Pretty Spelled by K.A Knight
Lilith
I’m nervous. I didn’t even remember the amulet until I saw it, as if it had been erased from my memories, but now I remember vague flashes of agony and so much pain, it felt like my body was being ripped apart…and I’m about to go through it again. Everyone is quiet, it’s so different from the lovely family meal we were just having, with laughter and talking, like old times. They watch me worriedly as they set up a space for this to happen. Each of the women give me encouraging but equally worried looks. Before we can try sharing the darkness and the load of powers, I have to survive putting my soul back together.
Atlas is silent, which is how he gets when he’s worried or angry. His hands clench me to him, watching as the others move the sofas out of the way and lay blankets and pillows on the living room floor before opening the window for fresh air. He doesn’t help, does not speak, just clutches me to him like he is terrified of losing me again. I am as well, of losing myself, of losing him after I just got him back, but I know they are right. It’s an ancient knowledge, not ours passed through the bond. I have to do this. Turning in his arms, I reach up and cup his cheek.
His stern face turns down. He will always be a warrior. He has that look to him. He would terrify most, but never me. I cup his cheek, and he leans into it as I stand up on my toes and kiss his lips. “Do not worry, my love, the Fates would not be so cruel as to rip us apart a second time. I will survive this, and we will be together.”
He nods, closing his eyes for a moment, and I kiss him again. “It’s ready,” Khalid whispers, and I pull away. Atlas tries to grab me, to hold onto me, and I give him a sad smile as I look to the others. “Hold him.”
“Wait, what?” he snaps. My brothers do not hesitate to restrain him as the women sit in a circle around the blankets, ready to help me in any way they can. “Wildflower!” he roars, and I feel him fighting them, so I look back to see him throwing them away, not letting them help.
“They have to hold you back. At the first moan or scream of pain, you will flip and stop it,” I offer sadly. “Please, Attie.”
He sags, letting them hold his arms as he stares at me, never taking his eyes off me. Knowing he is safe, I turn away and step into the circle, lying carefully on the soft blankets as my anxiety grows and nerves make my hands and legs shake slightly. How do you prepare yourself for such pain? I have clearly survived it before, survived the fires of Hell, but it does not make it easier.
Nothing can compare to the fires of Hell…right?
Closing my eyes for a moment, I center myself before opening them, knowing putting it off won’t help. I need to get this over with. Turning my head, I meet Mira’s gaze. Mira is near my head, and to her left, I spot Attie. I give him a weak smile before meeting Mira’s green eyes again. “Okay.”
She nods, rolling her lips in before reaching out and squeezing my shoulder. “We will be here the entire time. You’re not alone,” she reminds me before she hands me the amulet. Instantly, I feel it heat, and it starts to smoke, so I quickly open it. Nothing happens for a moment, and then a second later, I feel the power begin to pour into me.
It’s slow, starting almost softly, and then it gradually gets stronger, until it hurts. It flows through my veins, adding more each time with no escape. The pain builds, and I bite my lip to keep in the sounds, tasting my blood, but then it triples, and the pain explodes into agony. My body spasms as a scream slips free.
Atlas yells as I writhe, the pain burning through me. My bones snap, reconstructing every inch of me into that power. The ragged scream continues to leave my lips unchecked, and I can’t stop it. I can barely breathe, barely think, see, or hear. All I know is pain. The agony is so much worse than burning for years in the fires of Hell.
My head is locked to the side, trapped in this one position as it tears through me. My eyes roll to Atlas, who is fighting their hold, calling my name and trying to get to me, and when I start to cry, he loses it.
I watch them take Attie to the floor, tears blurring my eyes and rolling down my cheeks as the torture rips me apart. He roars and screams, fighting to reach me, so they sit on his chest, arms, and legs to stop him, yet he still doesn’t stop. He bucks and twists, clawing at the floor to crawl to me. I realise he can feel it, feel the pain, so I close our mate bond so he will not have to feel it.
I don’t know how much more I can take without it leaking into him. There is nowhere for it to go, it just keeps growing inside me, more and more, until I feel like I’m dying.
This is the end.
Then, there is a sharp metallic ring resonating through the air, like the sound of bells, and the pain lessens for a moment. My breath hitches as I suck in air, the room silent but filled with anticipation. We know this isn’t the end. Something else is coming, and I stiffen, prepared for the pain once more.
But it doesn’t come.
The amulet explodes, the darkness spilling free. Smoke and the sounds of screams fill the room as the power lifts me into the air. My arms are floating beneath me, my legs outstretched and back arching in agony. My mouth and eyes are locked open as the room around us fades. We are all dragged into my memories—the memories the amulet held.
“Make it stop,” I scream, clutching my head as I curl on the stone floor of our kitchen and Mother’s bedroom. The room is squashed and small but still homey, as it’s filled with memories of her laughter, even after she passed. The plague took her too soon. My bed is up in the loft, with the ladder to the left, but I cannot even bring myself to crawl to it. My head feels like it will split apart, and I wrap my arms around my stomach to hold myself together.
What is happening?
I was cooking and thinking of my family, wondering if they are alive, if they are well in the battle they are waging hundreds of miles away. They left only last week on horses, so I don’t expect letters any time soon, but every time they go, I worry until I see their faces again. Suddenly, the pain hit, making me flip the pot of boiling broth all over the floor and my hand as I crumpled, screaming in pain, my body jerking from it.
What is happening to me?
The memory flips to another, like a slideshow. I had forgotten each one until they appear before me, burning into my brain, and accompanying them are the pain and feelings I tried to forget.
“Your boyfriend isn’t here to protect you this time,” Wolfric snarls. I turn and see him and his friends pushing away from the farm fence. They have always been bullies, always demanding things from me, calling me a traitor to my kind. They are anti-loyalists to the gods. Ignoring them, I spin and lower my head, hurrying as I carry the bucket to the cottage.
But they surround me, stopping me in my tracks. I look between them and know this won’t end well. The sun shines upon me, heating my skin as sweat drips down my neck, yet my hair stands on end, and a weird feeling ignites in my belly.
Not again, no!
Before I can even stop it, it bursts out of me, hitting all of them as they move closer to me for who knows what reason. They are flung backwards with screams. As I watch in horror, Wolfric’s head lifts, his eyes wide and terrified as he stares at me. “Witch! You are a witch!” Not wanting to be here when the others arrive, I leave the bucket, pick up my dress, and start to run.
Head swivelling in panic, I look for somewhere to hide. My heart pumps faster, adrenaline and fear goading me on. I almost fall over the uneven dirt road back to the village, but then I hear shouts. No doubt it’s his family, since his father is the head of the anti-loyalists, after all. If they catch me… No. I can’t bear to think about it.
I need to hide.
I rush into the forest, trees hitting my face and cutting open my cheek as I run, my eyes blurred with tears. My dress rips and dirt covers me, but I don’t stop until I am deep within the woods, the light filtering through the canopy as I slide down the base of a tree, pulling my knees close as I close my eyes and try to slow my breathing.
Why does this keep happening? Each time, it’s stronger. Each time I think these powers have gone, they surprise me. It’s like I am not even human anymore. I don’t know what is happening to me, and it’s terrifying. I wish my family were here, they would know what to do, they would help…but they aren’t.
I’m alone.
“Come on, Lilith, breathe,” I whisper to myself. “There is a rational explanation, there has to—” My voice cuts off as mist starts to roll across the soggy ground, heading towards me. It grows thicker and thicker until it obscures me.
A moment later, I hear it.
They are hunting me, but I’m hidden.
Did the fog come from me? It wraps around me tighter, like a comforting embrace, and time passes strangely inside of it. When it finally disappears, the moon is shining through the trees and only the howling of wolves can be heard. I slump as exhaustion hits me, and then the pain comes again.
Worse than before.
So much worse.
I try to pull back, to not let them see this so they don’t have to suffer the way I did, but it seems they are on this ride with me as we sink into yet another forgotten memory.
“Please, Father, help me,” I beg, my hands pressed to the wood of the church’s sacred doors. The cross hanging above me barely shelters me from the pouring rain. My dress is plastered to my skin, my hair stuck to my pale cheeks. My face is gaunt from the pain and being unable to function enough to do things like eat. I’m dying, I know it.
These powers…they are killing me.
I need help. I came to the only other place I know—the monastery, a day’s walk from the village. My feet are bleeding, and I am on the verge of passing out, yet I bang my hands again, splitting the skin open. “Please!” I scream. “I need help! Please make it stop!”
Sliding down the door, I keep my face pressed to the wood, even as my vision goes black, making me whimper. “Please,” I whisper raggedly. “Make it stop… I can’t take anymore.”
The pain is a constant, always there, always so strong, my every step is heavy with it. Each breath is agony, and each beat of my heart is worse than the last. Sluggish, like my brain.
Why won’t anyone help me?
Where is my family when I need them?
Where is Attie?
Just then, I see him, my vision clear. His face is scrunched, his mouth open in a war cry. His eyes are narrowed in determination. Blood is splattered across his tanned face. His long, black hair is tied back with his beads, the sides shaved. His muscles bulge in his golden armour, his greaves splattered with the same blood, gauntlets too. His axe is held in both hands as he swipes down at a soldier. I spot my brothers among the teeming mass of warriors.
Spinning, I gasp.
I’m on a battlefield. There is an unfamiliar castle on the hill above us, the ground muddy, and I feel like I am sinking in it. Bodies upon bodies are piled up, their eyes unseeing and hearts not beating.
Where am I?
I turn back to Attie to see him leaning on his axe, panting as he surveys the field. “Attie!” I scream, but he doesn’t hear me. I wave my hands, I scream, but nothing works. He looks right through me like I’m not there…
And then I am pulled back, but not to the cold wet door of the church. I spin, confusion and sickness flowing through me when it feels like it won’t ever stop, as if I am being hurled through the air. Thrown, yanked, and pulled apart.
I stop at the base of a stone temple. Blood runs down the steps, so red, it shines in the bright sun. I hear the screams of innocents, their pain and suffering. The air is thick with the scent of death and decay. The trees do not even move in the breeze, as if even nature has ceased to live. The earth is covered in thick black veins, which stretch out into the world. Fog and smoke blow to me from the horizon behind me, where I see villages and cities burning.
It feels wrong, sick…dead.
Turning back when I hear a whimper, I watch a man roll down the stairs, hitting each and every step on his way down. His body is nude and streaked with blood, and bones protrude from his broken skin. Bruises and gore cover him as he rolls to a stop at my feet. My breath halts, and then he falls onto his back, his eyes staring up at the sky. His mouth is still moving, but in silent words.
A plea.
But it’s not that which has me screaming in terror. It’s the face…the man wearing it.
Atlas!
I drop to my knees, trying to touch him, but my hands go through him. The sound of laughter pulls my gaze up, and there, standing at the top of the temple, is a dark figure. A woman with raven hair covered in blood and bones, her eyes as dark as the abyss, and she wields death. As I watch, she frowns and transforms…
Into me.
And Atlas breathes his last breath.
My eyes open, a scream leaving my lips. Tears mix with raindrops as I blink. I’m back at the church. What was that? What happened? Why was I there? Who was she? Is Atlas okay?
But then all I know is pain again, so much pain and a sorrowful voice. “None should suffer as you. To see that far into the future is wrong. You are changing destiny. Changing fates… I am sorry, my child, we made a mistake.”
“Please, please help,” I beg, blindly reaching out until a hand touches mine.
I’m thrown back into my body, and I wake on the living room floor with a gasp. Everyone is lying around me, their eyes blinking open and streaming tears, before every gaze lands on me.
“Lilith,” I hear them whisper as they finally realise how much I suffered.
It’s too much for my mind and body to handle.
I fade into the blackness.
* * *
When I wake up, I’m in the cage. The door is open, and Atlas is wrapped around me from behind, his heart beating in time with mine. It’s dark out. I wonder why we are in here, but then I remember the memories attacking him. They didn’t want to move me, which makes sense, as they were probably worried and just wanted to be safe. I settle into his arms, closing my eyes, ready to go back to sleep and rest.
In the dark, I hear a laugh and realise my mistake. I cut off Atlas, I cut off our mate bond, and in my exhaustion, I forgot to turn it back on. He was the one holding back the surge.
Holding back her.
