The Chill after a Flame

Elation swelled in my chest as my fingertips brushed the cool metal of a lockbox. I pulled it from the churches hiding place, and let out a slow, controlled breath. My eyes closed and I held the box to my chest. Milo’s voice echoed in my head, “I know you can do this, Alora, my Darling.” I could still feel his hot breath on my neck, and I shivered with anticipation for his praise.
My mind flashed with the image of a girl with long black hair and bright blue eyes. Only 7 years old, but as the woven basket passed her, she proudly dropped her coin in. Lizzie, my twin sister, was always so generous. My hands tensed, feeling the weight of the coins stored in the precious box. I chewed my thoughts like fat, unable to swallow. Anger and guilt bubbled in my stomach until I told myself I had wasted enough time.
I pushed forward, my shoes grinding against the cobblestone. Behind me, I heard movement, and I turned to scan the darkness. Then BAM I smacked a table of prayer candles. The metal candle holders clattered to the floor, and I screamed, as hot wax burned my arm. The fire climbed the drapes with ease, spreading quickly to the wooden walls.
Pushing through the heavy front doors, I ran towards the nearest horse. The cold night air went down like broken glass. After I mounted my body screamed at me to leave, to run, to get the hell away, but I stood my ground. I could feel the flames drenching my skin with orange light. My watery blue eyes reflected the horrific fiery scene, unblinking. Hot, salty tears flooded my cheeks, drowning my shirt collar, and my black bangs stick to the edges of my face. I don’t make a move to wipe the tears, I just turn the horse toward the city gates. My face, once warmed by the flames now felt hollow and cold as I ride out of Waterdeep.

At home, I cautiously dismounted, making sure to hide any evidence in the saddlebags. I pushed open the familiar wooden door to find my family somber and surrounding a bed in the middle of the room. Stepping forward, I knew what I’d find. Yet, I still cry out at the sight of Lizzie laying pale and weak on the bare mattress. The light from the fireplace flickered over her skin leaving eerie inhuman shadows streaking across her skin. Her nightgown clung to her skeletal frame, and her face, the same one as mine, was scrunched in agony. Tears and sweat pooled on the bed, and she writhed in it as if she could run from her fate.
“She’s been... asking for you,” Felix said quietly, twisting the silver band on his ring finger.
The room swirled around me as I reached down to stroke her head. I brush her bangs from her eyes like I did to comfort her as a kid. When I did, chunks of her black hair came out in my hand. My hands were shaking as they clutched the locks of hair. My cracked, dry lips parted. All the words I wanted to say faded away. She was clutching the book of Zodal, a gift from grandma Gemma, she never went anywhere without it. I pried it from her fingers, taking the book in one hand, and clutching her bony hand in the other. Her translucent skin strained over her knuckles, threatening to crack.
“Lizzie?” I breathed, and her lidded eyes lifted to meet mine. The usual warmth of her gaze was gone, and the azure left was cold and still. Her hand fell limp in mine.
The shouting and crying spread through the room before I understood. Felix tried to pull me back but I grasped her cold arm, begging her to come back to me. Her sunken face was still the mirror image of mine, so after my pleas dwindled, I ran.
I screamed up at the stars that dared to twinkle. My whole body shivered and tingled. I felt sick, unclean. My hair felt greasy, my skin slick.
Behind me, Grandma Gemma wobbled down the steps, “You!” she wailed, pointing her crooked cane at me, “You’re a sinner girl, a killer!” My family watched from the doorway, their silhouettes sharp against the glow of the fireplace. their shadows stretched down the warped stairs like daggers warning me not to enter.

I stumbled on the sandy earth up to my stolen horse. I felt woozy being up so high. As I clomped away, I looked back only to see Felix’s face, devastated and broken over the sudden loss of his true love.
I rode off into the darkness, pushing myself to go faster, and further until I could ride no more.

The night was cold, and I rummaged through the saddlebags for blankets. What I pulled out, however, was the dark grey robes of Zodal. Guilt overwhelmed me, and I clutched the religious garb to my chest. I was grieving for my sister. Sobbing over the destruction of the church. Crying for the previous owner of the horse. Mourning my misguided love for Milo. Screaming for my family’s forgiveness. Weeping uncontrollably over my mistakes.
Hours go by until I was drained of all emotion. I wasn’t sad anymore, anger had fled, and guilt lay in hiding, for now. I glared dully out at the woods around me, exhausted. The trees felt disingenuous in the fresh light of the rising sun.
My head was heavy as I looked down at the grey wool garment. This is when I made the decision. My heart was stone, my mind set. I undressed with purpose, discarding my old self. I slipped on the heavy grey robes. My chest rose with the first breath of my new life. Allowing myself one sliver of hope, I got back on the horse.