Building anew

Vasir dragged his favourite stool next to the window and sat in silence. The storm outside intensified, and water lingered down the barn’s crimson wood, sneaking in through the cracks. He loved the smell of rain, the sound of droplets hitting the ground and the deafening roar of thunder. His fingers tapped his knees in a synchronised movement. He looked to his right at the painting on the wall from where his family smiled back at him. His dad behind his mum, holding her close to his chest. They looked so happy.

But they were gone from that world. Moved over to a better one where, without a doubt, they were still in each other’s embrace, smiling. A world where people were given a second chance and lived without the worry of persecution.

A carriage pulled by two white horses stopped in front of his mansion. He sighed, tied the belt around his waist and placed a cape over his shoulders. He locked the door and jumped inside the carriage.

“Good morning,” he said to the woman on the other side and sat on a soft cushion.

“And what exactly is good about it?” answered Ava, moving a few strings of ginger hair from her face. The coachman announced their departure and the carriage was on the move.

“Nothing, I suppose.”

“I concur.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to entertain small talks.”

The woman placed one leg above the other. “It wouldn’t benefit me either.”

Vasir sighed and remained silent. He pushed the black curtain covering the window and gazed outside. The streets were mostly empty except for a few workers that had no choice but to brave the rain. A woman pushed a wheelbarrow filled with apples down Rotthery Road to the market and, just as the mail carrier’s coach advanced past her, Ava spoke.

“Very well, I apologise.” She looked him in the eyes before continuing. “I’d rather venture into a conversation than being bombarded by this odious silence.”

Vasir nodded at her.

“Good morning,” he smiled, releasing the curtain back over the window.

“Morning. Are you prepared for the meeting?”

“Must I be?” he asked, smiling.

“I assume not. One way or another, we have to reach a verdict in the case of Rosalia Laveu.”

“I thought as much.” Vasir placed his fingers together and rubbed his thumbs against each other. “It is a very unpleasant matter, and I can only hope that she will make it out alive.”

“Unlikely. Not after what she’s done.”

Vasir made an effort to control his temper and maintain a straight face. People like Ava were the problem, the reason behind his project.

“I just despise the idea of people getting slaughtered as a result of our actions.”

“You need to get familiar with the sentiment,” said Ava. “It is part of our royal duties, after all. Some get to live; others have to die. It’s life.”

Vasir faked a yawn to hide his disgust.

“That’s more like it,” said Ava, laughing. “The attitude you need for this position.”

The carriage stopped, and the coachman announced their arrival.

Moments later, everyone was gathered around a thick, oak table: spymaster Aluvia, followed by Ava, the treasurer, King Lucius and finally himself, the citizens’ spokesman.

“Proceed,” said the King, nodding at Aluvia.

“Let’s begin with the matter on everyone’s lips. Lady Laveu.”

Ava and Vasir made eye contact.

“Enough of this,” said King Lucius. “I already addressed my distaste for this woman. She is to be hanged for her crimes.”

“With all due respect, my lord, but her support amongst the citizens is growing by the hour. Everyone is certain of her innocence,” said Vasir.

“So his worship is right then,” concluded Ava. “The faster we…” She cleared her voice. “Deal with the matter; the quicker the support for her vanishes.”

“And that’s precisely why you are the treasurer,” replied Vasir in a mocking tone. “If we were to do that, she would become a martyr. She would get the support of everyone. To refer to that as a mistake would be a massive understatement.”

Ava started talking when the King interrupted her.

“Silence. Vasir, I don’t particularly care about the support she had amongst peasants. I want her eliminated. Do I make myself clear?”

“My lord, Rosalia only defended herself against Lord Bolton. What was she to do? Let him have his way with her against her will?”

“Enough. I do not care.” King Lucious waited a few seconds before continuing. “I do not care what happened. What I know is that Lord Bolton comes from a respected family, one who’s always been by my side.” Another pause followed. “I want Lady Laveu hanged tomorrow at sunset. Is that clear?”

Vasir sighed.

“As clear as it gets.”

“I’ll send word immediately,” said the spymaster.

The night came swiftly, and Vasir was waiting outside the prison in yet another black carriage. How awfully boring. He felt as if half of his life only involved being idle.

The prison doors opened, and three silhouettes rushed out—a woman whose dark hair pushed out of her hooded cape and two men behind her. Vasir opened the door, and Lady Laveu joined him. He knocked the side of the carriage with his cane, and they were on the move.

“My lord,” she said, her voice covered in fright.

“Lady Laveu, it’s an honour.”

“I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but what is happening?”

Vasir tilted his head to one side. “I thought it was quite obvious. I’m helping you escape. Did my men not convey that to you clearly enough?”

“No, they did. But I don’t understand why.”

“Oh, you want to know my motives.” He cleared his voice before continuing. “Very well. The council decided on your criminal actions. You are to be executed tomorrow.”

Rosalia inhaled loudly, covering her mouth with her palms. “Executed? But I did nothing wrong.”

“Exactly the reason for your escape.”

She opened her mouth to talk, but no words came out. They sat like that for a while, listening to the galloping of the two horses and to the whooshing of the wind.

“Where are we heading?” she asked, looking outside the window.

“To my home. You should be safe there for now.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you doing all of this? What have you to gain?”

“Me? Absolutely nothing.” Vasir smiled, scratching the back of his head. “You, on the other hand, get to keep your life. Does that trade not benefit you?”

“I apologise. I don’t mean to be ungrateful; I’m just trying to understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. I’m helping because I want to. Please, no more on this matter.”

Rosalia nodded and didn’t utter another word until they reached his house.

“Inside the barn?” she asked in a quiet tone.

“Yes, you should be safe there.”

The woman was hesitant, her eyes oscillating between him and the run-down barn.

“My apologies for the state of it,” continued Vasir. “I keep meaning to have it repaired, but unfortunately, I never seem to find the time.”

“How long will I have to be in there for?” she asked, her hands shaking.

“I arranged for transport at sunrise.”

Rosalia exhaled, rubbing her palms against each other.

“I can tell that you are worried,” said Vasir. “But you mustn’t be. I’m putting my life at stake to save yours, Lady Laveu. If that’s not reason enough to trust me, I don’t know what is.”

“I’m sorry.” Rosalia started crying. “I’m really sorry. Over the past two weeks, I’ve been through hell and back and...” She covered her face. “When someone is finally kind enough to help, I don’t know how to accept it. I apologise.”

“No apologies necessary. I understand completely.”

Vasir opened the barn doors, and they both moved inside. The light of the moon snuck through the only window and lit half of the place. It was spacious and packed with what you’d expect to have in a barn: wooden wheels, shelves with tools, pottery and lots and lots of hay.

“It’s not very comfortable, I’m afraid.” His voice made Rosalia tremble. “But it should do for the night.”

“It’s better than the prison, my lord.”

A slight buzz came from behind the hay in one of the corners. Rosalia was trying to understand what created it.

“I would bring over a candle, but it’s unwise to have fire in here.”

“I understand,” she said, still looking at the corner.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I thought… never mind. I’m good.”

The buzzing intensified, but Vasir pretended not to hear a thing.

“You must be famished. Should I fetch you some food?”

Rosalia moved closer to the sound. “My lord, can you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That vibration.”

She noticed a green light slightly pushing from within the hay.

“What in the heavens is that?” she yelled, moving backwards. “My lord?”

The barn’s doors shut closed, and Vasir disappeared.

“My lord, what’s happening? Where are you?” Rosalia tried to pull them back open, but they wouldn’t budge.“My lord, you’re scaring me. What’s the meaning of this?”

“Don’t fret, my dear.” His voice came from inside the barn. “I will take you to a better world. One where you can live in peace.”

“No, no. Let me out.”

“Shush, that is the whole point of this.”

Rosalia yelled for help and cried.

“In the darkness of our souls, we call for one,” whispered Vasir, approaching her from behind. He placed a dagger to her throat, her back pushing into his chest. “And every single time, she answers.”

He slit Rosalia’s throat with one quick movement and waited for her to die in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But this is the only way to take you across.”

Vasir slowly carried her corpse to the buzzing corner and cleared the hay with one leg. A bright emerald light filled the barn. It was so strong that he couldn’t look directly at it. He placed her body down, and within seconds, the light swallowed her.

“It is done.”

Vasir then placed the knife against his own throat and, as he had done many times before, committed suicide, the light gulping at his body.

When he opened his eyes, he was in his bed with his parents by his side.

“Vasirius,” said his mum, kissing his forehead. “What took you so long to visit us?”

“I’m here now, mother. I’m here now.”