Cursed Times - Only Yesterday! Sequel to Wattys 2015 winner!

Chapter 34: Trueth - Witching Hour - Part 2

Trueth held on to her tea and moved closer to Seisi for comfort. He was leaning forward, an intent expression on his face when Damian started to speak.

'You, Trueth, will know most of it already. Those people who built the circle also were the ancestors of the so-called witchfolk. So many of them burned and died, only some of the children survived and we are their descendants. There is a curse on us, which protects our memories. Each of the children was given a snippet of the old lore, they passed it on to their children in turn but so much has got lost. There were not enough of us left behind, and during all those years our talents have grown weaker and weaker... .'

Damian picked up his mug with both hands and drank like a man possessed.

'I never knew you lot even existed!' Trueth fought hard to keep the accusation out of her voice. 'I felt like the ultimate freak when all this started. My grandmother gave me the same backstory. Those things she could remember. But that didn't help me at all. Especially as neither my mum nor my sister possess even a morsel of magic. Grammy always thought I was the end of the line.'

The old man gazed at her over the rim of his mug, the haze from the tea fogging his spectacles.

'When what started?'

'I turned fourteen, my...monthlies set in and soon after my left hand started to glow whenever I got upset. Eventually, it did not only glow, but it also began to spark. And finally I had these blue bolts of light coming out of my palm, starting fires. I felt like frigging Carrie from the Stephen King novel...are you okay?'

Damian had gone pale in the face. He dropped his mug. Seisi caught it in mid-dive and mind-shifted it across to the doily.

Their host never noticed, he wrung his hands instead. 'You're a healer! Oh God, there still is a healer around. We can be whole again!' He started crying and buried his face in his hands, knocking his glasses askew on his nose.

Trueth rose. 'He needs help. I have to—'

—Do not touch him! Seisi's mind-talk was unusually loud. Your first contact already gave him strength, and he is still gathering power. It is slowing down, but I do not know what is happening here, and we should exercise great caution!

The old man, fighting for composure, pulled an old-fashioned linen handkerchief from his pocket, blew his nose and stuffed the crumpled cloth back into his trouser-pocket. 'Forgive me, I forgot myself. I thought the witch hunters got all of you.'

'Maybe I'm a mutant. That would be more in character,' Trueth said. 'I know I'm a magical healer, but this is nothing special. At least not in Kemet.'

'It's very special, believe me. Even in the past there were so few of you. The healers are catalysts. There is so much you can make us do.'

'You wanted to show us something,' Seisi reminded him.

Their host nodded and dragged himself from the sagging seat of his chair. 'Wait a moment.' He opened a door at the back of the room and step by halting step, plodded into what had to be the cellar.

Seisi and Trueth turned towards each other almost simultaneously. 'Shit,' she said. 'This is scary. Do you think he's telling the truth?'

'Yes, he was honest and told you all he knew. His strength, as well as his talents, are still increasing. After just one touch. I have no clue what is going to happen if you run into a whole group of your people. I cannot reach Metjen anymore, but I would say we get out of here as soon as we can.'

Trueth drank a sip of her tea. Seisi was right, the whole encounter had left her with a feeling of cold. Of dread. Damian was a kind man, but he also represented a power that was totally alien to her.  At the same time there was no way she would give up now. She had to know. Her mind made up, she addressed Seisi once more.  'I would like to meet the others. Damian said, if things were ok, he would introduce me.'