Can you keep a secret?

Lucie ducked her face away from the grimacing, scarecrow-like wicker creatures that loomed closer, creaking as they moved and held onto Málmr neck closer. His gentle voice – the sweet name he called her as he carried her away from the nightmarish beings soon stilled her beating heart. With a faint smile, she pulled a handkerchief from her dress’ pocket and dried the tall man’s tears. It was strange, what she felt around him, ever since he had walked Danaë home back to her. A familiar, warm feeling, a wordless communion she had only felt once in the past. Málmr made her feel safe, the way only one ghost ever did in the past. Perhaps that was why she had been so quick to trust him and consider him family, so quick to let him hold her and believe the tales he brought from far far away corners of Ivras. He gave her deja-vu of something she had longed for her whole life, something she had lost before she could even form proper memories and had been seeking everywhere and in everyone she saw as a protector.  

“That sounds good.” The little girl murmured before wiping her teary eyes. Maybe she had been overthinking this- maybe her mother wouldn’t take the news as badly as Lucie feared she might, at least she and Dogan would know what to do. Perhaps she could even learn how to use her magic – she didn’t want to get her hopes up with the threat of corruption looming at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t help be feel excitement for the stars that were almost in reach of her fingertips.  “I feel bad for keeping this from Mama but… I was so afraid. She’s so scared of magic now and Dogan never says much about it-“ a big yawn interrupted her musings, as she gently let her head rest again Málmr’s shoulder. Fatigue quietly made her limbs go numb, arms weakly hanging off of her shoulders as a cold, tingling sensation prickled at her fingers. It felt like freezing stardust covered her skin when she closed her eyes, wordlessly dozing off, lulled by the man’s deep, gentle voice. In this moment, she felt treasured – she felt safe. Only pink hues danced under her eyelids, steadily pushing her into a comfortable, dreamlike torpor.

The peaceful stillness that settled in her mind didn’t go undisturbed for long. Shouts and cries for help jolted her awake, as her head rose with a gasp – as if she was drowning, struggling for air, struggling to burst out of the pink bubble that threatened to daze her back into sleep. She grew cold, unable to shake the numbness, unable to see anything as she fought to regain consciousness, weakly writhing in Málmr’s arms with faint whines. The creaking and snapping of the branch-like limbs, the heavy thumping of Málmr’s footsteps, the voices calling out in the distance all rang as one, like distant bells echoing within the infinite starry scape of her mind. They weren’t loud enough to pull her out the comfortable numbness she was deeply sinking into. Soon, they were but a distant rumble, like thunder on the horizon. She was no longer able to make out the real events playing out where her body remained from the landscape her mind quietly slumbered into. All there remained were stars.

Suddenly, in the silence, a searing pain pierced through her head, carving its way inside her brain through a rapidly spreading, contagious white, hot pain. It felt like a thousand arrows had just struck her fragile porcelain skull at once – and that it had shattered like countless meteorites raining down on her bones, tearing her delicate silk skin apart. She could feel them, like they were in her own head, somewhere between her ears- stars lighting up like fireworks, balls of fire expanding, too big for her own head.  Suddenly the blackness behind her lids lit up, stars exploding in her mind's eye. Her eyes shot open as a supernova exploded in a lightshow before them, leaving them glowing white and blind to the sorry spectacle that lay waste in front of her. Her skull throbbed in time with her racing heart, each pulse another firework going off, the stars rattling in the cage of her head, trying to break out. She tried to blink, but only saw myriads of stars, raining down her eyelids, printing venomous purple kaleidoscopic shapes on her retinae. Her stomach knotted in response, low and aching, rolling with every violent beat inside her head. Nausea burned her throat, her lips pressed tightly together against it, eyes squeezing shut as pain pulsed behind her eyes.

She buried her face in the curls of Malmr’s hair, finding shelter in his warmth as a grimace detorted her features. “Málmr… It hurts… It hurts!” she cried out, weakly, small fists suddenly clenching around his hair as her white, bulging eyes, looked right past his face. “The stars! They’re burning me! They’ll burn you!” She yelped in a final spasm.

A moment later, blackness fell on the little girl for good, and she went limp in Málmr’s arms. Lifeless as a ragdoll, she let him take her away – back to the road that had once been her home.

Lucie’s mind palace was dark and silent. It took her consciousness a while to move again – drifting in a black sea under a grey, starless sky. Her little ghost self gazed upon the emptiness in utter silence for a moment that felt like eternity, leaving the stillness around her perfectly undisturbed. Slowly, she tried to move, one limb at a time. This proved difficult, for the black waters felt thicker and stickier the more she moved.  It felt like wrestling against tar clinging to her skin, engulfing her deeper and deeper the more she moved. Distant echoes rang in the emptiness of her mindscape – bells pealing in the distance, unsteady footsteps, and a voice she once knew and barely remembered.

“Little light.” A voice called, just next to her – but there was no one lost at sea with her. “I’m here, little light.” It was a young, masculine voice, a voice she had known long ago. A voice that called her home. Lucie struggled stronger against the waters that refused to let her go. Above her, in the distance, she noticed a small pallid moon. “Your mom’s still asleep.” the voice went on. Her toes touched supple, silky smooth sand. As she straightened herself, she noticed a thin white sandbank in the distance. A single, black silhouette stood there, gazing right at her. She wrenched and pulled against the gooey waters, tearing herself out one step at a time. “We should let her sleep a little longer. She’s very tired.” The sand soon rasped at her knees and she could touch it with her fingertips – barely holding her face above the water. “We could go on a walk, squirt. Just you and me.” It felt like she had been struggling for an eternity but, gradually, the water softened. Soon, it felt like ink, rippling against her pale skin – yet leaving it unstained. “Weather’s nice, and I could swear I heard some frogs by the pond. The little fellas sounded like they were having a good time.” Lucie’s pale nightgown flowed around her like a procession of ghastly jellyfishes as her dazed eyes tried to make out the silhouette that stood closer and closer. Finally, she rose to her feet, and walked out of the dark waters, walking barefooted on the glittering sand. There was a flash of blue, and a hand with wrists adorned with jewellery she had only ever seen on her mother stretched out towards her before she could even look up to the face. “So, you comin’?”

Without a word, she took the hand in her own, much smaller one. White light flashed before her eyes, and she gasped for air.

She woke up to the feeling of cold wind against her face, and cold metal on the wrist where the ghost had held her hand. Batting her eyes open with a deep sense of confusion, she looked up to see Málmr’s masked face.

“Mountain…?” she called, softly. Weakly lifting her arm, she noticed a single, silver handcuff locked around her wrist. What was that?