Guarding Cyremn

Guarding Cyremn

I sat on top of a roof looking over the town of Cyremn as they anticipated the celebration of the day of the black sun. People were rushing up and down the narrow streets of cobblestone as the sun sunk deeper into the horizon. It was only a few hours till the festivities began, that was probably the reason for all the excitement. I could not say that I shared their excitement because I saw straight through it all. I knew what they didn't know and I had seen things they had never seen.

When I was a child, my mother sat me down and told me about the legacy of witchcraft. She told me that once in every generation of our family, a witch is born and she told me that that is the reason why our family is entrusted with the guarding of the gate. I did not know what gate she was talking about but later when I was older, she explained that gates are in-between places, places where the land of the living and the after world collide. Every town has a gate, the witches from my family were the gatekeepers of ours. 

As I watched the people, I reminded myself that I had to get up soon because darkness was first approaching and darkness was no friend of mine, especially because of the secrets it kept. I had met my fair share of ghosts hiding in dark corners. Ghosts would never have been a problem, except that sometimes some of them returned with the bad energy from when they died. The energy sometimes spreads to the townspeople who can not see them and sometimes the dark energy causes them to do great evil.

I used to wonder what was wrong with me; why I sometimes saw ghosts. Most of the ghosts were nothing more than the wreckage of what they had once been but once in a while, I did see ghosts who looked and acted so real that one could mistake them for humans. "If you see a ghost," my grandma told me, " hold a hand out to it and tell it to find peace." It worked after a few failed attemps but finally, I was able to send them into the afterworld. 

I stood up to leave the roof, checking to see if I had taken with me the things I needed for what I was doing tonight. An ache silently creeped into my chest because I was not going to join everyone else for the celebration but I quickly wrung it down with the thought that they would probably never accept me in their midst. I would probably never be as perfect as they were in appearance. My Raven hair stuck out like a sore thumb amidst their golden locks. 

Our town was called Cyremn and I used to love it when I was younger, but it took age to see the deep rooted sense of self righteousness and entitlement in the hearts of it's people. All buildings were either grey or black to symbolize the down to earth nature of the people who lived in Cyremn but if you came to know the people, you would see that it was all fakery. Maybe this is why our family decided to keep the secret about witchcraft and the afterworld to itself. I stopped trying after the thousandth time someone told their children not to look at me in the street. 

The day of the black sun was the day the people of Cyremn celebrated their togetherness and love for one another but not for my family. For us, it was the day that only one soul would be allowed to return from the afterworld till morning. Every year, it was random. A mother who returned to make things right with her long lost chid, a man who had returned to apologise for the mistake that cost him his life, a child who came to see her parents face one last time. A girl brushed past me as I made my way into the other side of town. She had been smiling at her companion before but she turned to me with an angry scowl. I had never heard a 'how dare you' statement with such silent clarity.

There was a time when I had beautiful golden locks too, but that was before my magic manifested. The stronger my magic grew, the darker my hair became and I loathed every self- pitying second of it. They say that the first woman with black hair tried to destroy the town. Her name was Vikarine Rue Jerdata and her story is one that I am never allowed to forget.

It was a slow walk to the outskirts of the town, but I was genuinely happy to be there. At least there were no contemptuous looks from the trees. I looked to see if I was alone before I reached the two arch-shaped trees. I sunk to the ground with ease, drawing a rune with a stick.i muttered a chant, locking it with a click as the air started humming with potent static energy. The opening of the gate often required little energy but sometimes, it required more than I had to give. This was one of those rare times. 

I paused for a moment, listening to the loud noises of the festivities. If I took just a little energy from the electricity they were using, they probably wouldn't even miss it. I raised my hand, preparing to draw, I muttered a chant. The rune began to glow again, gradually taking on a red shade. I was Midway into the spell when I realized just how much energy would be required so I kept drawing and drawing till I heard the abrupt stop of the festivity. I didn't have to look back to know that the power was off. 

I had thought of stopping the spell altogether because it was taking more energy than could be found. I would have stopped it if the gate hadn't lit up at that moment, shooting out a blue ball of vicius fames. I dove to the ground just in time to avoid getting burnt in the face as the ball hit an oak tree behind me, cutting it in half. The flames took a few moments to burn out, living behind a ghost with dark hair. The blood red robe she wore contrasted sharply with her semi dark sorroundings but it was what added the drama to her enterance. "My name is Vika." She said.

"I am Raesy Rue Jerdata."As if on cue, the noise of the festivities returned with the knowledge that the power had returned. "So, what is your story?" I asked as I started walking back into town but Vika was not following. When I turned to ask her why, I found her staring, almost aghast at the sight of the lights of the festivities in Cyremn as it blended with the darkness.

I could have sworn that there were strange fires burning in her lapis lazulli eyes as she turned to speak to me with tear rimmed eyes. " It's so beautiful," she said, "please let me into town, I want to touch and be touched for the last time, even if it is just for a moment. I want to feel." She said the later part of the statement with something akin to pain in her tone. I knew the look of loneliness, I was no stranger to it considering how I had been treated by the people of Cyremn.

 " You were a witch," I referred to her Raven locks of hair, "you know the rules. You are not allowed contact with anyone who didn't know you in life." The statement was out of my mouth sooner than I could think better of it. Ghosts were not given substance for a reason. Apart from confusing the entire hierarchy of beings, angry ghosts could unleash terrible damage upon the world of the living. Her heart shaped face dropped as she heard me. She was silent for a long time before she spoke again. " I just want to talk to someone, eat food again, feel what it is like to be felt. Is that too much to ask for?" Her voice broke at the end but it was what made me finally decide to help her. How much damage could a ghost do?

"Okay, okay, but you have to be leashed to me by magic at all time." She hastily nodded , running to embrace me in joy but it was a cruel reminder of her nature the moment she went right through me. 

A collar materialised on her neck with a silken rope attached to it the moment I can't a substantiating spell. The collar and rope were bright for a moment before their colours faded to the naked eye. I could still feel the rope tied to my hand even as we walked into town.

The entire room went still as we walked into a tavern in the middle of town. Being Raven haired, the kindest were those who granted me non-existence but nothing could have prepared me for the looks that Vika received when she walked into the room. Deciding to give her space, I sat a distance away as she struck a conversation with one of the patrons. He looked tall and lithe with a prominent jawline. He didn't seem to mind her Raven hair.

A waitress offered me a drink but my stomach made it's opinion of the matter known just as I started to decline the offer. How much harm could one drink do? 

A few glasses later, I was painfully aware of the throbbing in my head but it was the least of my worries. My guard was completely low as I felt the leash or thereof in my left hand. I was calling myself nine brands of stupid for trusting a ghost as I stumbled to the now bowed over patron at the counter. " The girl you were speaking to, where did she go?"

" She wanted to know where the transformer is" he said as I turned him over to find a bloody patch at the front of his white shirt. "She left a while ago." He heaved a few times before the stillness of death took over and the light faded from his honey coloured eyes. What would vikah want with the only power transformer in town? 

Realisation struck me like a brick thrown at my face in the dark as I watched two patrons start fighting with inhuman anger. Vika was angry. Angry ghosts don't do nice things especially if power transformers are involved. 

I headed straight for the transformer, hoping that she hadn't already done something irreversible. . " I died for them, " Vikah's voice broke from atop The transformers tower as I tried to locate her. "I loved this town so much that it took my life for the gate to be created. I sacrificed my life and they repay me by remembering me as the person who tried to destroy it?" 

"I know how you feel, I have lived my life protecting these people and they repay it by spitting in my face." I tried to reason. " But they are just people, blinded by their ignorance. They may not see what is right in front of them, but that is who they are. It is what they have been made into. Would you love this town if it was anything but what it is?"

"It's not fair." Her sob gave away where she was. I looked at her on the uppermost tower and my heart broke for her. A tank of water was misplaced above the monstrous transformer, hanging dangerously in the air. It should have dropped, it should have turned the entire town into cinders and ashes if Vika's upheld hand hadn't been holding it in place. I didn't even know ghosts could do magic. Her face was tear streaked, illuminated by the flashes of electricity from the transformer.

"Science and magic don't mix, Vika. All of us will die if you drop that tank." The anger in the air gnawed at my mind but I hadn't the time to examine it because Vika was speaking.

" Don't you think it's better this way? They have never been good to you. You will never be one of them no matter how hard you try." She lowered her hand thretteningly when I took a step towards her. "Dawn is not far and by then, I won't be able to make a difference."

"Deep inside, you know that's not what you really feel. I know you want to help them." I did not believe my words even as I spoke them. "Do not be who they think you are." The anger in the air multiplied tenfold. " I Know you are better than that." 

She relucantly put her hands down, bringing the water tank to the ground. Something I had said finally got to her. "Im sorry. I just wanted them to love me." I embraced her after she came down, completely calm and collected. What had been clawing at her finally got to me. There was still anger in the air. Too much of it. Then I realized it wasn't her anger.

The entire time since she had found out about her infamy, people had been absorbing her anger, spreading it to others. With how potent the anger was, I could tell it wasn't one or two angry people sorroundings us. It had to be the entire town.

"Now is a good time to use that power," I said as Vika took a defense stance, sensing the danger we were in.

" Really? I have nothing." I did not like the helpless in her tone. "My power is gone." 

It was true, the horizon was lightened by the first light of dawn. She was already fading. It was time for her to return to the afterworld. " I am sorry." Vika said as she faded into nothingness leaving me alone to face an angry mob armed with all kinds of weapons.

I loved Cyremn but dying for it was a different matter. I sank to the ground, channeling all my energy into the soil. I closed my eyes, willing the energy to flow to the gate between the two realities.

As the sun rose on Cyremn, I watched the ruins of the city, wishing things had gone differently. When the gate blew up, a lot of angry ghosts had crawled out, unleashing their anger till the sun rose. The few who escaped left Cyremn but the rest were trapped in Cyremn.