Faetality

3. Cursed

Was that him? Isla thought. Had she threaded the toes of an evil wizard? She could not bring up a rational explanation for what had happened? How a snow-white dog who had no life-threatening disease died in her hands and with the said fur turning black.

"Was he a mage?" Many murmured. Others merely stared at Isla. Their boring eyes told more than they would like to share. Isla vividly remembered what the man had said before he left. Something about suffering the debt of promise.

Madame Angelica was exhausted having people stand in front of her shop and give it negative attention. While Isla was shaken up by what had transpired in the eyes of both man and spirits, Madame Angelica came to her rescue.

"I refuse to believe the many lots of you actually believe that man was a mage." Her voice boomed, taking hold of the spectating crowd and successfully drawing their attention from Isla to her. "It is merely a coincidence. The animal in her hands was clearly dying and that man was a random Lord who has gone mad."

When that was put in the equation, Isla hardly believed it was 'just' a coincidence. The man had been looking for her. He knew her house and her father's stories. The conviction in his eyes could not be betrayed and whatever Madame Angelica said about the pup was a blatant lie. The poor creature only had a cut that hindered it from walking. There were no life-threatening causes for its death but despite it all, Isla refused to believe she had been cursed. It was absurd. Right?

"So unless you have dresses to sow, disperse from my shop. I would hate to get a negative aura from gossiping Mama's and spineless men." Madame Angelica finished, strutting to her shop but not before turning to Isla and saying, "You are dismissed Isla."

Isla appreciated the cold hands. Her mistress was only looking out for her. As the crowd slowly dispersed with another scandalous fable to spread around, Isla slowly realized she was holding onto a dead pup. Its underside was beginning to moisten and Isla proceeded to dump it in the closest rubbish heap. When she approached the closest heap, a hand tapped on her shoulder. With a silent prayer on her lips, Isla turned and Beatrice came to view.

"Beatrice..." She managed.

"Isla, what promise did you make?" Beatrice demanded, her voice almost shrill.

Isla imagined she was being dramatic but the words of the woman and her tone were very serious. As she assessed the unfortunate widow's face, she sensed fear. It was a jarring sight.

"I...did not make any promise and surely to that man. He was just...mumbling rubbish."

"Rubbish? He is..." Beatrice snapped back, swallowing her words when she noticed that Isla was genuinely frightened. " That was not a man Isla. You just conversed with a demon."

"What!" Isla lurched backward. "The heat seems to be getting to you, Beatrice. I have to go." That said, Isla tried to leave but Beatrice held her back with a grip of steel.

"Do you know why I ended up like this Isla? I asked one of those demons for a favor, I wanted a child and they promised me that I would have many if I gave my firstborn in return. I was desperate Isla, If I knew better, I would not have accepted its offer. When my baby came, I could not let him go. I loved the babe and when they came for my promise, I refused them."

Isla was not sure what Beatrice was mumbling about but it seemed like she was telling her story. The fact that she was certain the man from before was a demon frightened Isla. She was already trying to swallow Madame Angelica's theory and now this. Unable to speak, She continued to listen to Beatrice's story.

"...and they cursed me. My husband was the first to die. Then my mama. Then my papa. The child I sacrificed everything for was snatched by the curse. By that time, The elders and Duke of this province had tagged me a witch that brutally killed her family. The night I was shunned, the demon came to free me of the curse but I had lost everything. Isla, you have to keep your promise. People have already begun to die. Who knows who is next?"

Did Beatrice mean she was under the same curse the demon inflicted upon her? Isla refused to trust such absurdity. She did not care for the dog but it has died. Isla refused to consider that it took love, at first sight, to throw her time and strength to save the unfortunate beast. She was afraid of what would happen if she took Beatrice's insanity to heart.

"It's not true," Isla mumbled to herself, freeing her hands from Beatrice's grip. "It cannot be true!"

Just when Isla was bout to turn a blind eye to the possibility of offending a demon, She remembered her mother. Her self-preservation failed her when she needed it the most.

"You know in your heart that I am right." Beatrice drove the final blow and Isla made a run for it.

She stomped through the woodlands path where her family's cottage stood at a distance. Could it be true? Would the people she loved died because of her mistakes? Would she end up like Beatrice or worse? Tears clouded her eyes as she tramped faster. The blades of the overgrown path tore at her skin but Isla did not care. Not with the many things that dominated her mind.

"Mama! Mama!"Isla yelled when she finally reached the cottage.

"Isla..." A weak voice replied from the inside.

With great resolve, Isla shoved the door open, praying it was just a coincidence. That Beatrice was just mumbling rubbish and that her guts had lied to her. How wrong she was. Mrs. Murry was slumped on the floor, her breath was heavy and her vein popped in direct contrast with her pale white skin. In summary, she was dying.

"Mother," Isla rushed to her mother's side, feeling her pulse and crying. "I will go call the healer."

"That will not do." Isla heard her mother say. "This is not a sickness. Neither is it my fragile body giving up on me. You met him, did you not?"

Isla wished her ears were playing tricks on her but it was clear that her mother was aware of the situation. Her heart broke more realizing it. Why had they not ever mentioned it to her? That aside, Isla was certain she would put her all into saving her mother no matter what it took.

"It does not matter Mama, I have to save you. I have to get the healer."

"No, Isla, only your word can save me now." She breathed. "You met him, right?"

Tears trickled down Isla's cheeks in pairs as she nodded in response. "I did not know mama. I don't want you to die."

"The debt of promise." Mrs. Murry laughed albeit a hollow one. "I will die Isla and so will everyone you love if you don't accept the Sidhe king's demands. But remember, it is your choice. You don't have to bend to the silly promise your grandfather made."

"So it was grandpa..." Isla muttered, more to herself than her mother. But the one thing that her mother was wrong about was saying she had a choice. Did her mother expect her to sit and watch all the people she loved die? She had been groomed for this. All the stories she loved hearing from her father were takes of her grandfather's life. He had befriended a Sidhe. He had promised his friend who had defied his kind for love that he would help him if the time came.

"I will not let you die, mama." Isla finally spoke. She got to her feet and wiped the tears that trickled down her face.

"My fate is sealed, Isla." The woman retorted as she had resigned to death.

"Not yet," Isla assured.

The truth was if the King had cursed her, it meant that she mattered and he wanted her to figure it out. Isla stepped out and looked into the woodlands that seemed even darker at dusk. He was waiting for her to come begging.