Chapter 16: Andromeda

“I think this is the place,” said Andromeda’s mother, adjusting her satchel.

They were at yet another medic, the next one on the ridiculous list Andromeda’s mother had compiled. This one was surprisingly far from any nearby village, the small cottage isolated deep along a lonely trail. The week has passed with visits all over the coast, despite the chilling news of the massacre in Aldebaran and the discovery of the dangerous element. Andromeda had heard whispers of the strange thing, about it draining people of their Gift. She shivered at the thought—she could never imagine not being able to breath underwater.

She followed her mother up the worn dirt path, not bothering to talk her out of her mission—she gave up on that a while ago. Andromeda’s main focus now was to finish these visits as quickly as possible. She had low hopes that this particular medic could do anything.

Her mother’s knuckles hit the wooden door twice as Andromeda’s eyes wandered. It was an old, mossy building that had obviously been around for some time. Flower and herb beds lined the front and continued to the back, some of them empty, having been plucked. A small well was half hidden in the back, a tiny bucket hanging in the middle.

A head popped out from behind the door. Compact, round glasses swung from the old man’s neck, and his thin, wild white hair stuck up in all directions. His clothes were rumpled and covered in various stains.

“Yes, yes, come in,” he rasped, waving a hand inside. Andromeda hesitated as her mother promptly followed the short man, reluctantly trailing behind as her mum shot her a look over her shoulder. The bright sunlight was shut out, and her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim room. She quickly moved out of the way of the low-hanging plants, the thick smell of dirt and smoke filling her nose. A cauldron seeping with the smoke sat in the middle, a green mixture boiling within it.

Andromeda leaned towards her mother. “Where did you possibly find this medic?” she whispered.

“I’ve been told he’s wonderful at strange ailments.”

“We’ve traveled this far for a witch doctor?”

“He is not a witch doctor, Andie.”

Could’ve fooled me.

“Come, sit here,” called the old man, sitting on a flat cushion on the ground and gesturing to the spaces in front of him. After settling, he clasped his hands together, a grin spreading across his face.

“How can I help you today? Are you looking for a serum? Perhaps you have a rash you can’t identify? Or you are having trouble with your female cycles? I have countless remedies for that.”

Andromeda’s eyes widened and she blushed a deep pink. Her mother answered with amusement.

“No, sir. Thank you. We are here to talk about a very peculiar…situation.”

The man’s eyes brightened. “Do tell.”

“My daughter has been experiencing dreamlike trances as of late, and we can’t seem to figure out why or how to stop them. They occur randomly, and she can’t be forcibly woken up from them. She just springs awake whenever she does. We’ve seen many medics, and even Healers before you, but no one has been able to treat it or even explain it yet.”

“Fascinating,” said the man, looking over to Andromeda. She grew uncomfortable as he studied her, reflexively crossing her arms over her stomach. “When did this start?”

“It has been about a month now,” she responded.

“When was the last time it happened?”

“When we were traveling here, actually,” said her mother. “Just slumped in the carriage. I’m grateful she wasn’t on a horse.”

Andromeda nodded lightly. That one had been shorter, leaving only fleeting images instead of a solid event. Nothing else had followed up on the war dream, to her own frustration.

“Hmm,” murmured the man. “And how old are you?”

“Nineteen.” Her birthday had passed a few months before.

The man hummed again and quickly got up, rummaging around for certain things.

“Do you think you could help?” said her mother hopefully, watching him scurry around.

“I’ve never heard of anything like this, but I think I know how to combat it.”

Her mother glanced at Andromeda with a smile. They watched the small man warily as he grabbed handfuls of vials off his shelf.

“Let’s see, some of this should help. I should probably throw in the newts as well. Now where is my enchantment book…”

Andromeda bunched her eyebrows. “Excuse me, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you learn your practice?”

“If you are inquiring about apprenticeship, well it’s safe to say I never did one, my dear. I follow the ways of my family. We are very skilled in the natural potency of medicine.”

“A witch doctor, I knew it,” muttered Andromeda. She stood up from her spot, dusting off her clothes. She straightened her blouse, held under her tan trousers. “Thank you, sir, but I won’t be needing your…assistance.”

“Andie, wait—”

Andromeda ignored her mother and spun around, leaving the dim workshop. She stormed out into midday, her eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. Marching down the path, she was halfway from the house before her mother caught up to her.

“Andromeda! How could you just leave like that?” she exclaimed, grabbing her arm and pulling her around.

“Mum, you cannot be serious. That man is in no way fit to treat anyone! Besides, the chances of him knowing anything about this are next to nothing. You’ve dragged me all around the city to different Healers and medics, none of them being able to treat me, yet you still can’t accept the fact that whatever I have obviously can’t be fixed with some simple elixir! We should be trying to figure out what these dreams are, not trying to suppress them!”

She ended with her voice raised, tears threatening to spill. She was tired, tired from the travels and people gawking and prodding at her. Tired of the pitying glances and the isolation she felt, even from her own mother.

“Andie, listen, we’ll figure this out, don’t worry. Maybe—”

“No, Mum, no more. I want to go home. I’ve had enough.”

Andromeda spun around and continued down the path, her fury mixed with desperation. She needed to get away before she said something she truly regretted. Retracing her steps, she found herself back on the main road. It was desolate and silent as she emerged through the tree line, and she began to stride down the side of the road. The sun filtered through the bordering trees, leaving shadows drawn onto the dusty path. She could hear her mother quickly catching up, her steps rapid, but Andromeda kept walking and stayed quiet.

They walked like that, in silence, for the better part of their journey, making their way to their carriage in the small village nearby. Her mother stayed a few steps behind. It wasn’t until Andromeda could hear the village buzz that a horse rode past in the opposite direction, a woman holding the reins and a parcel in her hands.

Rounding the bend, the village opened up, small and clustered together with squat, small buildings with dark roofs and stone walls. The wide road narrowed as it entered the town, branching off and out of view. Andromeda faltered in her step, trying to remember where the carriage service had been.

“Come,” her mother said quietly, taking the crook of her elbow gently and guiding her forward. Andromeda stayed quiet but reluctantly let her, her anger from before slowly subsiding, and a feeling of her usual dejection replacing it. Every one of her recent visits to the medics had been the same, none of them offering any help or guidance, just as she had suspected.

What am I supposed to do now?

The pair walked deeper into the town, entering its cramped market stationed near the center. Chatter filled Andromeda’s ears. Vendors stood in their shops as buyers mingled around, stands set up to bring a relief of shade.

“Mum,” Andromeda finally whispered, brushing back a strand of hair that had escaped from her ribbon. “What are we doing here? I might collapse, remember?”

Her mother gave her a small smile in response. She led her to a particularly large building to the left, its doors thrown open. A scent of fresh bread and a tangy sweetness escaped from it, as well as a hot blast of oven heat as they stepped inside.

It was a bakery, and a seemingly popular one. Several people were huddled inside, many fanning themselves at the open furnaces at the back. Breads and rolls and all flavors of pastries were lined up at the front, the steam still rising from some. A few hurried men and women bustled around, aprons tied back and faces pink with exhaustion.

Andromeda waited with her mother, watching the busy place with curiosity. Sweat began to form on her neck, and she wiped it away with her sleeve.

“How can I help you ladies?” one of the bakers called, her voice light as she waved to them. Her mother stepped forward, Andromeda following.

“Just two of your strawberry pastries, please.”

The woman nodded and set to grab the items. After paying the credits, Andromeda stepped back outside, leaving the stifling heat with a warm pastry in her hands.

“It’s a wonder how they work in there all day,” her mother remarked as Andromeda took a bite out of the confection. The strawberry filling was warm and sweet, paired with the crispy dough.

“I can’t imagine,” she replied, looking at her mother. She smiled again and took a bite from her own sweet, linking her arm with Andromeda’s again as they continued down the road.

“It’s a wonderful pastry, though,” her mother said. “The carriages should be just past—”

“Protect yourself! Protect yourself from the devious element out to capture your precious Gift!”

Andromeda jumped at the shrill voice as an old man popped up from behind them, frantically waving a tarot card in their faces. He was old and scrawny, hunched over with a cloudy grey eye.

Her mother immediately began to step away. “No thank you, sir, we’ll be on our—”

“Don’t you want to protect your lovely daughter, madam? There is a deadly element out there, poised to come for you all!” The man’s wails increased as he stepped closer, waving his cards and sticking a hand into his thick overcoat. “Protect yourself!”

“Come, Andie. Now,” her mother whispered. With a frantic jerk of her arm, Andromeda quickly hurried away with her, stealing one last glance at the yelling man, who was trying to stumble after them.

Is he going to be all right?

Her mother let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing. “We’ll be home soon, love,” she murmured, idly patting Andromeda’s arm.

She nodded, the pastry in her hand now strangely cold. The man’s wails seemed in echo in her ears as they continued back to the carriages.