Scars of the Earth

and over that she’d been taught, but still the fear pricked at her heart. Like a well-worn textbook, she flipped through the pages of her mind. Had she learned anything at all about how to stop the leap?

Of course, it’s not in the curriculum. I’m probably the only Healer in the history of the world to ever think about stopping mid-leap. Even though she wasn’t yet on the other side, she knew, somehow, that she wasn’t strong enough to deal with this Scar. Whatever trauma this poor soul had gone through was too much for her to bear. How was she supposed to set them free if she was hyperventilating before she’d even seen anything? As much as she hated the feeling of blindness that came before she entered a Scar, she knew that the blackness was preferable to what you see when the memory unfolds before you.

Why did Madgie have such confidence in her? She’d failed every single test. She shouldn’t be allowed to heal. Of course, if the world wasn’t so messed up, she wouldn’t be healing at all.

She could feel the horrible scene materializing around her.

Her body began to crumble; the weight of this memory too much for one set of novice shoulders. The fear, the hate, the burning evil desire.

I’m not a Healer. I’m not strong enough; I never have been.

Her vision began to blur around the edges. Just when she was about to succumb to the darkness, she found herself standing in a dimly lit hallway. The first thing she noticed was the awful stench. Hot, wet, rot. Amanda quickly covered her face to breathe through her sleeve.

Tiptoeing down the sticky hallway, she started to memorize her surroundings. The webbing cracks in the plaster, the dark mold that clung to the walls, stretching upward from behind decaying baseboards.

Who lives here?

Amanda was used to landing in front of the spirit in need of help, not an empty hallway. She held her breath as she began her silent search, hoping that would keep the smell at bay. It did little. Even without breathing, the stench seemed to creep inside her every pore, contaminating her blood. All of the curriculum she’d had drilled into her brain wouldn’t help her here. This wasn’t a normal Scar. She realized who lived here was the wrong question, what lived here would be a better one. The unbearable fear and the living stink could only mean one thing.

A demon is here, a strong one. Her legs froze in place as she realized the enormity of the situation.

A leach-demon was there, living off this Scar, sucking the fear and life out of this trapped soul. Though it was an extremely rare occurrence, she’d been taught what to do if you sensed a demon in a Scar — leave. She couldn’t, not while knowing the demon would stay here, feasting on this spirit’s nightmares, until either someone made it leave or the spirit faded into nonexistence.

A loud crash rang out in the unseen room to her right. She leapt back and quickly clasped a sweaty palm over her shrieking mouth. Nothing can hurt you, calm down! she chastised herself.

Turning toward the noise, she cloaked herself with a quick spell. Closing her eyes tightly, she pressed her body into the nearest wall, attempting to be one with it. Her heart and mind still rattled with fear, so it took longer than it should have, but she managed to slip through. Calm down, I’m a Healer. I repair the world. I free spirits. I… pass out on a regular basis. I need a new mantra. The old ones aren’t helping at all.

Surfacing on the other side of the wall, she put on the usual cloak, but both people in the room were looking right at her. She guessed the scream hadn’t helped her in the subtlety department.

One of the two people was an overweight man in his forties. It was difficult to pinpoint an exact age due to the dark rings of drug use apparent beneath his black eyes. They both shook their heads and looked away from her. He stood at the end of the bed with one leg in a pair of worn-out sweat pants. He stumbled clumsily as he attempted to get its twin into the other hole.

Amanda looked away quickly, tears stinging her eyes. She’d witnessed scenes like this before and didn’t need to take in all of the terrible details. The man managed to get his pants back on and started across the room.

“I don’t want to hear a word, not a word,” the man said. He didn’t need to add an ‘or else’, not anymore.

If he were more than a mere memory, I would kill him slowly. Tear off all his favorite parts and then leave him for the rats. Amanda uncloaked herself and made her way to the bed and the little girl lying upon it, bruised and silently crying.

She couldn’t be more than seven, Amanda thought studying the child. The little girl was dirty and covered in rags. Her face was buried in an old pillow, making her light brown curls, which had tangled themselves into a messy halo around her head, the only thing Amanda could see.

“What’s your name?” she asked softly.

The girl kept her face in the safety of the pillow and shook her frail head back and forth.

“Don’t worry, he can’t hear me,” she reassured.

The girl’s delicate shoulders straightened, and Amanda had to strain her ears to listen to the tiny voice, which sounded like it hadn’t been used for a long time.

“Why can’t he hear you?” she asked. Before Amanda could answer the girl’s blank face turned up in recognition. “Wait! Are you my guardian angel?”

Amanda was taken by surprise. Usually the souls trapped in Scars had gone through so much they no longer believed in anything, let alone angels.

“In a way, I am. How did you know?” Amanda asked.

The girl’s trembling hands lowered to her lap and took the filthy pillow along with them. She looked up and squinted as though the light hurt her haunting light blue eyes. They were unfocused and although the child was face to face with her, she seemed to be gazing off into an unseen world.

Her eyes are too light. She’s blind.

“You walked through the wall. I heard you on the other side of it then you were right there,” she said, pointing a tiny finger at the exact spot Amanda had entered. “And there’s no opening, so you must be magic.” Anticipation blossomed across her face as she continued. “I’ve heard about magic. It can save you from bad people or sometimes grant wishes. I’ve tried to use it before, on my door, to keep out people who want to hurt me. Mine never worked, but yours does. So you must be an angel,” the child concluded.

Amanda thought of the little blind girl standing in the doorway, waving her thin arms and chanting an incantation, a spell of protection. She wished the spells had worked, but she knew better.

I wouldn’t be here if her spells had protected her from evil.

This young girl had been hurt so badly her soul had been torn away from its rightful place inside her body. She was trapped in her past, trapped by the man who had corrupted her soul, and maybe she’d died here. Perhaps he’d murdered her in the end. But she wasn’t here in this Scar because of her death. She was here because of her life.

Flipping back to her first lesson at the Hovel, she recanted, “Scars are left when a spirit cannot move on from a singular event.”

This curly haired girl may have lived to seventy or she could still be alive today, just a shell of a human being walking and talking. But her spirit had never left this moment, this room, this place.

Amanda pushed away the painful thoughts before they overcame her. “Well, I wouldn’t call myself an angel, but I do know magic and I am here to help you.” She gently placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder, making the child flinch away reflexively. “Your name, do you remember your name?” she asked.

“Kaedin, my name is Kaedin,” she whispered.

“Wow, that’s a beautiful name. Did you know that your name means spirit?”

Kaedin shook her head.

“Must mean you have a lot in you. My name is Amanda.” She held out her hand in a greeting before dropping it quickly, the girl couldn’t see it and therefore couldn’t shake it. Amanda looked around the room. It was easier to counsel when you knew the year. She couldn’t tell much by the furniture or the rags thrown on Kaedin but noticed a paper lying on the table. It was dated ten years ago. Kaedin would be about her age, if she was still alive.

Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind and went through her usual checklist, although she knew this would be anything but routine. Counseling was sure to be different with the leach demon clinging to the Scar so strongly, but she couldn’t guess how as all she was taught about her current situation was to not be in it. Amanda