Wild Onion and Feverfew

Episode 4 - The World Stone

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Tasol looked across the table. It was nice to see his sister, even in these circumstances. He’d wished things had been different for them, for her, but reality was a wet blanket at times, neither comforting nor desirable, and now his mistakes were being visited upon her.

“Wild onion? And is that feverfew I taste?” she asked.

Tasol nodded as he looked up, placing his spoon on the table and reaching for his tea.

“Mother’s favorite,” she said. “You always were a mama’s boy.” A smile creased her face for the first time since she’d arrived, for the first time in–well, Tasol honestly couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen even the hint of a smile on Myra’s face. It had been hard years, but then still seemed like yesterday when the times were happier, when their parents were both around. But those days were gone.

“I always liked the feverfew,” Tasol said, a smile now touching his lips too. “Calms me down, gets me thinking straight.” He sipped his tea, looking over the rim to Myra. “Thanks for coming. Letting me know.”

She nodded, lifting her mother’s tea cup to her mouth, sipping the wild sage tea. Tasol noticed that Myra’s hands were shaking ever so slightly.

“Myra, are you ok?” he asked, leaning forward and placing his hand gently on hers. Her eyes turned away as he spoke, glassy with moisture. “What is it? I know you, I know that look.”

“It’s Getty,” she said, turning her eyes back to Tasol once again. “He was hell-bent on turning you over to them, and I told him I’d leave him if he did. But he wouldn’t listen. I kept pleading with him, but the bounty they were floating was too much for him to ignore. He’d made up his mind that…”

“That the bounty was worth more to him than my life,” Tasol said. Myra nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

This was a story that was told over and over again in Waterfell. That’s why people from the slums never got ahead. The bounties were never enough to be truly life changing. Just enough to pay some debts, and the ones from the slums who earned the bounties still stayed in the slums.

“I tried to stop him, I really did,” she said, her confidence returning. “I tried with words as mother always told us to, but when the words failed.” She took another sip of tea, but her hands still shaking as she sat her mother’s tea cup on the table. “But, as father was quick to remind us–when words fail, it is time for action. So, I grabbed Getty as he was leaving, but he turned, pushing me to the ground.” She looked away, the tears again streaking her face, reflecting the firelight. “He kicked me, and said that I was trash and needed to learn to stay in my place. It broke my heart, Tasol, he broke my heart. I swelled with anger, and before I knew it I had swept his legs like father taught us and,” she paused and started weeping, looking down at her hands. For the first time, Tasol saw blood on the sleeves of her white tunic. “I just hit him with the cast iron skillet and kept hitting him and hitting him until–” She stopped her story, looking at Tasol. “I don’t know what came over me, but I can’t go back there, ever.”

Tasol reached out, taking his sister’s hands and speaking to her softly, like he’d done when they were younger, happier. He lifted her chin until their eyes meet. In the past, he’d always had a steadying influence on her, just as it did now. “Myra, it’s ok. What’s done is done. Getty never deserved you–that was part of my problem with you marrying him. But like always, you did what needed to be done. You did it for mother because I wasn’t there for you. You were stronger than me, and I just ran when father passed. I’ve been running ever since, but you–you survived, and now it’s my turn to step up and be the big brother. I won't let anything happen to you, ever.”

“But I killed him, Tasol. Getty’s dead, and they’ll know I did it. They’ll be looking for me.”

“Perhaps, but don’t forget he’s a nothing in Bannion, a sewer rat. We both know the powers in Bannion are completely fine letting the scum of the city off each other. It’s less water needs, less food, more of everything for them.” She took a deep breath, nodding her head in agreement. Tasol raised his hand, wiping the tears from her eyes, and ladled more soup into her bowl. “Eat, the feverfew will calm you. You can stay here. You are my sister, and I’ll make sure no one finds you.”

Just as he finished, the little bell over the fireplace let out another series of small dings and Tasol’s eyes slowly, reluctantly moved up to the bell. Myra’s eyes following suit.

“What’s that?” she asked, looking from the bell back to her brother.

“Early warning sign,” Tasol said, lowering his head. “Someone’s coming. Looks like this night of excitement’s not quite over yet.” He hadn’t expected it to ring again this evening, but the fact remained that he’d made a serious mistake with Saul earlier in the day, and now he worried not only about his own tracks, but Myra’s.

“I covered my tracks,” she said, almost as if reading her brother’s mind. “There’s no way anyone followed me.”

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