What Camelia saw, disturbed her.

The young woman who sat across her looked a lot different than how Camelia remembered her. The last time she had looked at her like this, was a few weeks ago. Then, her dark skin sparkled, just like the pearl necklace on her neck and the rubies on her ears.

Now she sat, back slouched with the weight of death, eyes sunken and a pale plague eating her flesh alive. White specks all around her body. The skin twitched constantly around the ravines riddling all over her flesh. The curse ate her alive and she had nothing to do but wait for the end, however far and painful it may be.

Looking at a mirror had never been so painful. Not once she was disgusted at the sight of herself. Now her face soured upon the sight, the smell of rotting flesh.

She sat there for a while as lifeless as a statue made of Marquina marble.

She could not feel her feet. The white rot had taken them days ago. Just like her right arm. Limbs failed to obey her, responding to her will only with a sizzling pain. Yet even though he passed away, her father was there to support her. Camelia gripped his cane as hard as she could with her left hand and pulled herself up.

He wouldn’t have wanted me to rot here. She thought. He would want me to live. To live for both of us.

The thought didn’t help at all. Even though she knew what her father wanted her to do, she had no strength to do it. With him dead, this house was no longer a home.

Her eyes watered and her legs shook as she tried to leave the bed and stand up for the first time in weeks. In her first step, she fell right next to her bed. Her legs refused to carry the dead woman she was.

Upon the sound of Camelia collapsing, the door to her chamber opened with haste.

“My lady!” Camelia heard a familiar voice as small steps rushed at her.

It was a boy, at most five years old. He had the food tray Levanir had been bringing for a while. The elder refused to let any maids see Camelia in her state and did everything in his power to prevent it.

But now, he had sent a boy. What is going on? She thought. What was occupying him?

The boy, however, didn’t think at all, unlike Camelia. She rushed at her right after leaving the tray on the ground.

“Stop!” Camelia shouted, with a strength that she thought would never return to her body. He can’t touch me, Camelia thought. No one can.

At the sight of her, the little boy froze, eyes wide open and mouth ajar. It was not just the scars that terrified him, it was her reaction.

“I’m sick.” Camelia had seen the boy with a maid before, neither of whose name she couldn’t remember. “Don’t touch me.” She picked up the cane again and sat on the ground with its help. “You may catch it.”

“I’m sorry.” The boy took a step back like a timid rat, his voice as small as his body. Camelia was almost as tall as him even though she was barely sitting straight.

“Wait,” Camelia begged, her weight on the cane. He was the first person she saw in weeks other than Levanir. She appreciated the gesture but the Elder never talked much and ever since… the incident. He didn’t talk at all.

“What is your name?”

The boy looked at his toes as hid his hands behind, his lips shut tightly.

“No need to be afraid. Elder sent you, right? Thank you for the food.”

“Vas. I’m Vas.”

“Nice to meet you, Vas. I am Camelia. Do you know why Elder sent you instead?”

“He was busy. I was playing in the kitchen.”

“And he picked you?” Camelia smiled. She felt better talking to the boy, even though the plague still devoured her. “What about your mother?”

The boy shut his mouth again.

Camelia struggled to stay sit as she gave him a look. One that told him to speak. She eventually leaned back onto the side of her bed, still sitting on the ground.

“She is not here.”

“Why?”

Did she leave before the incident? She thought. She couldn’t have left it after. The estate was on lockdown since then as far as Levanir had told. Was she one of those… Camelia thought a dreadful end.

“I don’t know.” The boy bowed his head so much that his little chin touched his chest. Camelia could almost see the back of his head.

“You look like you know it though.”

“But… I can’t say.”

“Did your mom tell you not to?”

Vas nodded in quick movements; his eyes opened wide with affirmation.

“Don’t worry. You can tell me. I can…” Something inside her chest stung as if she was stabbed and then she coughed a mouthful of blood on her hand. Her head dizzy and teeth bloody, she continued after catching her breath.“…help you find her.”

“Really?” The boy looked as if he couldn’t believe her. He is right to doubt. Camelia thought. Even she couldn’t believe herself.

“Yes. You can tell me.”

The boy thought it over for a while and then started crying. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to break it I was just looking for her mumma told me she would take care of it and not to tell anyone. Did she leave because I was bad?” The boy started to cry.

“Wait wait wait.” Camelia stopped the unintelligible rant the boy let out amidst tears and snot. “What did you break?”

“A little glass vial. I thought it had milk in it, but it was hot. It burnt my hand.”

Did an elder punish her in his stead? Camelia thought. Is that where she is? A grave?

“Did you touch it too?” The boy asked. “You look hurt.”

“I look…” Camelia realized the reason why the boy wasn’t afraid of the rot, or surprised. “Can I see your hand?” The kindness in Camelia’s voice left its place to the harshness of her impatience.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No,” Camelia replied, as certain as death. “No one will hurt you.”

“Mumma?”

“I will protect her too but first I must find her. Can you show me your hand?”

The boy silently obliged and showed his palm. It was white, rotting. A lot smaller than what Camelia had but still, it was the same. Unlike her, he wasn’t washed with the poison but instead was exposed just to a drop.

“Vas.” Camelia looked the boy right in the eye. “Where was it?”

“Old man’s chamber.”

“An Elder’s chamber?” Camelia took a deep breath as she shivered. One of the Elders… she thought. No, they couldn’t have.

“You haven’t seen your mother ever since?” Camelia asked again, the fury inside giving her power enough to straighten her back and lean onto the boy.

“Yes.”

“How long has it been?”

“I don’t know. I missed her a lot.” The boy thought for a while. “I slept outside that day. I was afraid she would beat me.”

“And you got out how?”

“I walked out of the door?” The boy raised a brow.

“I see. Do you know which elder?”

“No.”

“Was it the one who told you to come here? Was it his room?” Camelia didn’t want to think that it could be Levanir, but she had to ask.

“I don’t know.”

“I see.” Camelia rose with a new-found wrath and took a dark tulle veil from the wardrobe. The type that widows wore to funerals. It was not the time to mourn, however, the black cloth not only hid the faces of the mourners but also their weaknesses. She could not show any of it, not to her assailants.

“Stay here boy and eat. If someone other than me comes, hide in the wardrobe. You are not to show your face to anyone but me.” She took her silky gloves put them on after struggling for a while. “I will come back.”

“Will she come back too?” The boy asked but Camelia couldn’t answer.

Instead she left.