The Foal in the Church
The foal sways its head from side to side, as if worried about something in the room.
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The old church is unsettling, but you’re not about to abandon the foal.
Besides, you’re not a helpless maiden anymore. You’ve grown to be a strong fighter.
The foal is looking increasingly impatient. It sways its head from side to side, as if worried about something in the room.
There’s no time to lose. You sprint to the church door and try the handle. It’s locked, as expected. But it’s easy to pick the lock, and the door swings free with a creak.
You cough at the dust clouds coming out of the church. You frown at the cobwebs. No, you’re not afraid of spiders, but you hate them.
What’s more unnerving, however, is that the church is dimly lit, not completely drenched in darkness like you would expect of a hall with no windows. You can’t see any lanterns, lamps, lightbulbs, or the like, but you decide not to dwell on this oddity. You will save the foal first.
Just as you turn towards the room where the young horse should be, you hear a thud of footsteps.
Instinctively, you freeze.
The footsteps continue thudding. Clearly, someone–or something–is coming down the stairs, but you’re behind the stairwell so you can’t see them yet. You hold your breath and slink towards the foal’s room. But just when you lay your hand on the doorknob, you hear a low voice:
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
In a moment, an old woman with a purple hood appears at your shoulder. She continues, “The foal is locked up in that room for good reason. He tries to get visitors’ attention with that blue lamp. We gave him that lamp out of mercy, so that he didn’t have to live in the dark.”
“But what is the foal guilty of to deserve such treatment?” you cut in.
The old woman smirks and folds her arms over her chest. A star-shaped amulet dangles from her neck. It looks familiar…so familiar that it’s almost painful, yet you just can’t remember where you’ve seen it before. The old woman answers, “Murder. This young creature has killed many innocents over the past year.”
You glower, and you stand taller to make yourself look more commanding. “Why should I believe you over the foal?”
The woman lifts her eyebrows, and laughs raucously, making you think of a ghoul. “Lass, you always tend to trust animals more than humans, eh?”
You narrow your eyes at her. “Animals are almost always more trustworthy. And don’t talk like you know me. You’re a stranger.”
A smug smile stretches across her face. “Is that so? Does the name Asha Bluebell sound familiar to you?”
A gasp escapes your throat. Once again, your eyes dart to her amulet. In a much softer voice, you ask, “Are you really Asha?”
The old woman lifts her chin. “Just because I’m no longer young and beautiful doesn’t mean I’m not Asha anymore. And did you think that I would never seek you out? That you could just flee with magic and run from the world you came from?”
You start to hyperventilate as the repressed memories come flooding back, each as agonizing as the last.
