A Sorceress From the Future

Chapter Fifty Five

Loss.

It is a constant, a phenomenon that does not age or change. Everyone; rich or poor, graceful or uncouth, a noble or a commoner; everyone experiences loss. To some, a loss is that thing that pushes you to the edge; others consider a loss to be a motivation, a wake-up call to embrace the life they had been mediocrely leading. Of course, all this depends with the relationship that you have with the person who has departed the world of the living. The closer you are to them, the graver the loss, the more you are inclined to teeter over the edge. This is simply the way of life.

Baric laid on the uncomfortable bed. It was stiff, the mattress thin. For days he had been subjected to excruciating pain, and for those days, he had wished for death. He could feel his body decaying, every peel was a cause of profound discomfort, and he found himself beckoning the spirit of death, wishing for mercy in eternal sleep. He could not speak or move, and only on rare occasions was he able to hear what was happening around him. Baric had only been half awake when Nina visited him. It is her promise that kept him going. Baric had been certain that the girl would save him from his agony, but now he wished for no salvaging. All Baric wanted; all he craved for was death.

His arrival at the magical realm had been somewhat surprising. Baric had not known that Tamara was the leader of the creatures. His heart had swelled with pride. Baric had always been aware of his sister’s brilliance. She did not deserve to be a mere princess; she deserved to be a queen. When they were little, Baric and Tamara had fought over a pseudo throne every day. They would participate in heated debates regarding the kingdom and the changes that needed to be made. Tamara had been the one to pioneer the farming of tubers after conversing with a local farmer. Even from a young age, his sister had been fierce and opinionated, a leader. Still, it came as a surprise that she had climbed the leadership ladder in a world unknown to her. Yes, she was a witch, a powerful one at that, but how exactly had she convinced a whole civilization that she was the perfect fit?

Baric internally groaned as a searing sensation emanated from his stomach. He wished to hurl, but he couldn’t. He was unable to move; it was as if he had been bound to the bed. It was obvious that a spell had been cast on him. He just did not understand why. It was not his wish to come here. If he had remained at the ball, if he had continued teasing his best friend, perhaps…Yet, he could not blame her. It had been an animated conversation. For once, he had not despised his stuttering; for once, he was able to talk to someone else safe from Lawrence and Luke. For once, he had been able to converse with a beautiful girl without feeling self-conscious. No, he was not displeased with his choice, but he was displeased with these circumstances.

He could not help but wonder about his sister. Baric had been pleased to see Tamara. Many seasons had passed since her banishment. She had not changed at all. She was still beautiful, graceful and tiny, very tiny. The latter had been the first words he uttered. Tamara’s embrace had not changed either. She still dug her nails into the flesh of his back to stress on how much she had longed to see him. Her head still snuggled at the crook of his neck; she still smelled like lavender. Their reunion had been nothing short of beautiful. The shock, the delight, the overwhelming emotions. Baric had asked her why she had sent abductors, Tamara had clarified that she had not orchestrated his abduction. The mages taking him had been a mistake, an unfortunate accident. Baric had insisted that fate had brought them together, that it was about time their family reunited. Tamara had embraced him once more. She had choked in her own tears, she had laughed and sniveled, giggled, and wailed. It had been a series of mixed reactions. Beautiful mixed reactions.

Until the pain started. It had not taken long. His legs had started to swell, then his arms, then his stomach. Tamara had released a high-pitched scream. She had steadied him when his swollen legs became too painful to stand on. She had then led his rapidly swelling body to the bed. The swelling did not seize. Baric helplessly felt his face swell. He attempted to touch it, but his hands had swollen as well, and everything, every part of his body hurt. At some point, the swelling stopped and he began to feel a churning in his stomach. His first instinct was to roll on his front so that he could hurl on the floor but he soon discovered that he could not move. He was forced to incessantly swallow his own vomit. Baric had stopped hearing his sister's screams. He tried locating her, but his eyes were swollen as well; he had blurry vision. Baric had thought the worst to be over up until his skin began peeling itself off. Each peeling activity was torturous. It was as if hot coal was being run across different parts of his body.

Baric’s body was not at peace, and neither was his mind. He kept having lucid dreams of an apocalypse. When he was not visualizing the end of the world, Baric recalled his sin. Baric saw Luke in his chambers in one of his dreams, standing over his bathtub, watching as Baric tried to create a portal. In that particular dream, Luke had grabbed Baric and yanked him away from the bathtub. Baric had wailed at the action as he fought to wiggle free from his brother’s grip. It had been no use because no matter how much the water raged and swirled, it was not his mother that had appeared from beyond the magical portal.

Baric had failed to bring his mother back, just like he was failing at staying alive.