The front door of the manor quietly creaked open as Violet led me into the house. The scent of leftover dinner — boiled cabbage — still wafted through the air, which was already heavy with despair. The house was quiet and dimly-lit by several candles which were placed strategically throughout each of the rooms. Cloves of garlic and silver talismans embezzled with the Goddess's holy symbol adorned the doorways of many rooms, including my own.
As I walked past my room, I hastily ripped away the damnable things with a frown of resentment towards Father's radical superstitions. Violet observed me silently as I carried them to the living room and flung them into the fireplace. After observing the flames consume the items, I heard Violet's footsteps draw closer.
“Come, Sister,” she whispered, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder in a subtle gesture to lead me upstairs.
I turned to her, still frowning bitterly, but allowed her escort.
When we ascended the final stair, she withdrew her hand from my shoulder and strode over to one of the closed bedroom doors, from which the flicker of a brighter candlelight could be seen beneath. She knocked softly to announce her presence then entered the laced-white room.
Once we were inside, we found Father standing at Mother's bedside, gazing over her sadly. He didn't seem to notice our presence at first.
“You will be all right, Lily, Dear,” I heard him whisper.
It was then his attention suddenly drew towards me and Violet standing by the door in silence. His eyes were anxious — almost fearful of our presence. I could only assume that it was due to his unnecessary — and rather ridiculous — superstitious display around the house, which I simply scoffed at. Around his neck, he wore a clove of garlic coupled with a silver-inlaid charm of the Goddess's holy symbol. Tied to his belt was a small, silver dagger, its clean blade reflecting an elegant glow from the room's light. He held up a green-tinged apothecary in the form of a small vial, in which he was preparing to administer to Mother. Behind him was a table lined with various medicines and homemade remedies, all of which had seen much use.
My eyes drew away from Father and traveled to the bed where Mother lay deathly still. Her skin was almost as white as the sheets and her once-beautiful face was now thinned and bony. Auburn curls danced along the edges of her face as she slept peacefully. The faintest rising and lowering of the sheets covering her was the only indication that death had not yet consumed her. When I had seen her long enough, I turned my father silently.
He rubbed a small cloth along his forehead, wiping away beads of sweat before speaking to us in an exhausted tone. “Girls, Lily is not responding to the medicines and I don't know for how much longer she will hold on. The curse upon our family — our lands — is evident. We may be forced to leave the farm and travel north to Lakis in order to find the healer we need.” He paused and looked at Mother sadly. “My only concern is ensuring that your mother will be strong enough to endure the long trip.”
I blinked in surprise. “Leave the farm?!” I had known this place all my life, not daring to venture beyond the birch forests.
Violet's mouth fell agape and she looked at him in disbelief. “Father!” she exclaimed. “Do you realize what you are saying?!”
“There has to be another way …” I muttered.
Father looked at both of us in turn and then sighed. “Your mother is dying. We will not find a cure by remaining here. Her life depends on us.”
“We cannot risk any further harm to her body, Father,” Violet protested, shaking her head. “Such a long journey will only worsen her condition.”
Father huffed. “Do you think I am not aware of that, Violet? This is all we can do for now — for her sake. Her body is not recovering; this is the only option we have at this point.” He paused and noticed my flustered expression. “I know you don't want to leave this place and all of our family's history behind, Jasmine.”
I glared at him, pursing my lips bitterly. “Grandpa entrusted you with this farm when he died eleven years ago,” I spat. “We all worked hard to maintain it like he would have wanted. Now you want to simply abandon it?!”
Father's gaze hardened at my words. “Believe me, Jasmine, this decision was not easy. However, your mother's health is my priority and I will not let this damnable blight take her away from me. Please understand my reasoning.”
I regarded him coldly. His words barely touched my mind and it showed in my firm stance and head held aloof, as though expecting him to further explain himself.
His hardened gaze never left mine and he continued in a sharp, more frustrated tone. “Jasmine, don't think I'm not aware of your resistance and hesitation in all of this. You were born and raised on this farm. For sixteen years, this place has been all that you've known, but there is a bigger and far more dangerous world outside these walls. Your mother's condition is not a normal sickness — it is a curse from the Blood Moon. Therefore, it is imperative that we take her to an appropriate physician in Lakis.”
I opened my mouth to speak out against his superstitious banter, but, instead, held my tongue. By the stern look in his hazel eyes, I knew it would be a futile attempt to convince him otherwise. After sighing helplessly, I gave him a faint, reluctant nod.
Father regarded the two of us once more and sighed heavily in frustration. “We will set out in two days,” he instructed. “This will give all of us ample time to prepare. Travel lightly and take only what you need. I do not know when we will return.”
I was the first to leave the room once he had dismissed us. Mother was not dead; but somehow, the air was heavy and rank as though death itself was looming nearby. I sought solace in the small confines of my bedroom, where I stared idly out the window at the Blood Moon, which was already nearing its peak with the approaching late hours.
My eyes drifted away from the skies momentarily and focused elsewhere around the room, trying to decide what to pack for the trip. I adored my books, which were lined neatly on the wooden shelf in one corner. In another corner, the door to my wardrobe was slightly ajar, revealing the laced fabrics of some of my favorite dresses. At the foot of my bed was a large wooden trunk, locked and secured. Atop the trunk was my beloved feline, Periwinkle, who slept soundly in a curled, onyx-colored, furry ball. Overall, my array of material possessions was oddly scarce. My family had always thought it strange for me to be the only child who was content with very little. I had long-since accepted the fact that I was unlike most children. My heart was morbid — devoid of such emotion and lust towards that which could not be taken so easily beyond the boundaries of life and death. In the end, I found peace with myself, knowing that I truly had nothing of value to lose in this empty life.