A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 7 PART 1

nexusfyre (56)in #writing • 7 years ago (edited)

A Note From The Author...

Several projects have been pulling me in different directions as of late. Particularly the Nanomancer writing competition that myself and several others from the the Fiction Workshop entered. If you are curious, check out my entry The Great Wound. I was super excited and very humbled that it was chosen for first prize in the contest. Other than writing, I have been doing a lot of peer editing in the Fiction Workshop on Discord chat. If you ever want to say hi, you can find me there quite readily.

I also recently wrote a three-part love story called Tanabata. A lot of my heart went into this piece. In fact, I felt an inspiration that I have never experienced guide my thoughts while putting it together. I would say almost divinely inspired...

I am very glad to finally bring chapter 7 to the light of day. Even though still in rough draft form, I am fairly happy with it. When the entire novel is complete, I imagine that some things will likely change though. As always, I encourage anyone to leave comments below, including critiques or ideas. Thank you all for taking the time to follow me and check out my writing. It all of you that make up this community that keep me motivated to write. I am truly blessed to have you all in my life. Cheers!

A World Long Sundered -- Chapter 7 PART 1

The days that followed proved very trying for the Riggs family. It took nearly four days for Auryn to wake. For the first day, he lay deathly still and silent. Lucia and Donovan took turns watching over him. This left precious little time for the duties around the farm which quickly piled up. Kyndra tried her best to do the small errands (and a few of the big ones) with her mother’s direction. Nor did the weather help. The rain from the day before had developed into a full-blown storm with seemingly little intention of stopping anytime soon.

Early the second morning, Lucia awoke to her son’s struggling, for she had fallen asleep in her chair while resting her head on his bed. However, the boy still refused to wake. Instead, periodic fits would take him—not unlike a child’s nightmares.

It soon became clear that was exactly what they were when he began talking in his sleep. Donovan said this was a very good sign, for it meant his mind was still functioning as it should. Lucia took heart in this notion but she still anguished over watching her child struggle through nightmares he was unable to wake from and for which she had no control over. All she could do was comfort him during each labor. Holding his hand and running her fingers through his thick hair would usually ease the boy for a time. His speech was broken and unintelligible. Sometimes she could make out him mentioning the silvadena or Bo, but the rest was usually gibberish. Understandable given the circumstances.

Rarely, though, he spoke of other things. None of which she had any idea of where or how he may have gotten them. Names mostly, or at least Lucia thought they were names, surely no one she had ever had any contact with.

Kyndra often spoke in her sleep, the lively rantings of a child trying to make sense of the waking world in a slumbering one. Yet, the sounds coming from her son were different, more organized—almost like a different language. If so, it was unlike any she had ever heard. Donovan had been present for one of the episodes. The old man tried to hide his concern but Lucia saw right through him. When pressed, he admitted that if Auryn does manage to wake, there may still be the concern for state of his mind.

Lucia had treated a few with severe head injuries in the past. Some lost the ability to speak entirely, while others struggled to form basic words. She couldn’t help but worry for her son, but neither could she believe his condition was the same. His voice was clear, although usually unintelligible.

Donovan stayed as long as he dared, but returned to town the afternoon of the second day. He’d already stayed longer than he’d planned and if the storm proved to be as fierce it was looking, he didn’t want to get stuck on this side of the river in case the bridge washed out. Listing off a few instructions for Lucia in the event of any rapid change in the boy’s condition, he departed in the downpour.

Yelling over the rain, Donovan tried to encourage Lucia as he left.

“Remember, there’s a reason why folks travel the Eastern Kingdom to end up at your doorstep. Your boy couldn’t be in finer hands.”

He offered to carry a few orders to some of Lucia’s smaller clients and would inquire whether Mrs. Primm’s twins would be available to make the journey for the rest in the morning or the day after depending on the weather. He assured Lucia that he would return the morning after the morrow if able.

Despite his praise, Lucia would have preferred the old healer to weather the storm out at her farm, but she knew he had other duties to attend to. Wordlessly, she braved the rain to embrace Donovan in thanks.

Most of the afternoon was spent dribbling broth down Auryn’s throat. He coughed out the majority, but she managed to coax a little down. Kyndra wanted to return to the Bo to see if Nana was still sick but Lucia merely explained she needed her daughter’s help at home with her brother for now. The girl accepted this reasoning, at least, for the next few minutes before asking again. Lucia prided herself upon her patience but eventually found herself responding more curtly than she intended.

“Under no circumstances is anyone to even enter the forest without my specific permission! Do you understand?”

Kyndra, not used to being scolded, nor used to being denied time with Nana quickly resorted to tears. Regretting her words immediately, Lucia gathered her daughter up into her arms and simply held her.

“I know it’s hard sweetheart. Auryn’s going to be just fine. When he wakes up, he’s gonna want to see you. You wouldn’t want to miss that, now, would you?” Her words had the intended effect and Kyndra refrained from asking again. They both ate dinner in Auryn’s room and afterwards, took turns singing songs and telling stories for Auryn’s and their benefit. Kyndra wanted to sleep with her brother but Lucia thought against it. A compromise was made and several blankets and pillows were brought in and placed in the corner for both mother and daughter that night.

The rain showed no sign of ceasing the following day. Thankfully, Auryn had experienced no fits during the night and had slept peacefully.

That was the only good news the day brought. Overnight, the storm damaged the east wall of the chicken coop causing it to collapse. Several of the birds had been crushed or pinned down in the shallow waters and drowned, the rooster among them. Upon counting the remaining hens left, Lucia concluded that several must have escaped into the storm. Without the rooster to guide them back, it was likely they were gone for good.

It took the better part of the morning to clear out the debris and move the fowl to the main barn. Each hen needed to be carried by hand since they refused to be coaxed into the rain. Both Lucia and Kyndra were soaked through multiple layers of clothes by the time they were finished.

Unsurprisingly, the Primm Twins never arrived, it would be far too dangerous to lead a wagon in this weather. The rain-soaked earth could easily shift and break an axle or worse, a horse’s leg. If the bridge had washed out, then a wagon was useless anyway. The Primm farm lay between Haverglenn and the bridge crossing the R’leigh Ro. In normal conditions, the journey from their land to the Primm’s took a few hours. Auryn had usually made the journey when needed. Now, she would just have to wait out the storm.

It took added time to accomplish any of day’s tasks due to the need to check on Auryn frequently. Spending too long out in the downpour sapped their warmth and energy quickly, forcing them to retreat indoors several times throughout the day. In the din of the storm, Lucia had difficulty enough hearing Kyndra. If Auryn had one of his nightmares, she wouldn’t know it while working outside. Once the emergency repairs were completed, Lucia decided to keep them both indoors.

The storm worsened in the afternoon. The rattle and clang of wood and metal collapsing in on itself followed one of the stronger squalls. Even dampened by the storm, Lucia imagined one of the inner sheds must have collapsed. She would have to wait until the storm lessened to make sure. This was rapidly becoming the worse storm she had ever seen in this area. Thankfully, asides from a few chickens, a mule, and a milking cow, she didn’t have to worry too much for the animals. The barn was most likely the sturdiest building on the farm.

Something else concerned her more.

She had never seen this kind of storm this close to the Bo in the decades she’d lived there. The runoff from the forest and base of the western mountains was beginning to flood. Most of the vegetation outside the forest was unaccustomed to large amounts of rainfall in a short amount of time. Plants such as the silvadena possessed a shallow root system and although beneficial for collecting water quickly, short roots meant the whole plant could easily wash away if the flooding came as far as the planting fields. Most of the runoff would flow south and west of the farm, but if the storm continued at this pace it would easily widen and encompass the fields as well. Her concern was confirmed later that evening.

Staring from Auryn’s bedroom window, Lucia watched the deluge outside. She debated on what to do concerning the crop. Salvaging the silvadena was no longer possible, the plants that didn’t wash away would likely perish to root-rot by the time the water’s receded and the earth dried. She would need to harvest as many as she could, and quickly. Not only would the thorns still be usable in her recipes but taking cuttings of the dying plants for new shoots would preserve the current crops potency. Waiting for the shoots to grow more roots would take time, especially since many of the silvadena had recently flowered. Sowing an entirely new crop from seed would take longer though, especially if Auryn couldn’t help her as he usually did.

Auryn. Turning away from the window and back to her son, she sighed. For the moment, he lay peaceful, his breathing unlabored. What was she thinking? Going outside in this weather when her son needed her here was foolishness. The storeroom held enough processed silvadena to fulfill most, if not all, of her current orders. Reproducing the current crops effectiveness remained possible as well; they always set aside reserve seed for just such a setback. No, losing the crops didn’t bother her—no more than it bothered any farmer. It was the feeling of helplessness that hounded her. Focusing on work, on saving the crop just lessened the burden of worry ever so slightly. Sighing again, she turned back to the window.

Besides, the work kept her busy enough to almost forget what was really on her mind.

Those eyes…

A moment later, a tiny tug on her dress announced her youngest’s approach. Lucia hadn’t heard her enter the room. Turning again, Lucia sat on her heels waited for Kyndra’s words.

“Mommy, you can go if you want. I’ll watch Auryn.”

Lucia chuckled inwardly at how, even at very young ages, children often expressed such sincere adult emotions. Her voice overflowed with seriousness. A seriousness that, even though betrayed by her tiny voice, steadied Lucia’s worried heart. It wasn’t the first time that Kyndra’s empathic nature surprised her mother. Lucia began to refuse but her child’s earnestness halted her. She merely hugged her daughter tightly and whispered a thank you.

After preparing several large burlap shoulder-sacks and a small potting trowel, Lucia donned her still-damp long coat and an oiled cloak. She left Kyndra at her brother’s bedside after instructing her, “Place the lamp in the bedroom window if you need me love, I won’t be able to hear you in the storm.” With that, she was off.

Kyndra waited for a time to make sure her mother hadn’t forgot something before slipping on her own jacket and tiny cloak. Before slipping out the rear entrance, she whispered in her brother’s ear, “I’ll get you help, brother.”