patted her shoulder. “There’s no need to thank me. I’m glad to help.”

It wasn’t Iris’ fault her script was practically illegible. She excelled at practical healing, doing her best work under pressure. But the scholarly element was another story. She’d scraped through her final test thanks to my tutelage, but I was in no hurry to lose any friends.

And I’d had an advantage. My governess had struck my hand every time my writing displeased her, only hard enough to sting. The habit had never left me, a wave of panic coursing through me if each word failed to be perfectly aligned.

“Lumpy porridge for dinner?” Iris made a gagging sound as we approached the serving hatch. Already a queue had formed against the wall of the dining hall. “Once a day is bad enough.”

“There must be a delay in the supplies coming in.” The market’s exciting flavours had never felt so far away. But a hot meal, no matter how unappetising, would help combat the chill that infested the Old Keep. The castle’s origin remained a mystery, but it was left so damaged it had been abandoned until the Night Ravens formed and claimed it for their home. Stewards were tasked with making it fit for habitation, but with few Blessings at their disposal it was cumbersome work and progress was slow. Only a chosen few were bestowed with the ability to wield elemental magic by the gods, and sadly, even fewer were members of the Night Ravens.

I thanked Belinda with a kind smile as she poured a strict ladleful of porridge into my chipped bowl. It wasn’t her fault. The stewards worked with what was available. At least we had a roof over our heads and the protection of the wards. There were worse situations to be in.

Iris was quiet when I joined her at a long table, distracted by something behind me. I turned to check what it was and let out a groan.

Theodore Holt lounged on the bench like it was a throne. Surrounding him on all sides, a group of men and women hung onto his every word. His raven hair fell to his shoulders, kissing the pommel of his sword where it was strapped to his shoulder, and though he wore the simple woven uniform of the sentries, on him it fit like fine armour, teasing the sculpted form beneath.

I rolled my eyes, returning to my porridge.

“You may be immune to his charm, but you have to admit he’s easy on the eyes.” Iris watched him dreamily. 

I snapped my fingers in front of her face. “Don’t you dare fall for it. He may look the part, but he’s no heroic guardian. He’s a beast. You’re best off staying as far away from him as you can.”

“Fine, fine,” Iris said with a sigh. “I’ll just look from afar. I don’t know why you dislike him so much. He’s always been perfectly nice to me.”

“Well, appearances can be deceiving,” I warned. I wanted him as far away from my best friend as possible.

Just then, a commotion at the doorway made me forget all mention of the loathsome sentry. My face burnt hot as I stood.

A frail fae leant on the doorframe for support, eyes wild. Her once luscious hair was unkempt and matted, her lips cracked and bleeding. If I didn’t know any better, I’d estimate her to be in her later years, easily centuries years old.

“He’s dead,” she shrieked, drawing all eyes in the room to her. A great sob wracked her body. “They got him and they’re coming for me.”

Iris touched my hand. “I’ll clean your bowl. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I said, my legs heavy as I approached the woman. “Come on mother, let’s go back to bed.”

At the touch of my hand on her shoulder, she writhed. “She’s trying to kill me. Help!”

I shied away, but I was too late, her fist catching my jaw. Even as a steward caught up to us, breathless, and held her back, she battled to get at me. I clutched my face, tears stinging my eyes, all too aware of the curious eyes on us.

“Sorry Seraphine,” Darwin said. “She somehow got a fork and attacked me when I was putting her to bed.” The indent of it was visible on his hand. There was nothing he could have done about it. My mother smuggled whatever weapons she could to protect herself from hidden foes. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll help you.” 

With Darwin’s help, I steered her back into the hallway, away from prying eyes. My mother didn’t make it easy for us, fighting us with all her strength.

Closing the door behind us was a difficult endeavour. When we eventually succeeded, I hummed the melody of her favourite song, the one my father had written for her as a wedding gift. Music was the key to the soul, he’d told me. The familiar sound subdued her, my mother returning to her demure self. Something had broken within her when we lost him. Something not even a healer’s care could repair.

“I should quite like to retire to bed now,” she said softly.

“What a grand idea,” Darwin said. “I’ll take you straight away.”

She waved regally at me; her face clouded in confusion. “Goodnight. My apologies. I don’t seem to recall your name.”

There was nothing left of the exacting woman who once raised me to have the prospects she’d never had. The woman who had rewritten her own history to blend in with the merchants’ wives on the hill, wasting her life worrying about status. Now there was only a ghost who wore my mother’s face.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, leaving them behind.

The musty air of the Old Keep felt suddenly suffocating. I fled into the courtyard, sucking in deep breaths. It had been so long since there was solid ground beneath my feet, since I had the surety of knowing who I was meant to be. 

My mother wasn’t the only ghost who wandered the halls.

Candlelight illuminated the window of the medical wing. Keeping busy was the only thing that kept me grounded. I could lose myself in the challenge of it all. 

Healers were the beating heart of the Night Ravens, but lacking in the numbers required. Studious recruits favoured joining the scholars to analyse information and research to their hearts’ content. And the natural problem solvers became scouts, travelling the realm to hunt its secrets. We were united in our purpose to protect the realm, secretly watching over Idrix for generations, but divisions persisted.

I’d never imagined this life for myself. But there was nowhere else my mother could go. I had to do everything I could to ensure there would always be a place for her here.

And if that meant keeping a smile on my face in public, and only falling apart alone in the dark, then I would endure it.