1. Thalia

ONE

THALIA

T he sunlight was bright and sharp and... glorious.

Thalia stepped out of the front door of her family's cottage and inhaled deeply, allowing her lungs to fill with the pure morning air that blessed the Wildwoods.

For a moment, she envisioned herself running across the meadow that lay beyond the garden of her family home.

But then there came the familiar sound of a hacking cough that reverberated throughout the house. Thalia turned, anguish twisting painfully in her stomach, and walked back into the cottage. It was warm and comfortable, the rooms large and fragrant from the herbs and flowers she had strung up throughout the cottage.

She walked more quickly as the volume of the coughing increased, and by the time she rounded the corner into the living room, her father was bent over double, blood and spittle flying from his mouth.

"Father!" she cried and helped him to stand. She led him to the bed they had made in the living room when his health prevented him from walking up the stairs to the bedroom he had shared with Thalia's mother when she was alive.

On the bed, Evanth, Thalia's father, was better able to breathe.

While Evanth's coughing slowed, and then stopped, Thalia hurried into the kitchen to heat the herbal tincture she had concocted for her father when the illness began.

She also heated the herbal solution in the large cast-iron pot that would go into the poultice that she wrapped around his chest every night.

The poultice and the tincture worked hand-in-hand with one another to slow the spread of the illness through Evanth Hafeld's body. It had taken Thalia months to come up with a suitable recipe for both, and by the time she had figured out what exactly ailed her father, he had already succumbed to the worst stages of the illness.

Thalia had always known that whatever she did wouldn't stave off the illness for eternity. But she hoped she could help alleviate her father's pain and bring him some comfort.

Now, she hurried back to the living room and fed him the tincture which he drank gratefully before drifting off to sleep.

Once Thalia was sure he was asleep and warmly covered, she began her chores.

Cleaning the cottage wasn't a task she relished. She would much rather be outside, tending the large garden which was her pride and joy.

But she also knew her father's illness demanded a clean home, and she couldn't focus on her herbal recipes if her home was dusty.

So now, starting on the top floor of the house, she went through each room methodically with a broom, duster, and mop. She cleaned every day, so it didn't take her long to get through her work.

By the time she reached the ground floor, her small, lithe frame ached from the exertion, and she paused for a second to inhale deeply.

After she finished cleaning, she went into the kitchen again to re-soak the fabric of the poultice in the herbal concoction.

Then, while the fabric was soaking, she skinned a rabbit for dinner and began quickly chopping carrots, garlic, and celery.

She simmered the vegetables in pig fat and then put in meat along with leftover grain. Thalia also added a handful of herbs and spices that she had grown herself to make the food tastier.

While the food cooked over the fire, she pulled the fabric out of the herbal water. It was warm and soggy, and Thalia grimaced as she walked with it into the living room.

Evanth hated putting the poultice on every afternoon, and Thalia hated the process of forcing him to do it. Evanth's chest was where most of his pain was located, and if Thalia wasn't completely gentle, she could hurt him badly.

"Father?"

She woke him slowly. He groaned as he sat up, his arms wrapped around his chest. "I know you don't like this," Thalia sat on the bed next to him. "But we have to do it."

"I know, darling." He smiled fondly at her, even as his face was twisted with pain. "I know."

She shuddered with grief as she helped him out of his sweater and tunic and peeled off yesterday's poultice.

Her father had once been the most vital of men. Sometimes she couldn't quite believe how much he had changed.

Two years ago, Evanth was still working. He had been a master of his trade and made such a good living that now, two years later, neither of them had to work.

Aside from working, Evanth had also built on to the cottage they lived in. When they first moved in, it had been a two-room hovel.

Evanth had also, just before the illness put him down, built Thalia's workroom which was attached to the house.

Thalia moved as quickly as possible and wrapped the new poultice several times around her father's chest.

Then she grabbed the clean clothing she had brought from upstairs and helped him into it before he could get too cold.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Evanth said. Thalia was happy to hear that his voice sounded clearer.

She turned and smiled warmly at him.

"I just hope it helps," she said.

Evanth didn't reply as Thalia threw away the old poultice and placed the soiled shirt and jumper in a bag in the kitchen.

She sighed. She'd have to do more washing tomorrow or her father would not have clean clothes. Then, after spooning some food into plates for both of them, she went back to the living room.

They ate in silence, sitting on the bed together. It was only after Thalia had cleared away the plates and gone back to her father's side that he spoke.

"I worry, girl, about what you're going to do when I'm gone. It won't be long now. How will you take care of yourself? And this place?"

Thalia sat and stared blankly at the wall opposite her.

She couldn't imagine a world without her father vibrant and alive in it. She had been caring for him since her mother died when she was a child, and the thought of having that responsibility taken from her left her almost bereft.

You'll be fine. It isn't as though this is what you want with your life forever.

It was true that Thalia imagined a bigger life for herself. But for now, this life where she took care of her father would do. She wouldn't trade it for anything.

When she looked at her father to reassure him, to make him feel better, she saw he was asleep.

It was close to dusk when Thalia finally stepped out into the gardens that surrounded the cottage. A blend of herbs and flowers, the gardens were lush and beautiful.

She inhaled the bitter, tangy scents as she walked down the pathway between the expansive herb garden she had started several years earlier.

You finally get to be happy here.

The voice in her head was selfish and snarky. But she knew it was true as she kicked off her slippers. After a hard day's work in the house, being outside was the only place she could be happy.

It was also the only place she could be her true self.

She allowed tendrils of her magic, light and brilliant, to escape from her fingertips as she inspected each plant.

The magic – her magic – was hesitant at first. It was so seldom that she let it loose, but today she couldn't contain it.

Thalia had learned early on in her life that she wasn't an ordinary human. She had learned –from her mother before she died– that she was a sorceress with the ability to grow food and flowers.

In truth, Thalia should have gone to the academy that taught all young sorcerers when she came of age. But then her mother had died, and her father had been crippled by grief.

If she had insisted on going, her father would've gladly let her go. Being trained at the Academy had been her mother's wish, after all.

But her father had become a shadow of himself, pathetic and broken without the woman he loved.

Thalia knew in her heart that she couldn't leave him.

Now, as she used her magic to urge the plants, vegetables, and flowers to grow, she wondered what her magic would have looked like had she been properly trained.

"What would my life have been like?" Thalia murmured to herself.

For a second, she could see a life where she was powerful. Where there was a man, though faceless, at her side. Where she was making a change to Wildwoods. Where she was using her magic to make sure everyone had food, water, and good health.

But then she shook the thoughts away. She was quite content with her life as it was now.

At the end of the day, she hadn't gone to the Academy. She had taken on a nobler task.

The task of looking after her father.

But he was right… There was a lot more to come.

Even if she didn't know it yet.