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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Clovers End - 8. Frustration
James Pov
I have to duck my head as she leads us through a low hanging archway into a half circled alcove. The space is minimal but she seems to have managed to squeeze in a very homely living room. A cast iron kettle hangs suspended by a pothook over an unlit furnace. Presumably a canapé or on closer inspection a davenport, due to the heavily upholstered aesthetic, squashes into an uncomfortable corner. At the other end lays parchments of papers strewn over a work station. Just above said station a long shelf carrying any number of odd trinkets fixes itself half heartedly to the wall.
She waddles over to the shelves and slides open a box pulling out two rocks. She haunches over the hearth and tries to light a mess of dried foliage, elegantly strewn over a few logs but her limbs tremble unintentionally from old age. I stand up offering some assistance.
“Thank you child. It's been awhile since a big strong man assisted Mama Rosario,'' she says as she runs her fingers along the dips and grooves of my arm, caressing it in admiration.
"Eew.” I mutter under my breath as the fire roars to life. Behind me, I can feel Alex and Rachel break out into a silent fit of laughter.
“She may be old but Mama can still hear you child.” she says, “Old people have needs too. She have you know that she was a dish back in her day, still is, infact today Mama Rosario may even be able to satisfy a hungry tribe of men, if she wanted too. “
She pouts her thinned lips, places one hand on her cheek and the other elegantly on her hip. Her anachronistic attire ruffles as she moves. She winks and blows a sloppy kiss in my direction, proceeding to break into a violent coughing fit.
“Anyway, Mama is gonna get us some cups for tea.“ she exists the room.
“Hey James, it looks like you’ve got yourself an admirer ,” Alex chuckles, “You should give her a kiss.” he nudges me playfully.
“Old people are so cute, I’d love to be like her one day.” Rachel comments.
“Agreed.” He Affirms.
“Well I'm glad you're enjoying this.” I say partially annoyed, adding a hint of amusement. As He laughs, I can't help but notice how beautiful he looks so carefree in this moment. I watch attentively, trying to capture every second of every minute, observing the way the light of the flickering flame dances across his face, highlighting his features. The cute dimples skilfully placed along the simple rosiness embedded in his cheeks, to the warmth in his eyes as he looks at me and asks, “Is everything alright?”.
“Everything is perfect.”, I mumble in awe.
His smile recedes into incertitude. The warmth in those glass pools of blazen brown, reflects a coppery concern. He looks me over as though he is about to say something, but the words get caught in his throat.
“Hehehe, now look at yall. Mama gonna make you a mean cup a tea. You look famished.”
She grabs a cloth, removes the kettle from the hook and pours the steamy liquid into three different cups. She shakily hands one to each of us.
I peer into the glass. It's a vibrant yellow. An odd colour for tea. Regardless, I lift it to my lips and take a deep languorous sip, quelling my thirst. It’s strangely floral in nature, not overwhelmingly pungent. I didn't expect it to be so delicate. It fills me with an indescribable adulation or should I say, a serene comfort. It's amazing.
“This is incredible Mama Rosario.” says Alex.
“Thank you, child.” She smiles proudly.
“I've never had anything like this before. Where did you get it from?“ He politely asks.
“Oh no, no child. Mama made it. White peony tea, about the only thing she can get from these blasted woods.”
“Sorry, Miss Rosario. Do you think you could,“ Rachel stares suggestively.
“OH, Yes!! Sorry child. She almost forgot. Mama tends to do that from time to time. So what is it that you wanted to discuss dear?“ she listens attentively.
“I think they're back.“ Rachel says quietly.
“You don't mean those green cloaked scoundrels?” says an astonished Mama Rosario.
“Did you say green cloaked?” Alex's face flurries in recognition.
“Yes, child what about them?” Mama Rosario presses, her eyebrows pinch tightly together.
“The day James and I met, a guy in a green cloak shot some kind of dart at him. I managed to dislodge it but there was and odd silvery substance oozing out the tip. “he recalls.
“Wolfsbane." I mutter, “That explains my reduced healing.“
“I don't think I really understand. Who are these people and what do they want?” says Alex curiously.
“They call themselves The Clover, probably to spite us. As far as we know they're an elite organisation that hunts the supernatural for sport. We've never known them to have any ulterior motive. At least that's what we could gather from last time, anyway.” Rachel uncomfortably crosses her arms.
“Last time?” Alex questions, possibly noticing the change in the atmosphere of the room.
“When your mother, was here child.“ Mama Rosario says lightly.
“Okay, Can you please stop talking in riddle. What aren't you guys telling me?”, Alex pleas, getting visibly more and more upset, “It’s like I'm always so close to finding the answer but every time there is just this invisible wall keeping it out my grasp. “He tightens his grip in frustration, exposing the whites of his knuckles.
A hushed silence falls across the room. After he composes himself, he looks around guiltily. His face reddens from embarrassment, “I’m sorry that was uncalled for.”
I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Mama Rosario is the first to speak, “No. You're right. Very well child, let me start from the beginning.”
Alex Pov
"The beginning?", I question.
"Yes child. It would be impossible for Mama Rosario to tell you what you want to hear without her starting from the beginning." she states firmly, "Mama's going to need you all to come close and lock hands. Y'all mustn't break the circle till the incantation is over. Can you promise Mama that?".
We nod in unison.
James interjects, "But why exactly are we doing this ?"
"Hush child. Mama needs to focus. You'll see. This is the easiest way." she asserts.
She connects her hands to ours and gives us a reassuring nod to make sure we're ready. She closes her eyes and opens them suddenly. A strange aura emanates from her iris spilling outwards in lucid shades of green. She begins to mumble under her breath, her voice now an inhumane cacophony of ancient tongues, increasing in timbre, roaring in bass. I can almost make out the distinctive sound of drums beating harmonically in the background almost if they're responding to her ancient call.
The air gets thicker and more intense. I can feel it laced heavily with spiritual energy. A purple smog seeps out the cracks in the walls undulating to the rhythm of her voice. It swirls vehemently, coating everything in a violet haze, obscuring my vision. James seems to sense my unease and slides his hand along mine, intertwining our fingers. His hands are rough yet gentle at the same time, large in my own but somehow they seem to interlock perfectly.
The smoke rises in jubilation and plunges downwards, forcibly, almost knocking me of my feet but I stand firm. As it hit the grounds it disperses in rippling waves, sizzling, then going silent along with Mama Rosario's chanting and distant beat of the drum. We're no longer in the cramped living room.
We now stand in a transient space. It's dark but a couple of fireflies like creatures flutter about the room offering some illumination. It's so surreal. Looming above stretches a high dome like structure, painted with a clear night sky. The artificial stars playfully wink at one another, shimmering silver and gold light.
"Is that real?" inquires Rachel, mesmerized by synchronized blinking.
"Yes it is, Dear." says Mama Rosario, smiling her toothless smile.
"Mama Rosario. Forgive me but this doesn't look like the night sky.", interjects James.
"That's because it ain't child, do you see the stars and constellations? They ain't the same as ours," she cackles.
"What do mean Mama Rosario?", I ask.
"Well back when I was a chicken spring. The Elder before me said it's the universe as the creators saw it. Back when everything first came into existence. It's preserved here unchanging, unmoving not affected by our world.” she reminisces.
"So what you're telling me is that we're looking at a version of the universe that doesn't exist anymore?" I say as confusion takes me.
"Exactly!" Mama beams.
"Not just any universe." Rachel whispers gesturing to a glittering cluster. “See those group of stars. That's Andromedus. These stars only existed during our planet's early years."
"Cool!" I exclaim." So why bring us here out of all places."
"That's easy. This is the Hall of Memories." she states.
She mutters under her breath again. This time the floor beneath us vibrates, changing from a smoking opaque to a subdued translucent window. It begins to paint a picture in it's clarity. From high above we safely watch an arduous mountain sprout violently upwards, dotting itself with trees and various other plants, giving rise to a thickly wooded forest.
A woman, gentle but fierce graces the treacherous path down the mountain side. Birds of every shape and colour flutter about her, animals seemingly frolic up to her, hailing in this ethereal entity’s emergence.
"Who is she, Mama Rosario ?" I ask, feeling a kindred connection tugging at my being.
"Why child, she is none other than the Primordial Goddess of Nature. She is known by her many names such as Leto, Morrighan, Artemis or Gaia to name a few. We know her as Alakatasia, the Goddess of Wolves." She informs.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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