Chapter 3

My body ached, I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept for more than 3 hours each night for the past week. I had been slaving away at the little farm house. Today marked the day I had finally finished cleaning up the house inside and out. It was a huge achievement, but in the grand scheme of things it felt like nothing. The house was clean, but it was empty. Apart from the wood stove, a kitchen bench, a toilet and a bath. It was nowhere near a home yet, and the thought of trying to get those things on a wage where I could hardly afford food was nauseating. But if nothing else I had a dry and safe place to call my own. Even if I achieved nothing else by this at least I could get away from my parents. I still needed to try and find a bed, cooking utensils and kitchen equipment. Until I could find those I was stuck. I couldn’t live here without the means to feed myself.

I dragged my feet along the dirt path towards the family home. At this point I was pretty sure I would have been happy to sleep in the dirt. The house was right on the other side of town and the walks were really wearing me down. But my hands were tied for the time being, so I soldiered on the best I could. I could feel eyes on me, as I walked down the streets. I knew many people in town had noticed me walking from one end of town to the other every day. Anything unusual was hated, I knew my ritual why harmless was putting them on edge. What was the purpose of my walk? I could almost see the questions etched on their faces. The worry and nerves, the uncertainty, the pure fear of something, anything making life harder than it already was.

 I opened the door to eyes like daggers aimed right at me.

“Where the hell have you been going all week” my dad screamed at me.

“For a walk to clear my head, I walk around town” I reply. I hated how nervous I was around them. They did not deserve the satisfaction they got from watching me shrink down in fear.    

“You should be helping around the house you ungrateful brat” my mother spat the words at me. Filled with hatred.

“I’mmm” I stutter

“You are what, useless, a waste of space, unlovable, brain dead, ugly. I could go on. But it would be a waste of my breath. You are telling us you are just walking around out there like some pathetic loser. Because we both know no one would want to be with you. Your father and I are the only people who would ever put up with you and yet you can’t even thank us by giving us our fair share of your wages”

“My wages, I can’t give you those. I need them”

“How dare you talk to your mother that way” my dad roars

I flinch and cover my face waiting for the impact. My body crashes into the wall behind me. I pant franticly trying to get air back into my lungs. It felt like my lunges had been ripped out my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Being winded always felt like I was going to suffocate. I listen to my dad’s words over the ringing in my ears “She is so fucking dramatic”. I wished I could say this was uncommon, but it was not. This was a typical occurrence, which had become a lot more frequent of late. They were insanely fixated on my whereabouts lately. It was like they could sense something was up. I was afraid of them finding out where my house was.

My vision blurs and my head begins to spin as the world around me distorts. Not another flash back thing I cry to myself. I race up the stairs, I reach out for my bed. I needed something to stabilize myself. The sensation of my soul being sucked into another time and place disorients me. There were bodies everywhere once again. Their screams leached into my heart. This time I saw my parents, hiding. Watching as the people around them take their last breaths. The smell of blood was consuming, it burned my nose and throat. Was it the blood, or was that gas? Whatever it was it burned. The surroundings looked similar to home. I turn to see my parents huddled together behind a brick wall. They looked young, younger than I had ever seen them. The fear etched on their faces was painful to see. Even through all the hate they forced on me, seeing someone with that level of fear was heart breaking.

I walk through the bodies, looking at their faces. No one looked familiar to me. I shudder as weak arms claw at my legs. Begging for relief from their suffering. Each beg felt like a knife to my heart. I hold the hand of an elderly lady as her eyes close for the last time. I hold one hand at a time, trying to give some relief and support to the dying. The simple act of holding hands begins to drain me. My eyes flutter shut, as I struggle to stay awake. Someone grabs me and drags my weak and limp body away from the scene in front of me. “Are you mad? There is no way a healer can heal that many people it will kill you” The mystery man explains to me.

“What happened here”

“She must have lost her memory the poor girl, A great injustice is what happened. A private group of Hydreas men came and killed everyone. The justification there was too many gifted in this town. Innocent people a whole town just murdered. Cold blooded murder. The only way to survive now is to flee to Kashaw” the strangers talked so softly and gently. As if to give me support.

“Why, kill us but not Kashaw?

“Kashaw, only has a 1% birth rate for gifted children. We had a 10%. There are some people who are insanely jealous of the gifted. If they can’t have gifts, then no one can. “  

“Get THEM” a man screams

“Run”. I spring to my feet and just run. As fast as I can. I leap over bodies, I just keep running until I felt like I could stop. When I do I turn around and see my parents being tortured by guards. It came to me suddenly the voices I had heard them before. The next scene I had seen before. I didn’t recognise it, because I haven’t heard it in this light before. I knew where they were going, Ikenfield. The concentration camp for suspected gifted individuals. I had heard their screams, cries and whimpers in other flash backs. The flash back was pitch black and cold. I could never see a thing, only hear the pain that echoed through the walls. I didn’t know how many people were sent there. My parents refused to speak about it. They would beat me black and blue if they heard a peek about it. All I knew is it had been shut down many years ago.

The flash backs brought a new light to what my parents had been through. I did feel bad for them, I did. What they had been through was unimaginable. I know they were carrying around a great deal of pain. But I still could not excuse the way they had treated me, throughout the years. Like them I was also innocent. I didn’t deserve to suffer, because they had been forced to. Over the years I prayed for them to change, so I could forgive them. I wanted to forgive them, so I could try and let go of the pain. But they would never allow me. I guess because they felt unable to let go of their own, they wanted to make sure I couldn’t either. The world they had to endure had made them bitter and angry. I never wanted to do that. I never wanted the pain of the world around me to destroy the beauty I had in my heart. 

The visions had become more and more constant lately. I didn’t know what to do about them or what they meant. I wasn’t sure if they were connected to my gifts or if they even had any truth to them. But how was I, to know. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen to me if anyone found out I had gifts. I haven’t told a single soul about my gifts, my parents didn’t even know. Letting anyone know would be a death sentence I was sure of it. Getting through the testing was becoming more and more difficult. I didn’t know what to do, the more I pushed my gifts away the harder it was to contain them. I had no support and nowhere to turn. I couldn’t name a soul who could help me. As far as I was aware no one knew how to use the gifts anymore. I really needed to find some information out, anything that could help me conceal my abilities. 

Visions made my gifts heighten, which naturally put me on edge at the best of times. My gifts had been heighted to a new level lately. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the stress, lack of sleep or the constant beatings I had been receiving from Charles’s little army. But what-ever it was I had to get to the bottom of it. But how could I without drawing attention to myself. The only place where I would find any sort of information would be the old library. The old library had been around since the city was foundered in 1614. It was originally built as a place of worship. It was then converted into an archive for the city’s history, before becoming a library. It was right on the edge of the city. It was a forgotten place mainly, most of the books were about a history long forgotten.

The thing about history is you can’t rewrite it. Which scares people I think. History can be scary and confronting. But hiding it only dooms one to repeat it. I’ve always told myself to be brave, and it took me a long time to work out what that meant for me. For me it meant, not turning bitter and angry in the face of trauma like my parents had, being able to face history with truth, wisdom and understanding, taking steps forward even when I was terrified. I had to learn and accept that life isn’t always fair, suffering sometimes is brought to those that don’t deserve it. But the thing about life is, you only ever have two options, die or carry on. You have to trust you can build a better life, even when life has dealt you a bad hand.

The library was huge, floor to ceiling filled with tatty, faded books. Finding my answers would not be a walk in the park that’s for sure. But let’s be real, nothing came easy here anyway. So not exactly unexpected. The visions took quite a lot of energy out of me. I collapsed onto the bed, and let my heavy eye lids close and let myself drift off. I didn’t have to work today, Ms Cathandra had given me the day off. Saying I looked like shit. Which she wasn’t wrong about, I looked like a walking corpse. The dark circles under my eyes, looked like I had been dug out of a coffin. I did not look good. The consciences would be worth it. Sometimes you have to push yourself to achieve great things, and I was on my way to achieve a better life.

I awake to the sound of my parents talking to what sounded like Charles. My parents may treat me horribly and be bitter towards me. But they did not hate me as much as they hated the city, so Charles got quite a mouth full. They were not happy having him at their door stop. I can imagine it brought back memories they did not care to relive.  It brought quite a smile to my face hearing him get told to piss off. That smile quickly faded from my face when I realized I was probably going to receive a beating for this. Well not if I am not here. I open the window and jump out. The snow created a cold, but soft enough landing. I walk bristly towards the city, might as well check out the library I guess. I was nervous, but at the same time a little excited as to what I might find out there. While I didn’t want to get my hopes up, the possibilities could be almost endless.

As always, the library was empty as I walk through the endless rows. Every book had a mountain of dust on it. I could hardly read a single title. The row labels had long faded, a reminder of a time when the history of our land was treasured. I wipe my hand across the spines, every few meters to try get a feel for what area I was in. I sneeze as the dust particles filling the air irritate my noise. This was going to take ages surely. I used to spend a great deal of time in here, when I was younger. Long before I knew about my gifts. I used to love it here, it was always empty, and peaceful. No one to cause me any harm. I was only interested in the books with nice pictures, or fairy-tale like stories back then. Which I kind of regret now. If I had taken more of an interest in some history, I might have had a starting point.

I stumble over something on the floor, I look down to find a latch. A latch well that is odd, I don’t remember ever seeing that before. I pull it up to find a basement filled with, you guessed it more books. I leaver myself down as the little wooden staircase, looked like it had seen better days. I did not feel like getting trapped here. All the books down here, looked similar in age and style. Well at least from the limited visual I got. A hidden room in a library filled with books seemed odd to say the least. I take myself on a little tour around the room, it was pretty big. Not much smaller than the top story. Well that makes more sense I say to myself as I see an arch door way around the corner. The door way was nailed shut by wooden boards. Well it wasn’t always a hidden room then.

I have a little hunch, that this room will have more answers than the one above. Once again, I wipe my hand across the spines every few meters. Until something catches my eye, a faded navy-blue book with a velvet cover. The title Match Makers Guilds. I flip through the pages to find a list of guilds, their names and members. As I looked over the members I found a lot of the guilds had families dating back generations who had been in the same guild. It looked like they took immense pride in their membership. It was no wonder with books like this, that Hydrea found it so easy to find us all.  As I flip through the pages I feel myself getting a little emotional as I see the pages and pages of people. People who had been killed, and taken away. Families that had their pride stripped away. These books must have been boarded away for safe keeping.

I take another book and find myself looking at a photo album. Someone must have hide it here many moons ago. I look through all the memories, of many different people. All with massive smiles on their faces. People at guilds, balls, dances, schools, competitions. A group photo catches my eye. I read the banner above the group. It reads gifted talent contest, Belaria square. I skim over the name written on the side of the photo. Sally Cameron and Denis Benchman. I looked over the album for anything really, any more information. Finally, to my joy I find another picture of them winning prices at another talent contest. Sally Cameron a member of the healer and green thumb guilds, and Denis Benchman a member of the Green thumb guilds. She had two gifts. So, it has been known to happen.

My mind is filled with many questions, how many times were people born with more than one gift. Was it rare? Did it happen often? I grab another, another match makers book. I read the pages in awe. Match making while fashionable, exciting and helpful amongst the giftless, match making is much more important amongst the gifted. A wrong match can unbalance your gift. Which in turn can make you unstable and your gifts dangerous to use. Finding the right match is very important for those rare individuals who have two gifts. Double gifted people are a lot more prone to becoming unstable with an incorrect match. While being double gifted is not common, it is recommended to be on the lookout for anyone showing sign of double gifts.

Well that opens up a new problem. I needed to find a match maker. How in god’s name was I meant to find a match maker. I exhale a big breath of frustration. It wasn’t like I was really expecting to find answers, but I sure wasn’t expecting to find more problems. I had enough of those. I put the books away and make my way out of the library. I needed some time to digest what I had learnt, before ingesting more information. I round the corner, and almost walk straight into the back of a older women. I freeze, oh dear. I may be in some trouble here. Never trust anyone. The words repeat themselves in my head. I hold my breath, hoping she hasn’t noticed me.

“Hello dear”

“Oh hello” I manage to choke out from my lack of breath.

“A Kashawian, I see”

“Oh umm”

“Hydreaians, don’t have the caution that is written on your face, dear. I may be old, but I am not blind nor oblivious”

“I’m sorry, I had no intention of insulting you” The words basically fall out my mouth.

“It’s not often to see people in here, only people seeking ancient, or restricted information come here”

“That’s a dangerous accusation to be making around here. You are also incrimination yourself”

“I am well aware of the times in which we live, and the dangers that come with it. Especially considering who we are”

“Who we are?

“Your aura, while faint because your gifts haven’t been open. Can still be seen, by those who can see beyond what is easily visual”

“Who are you”

“That is not for you to know child, but there is much more to this world then you know. A lot of information you seek cannot be found here. But a match maker, you will find with the elite”

“Is that a riddle? How do you know what information I seek? What do you mean the elite?

“A riddle it is not. I see not with two eyes, but three. Not all gifts did fit in the cities box. A perfect match, can bring you great success leading to power. The elite never pass up an opportunity for power. There are secret match makers hidden around. A real life, where’s Wally if you will”

Just as she appeared she vanished out the door.