#old gem

Rue turned off their alarm – which had been going off for at least an hour now – and opened their windows, letting sun stream into their room unblocked by the window. It was a lovely, quiet morning in Hewetown, a bit chilly with the promise to warm up. Dew was still on the ground, and the air smelled sweet. A lovely day, and Rue wasn’t enjoying an ounce of it, once again haven been woken up for a fourth time this week by a bout of fitful sleep plagued by feelings of suffocation and a soreness around their neck until they finally gave in, combing up and down the street long past dark and into the morning. Their boots were covered in mud, hands much the same. Honestly, it was a miracle their neighbors hadn’t called the police yet. At least, they hoped it was just a miracle, or perhaps simply neighbors that slept like the dead. With that done, they went back to the kitchen only to see something already waiting for them.

“Rough night?” their grandmother, Willow, said as she passed them an entire teapot. It was an odd blend, chamomile, mint, ginger and yerba mate tea, but a particular favorite of theirs after a long night. Albeit not so much because of the taste, but more for the energy boost.

Rue drank it hot, hot enough that the taste barely mattered anyways – just as Yerba Mate should be consumed – relishing the heat in their throat and chest, even easing away some of the phantom tightness. Only after they’d had a full cup of tea did they nod, trying their best to clear their throat even as it felt like it was being pinched shut. “Ye-Yeah…” They’d need more. The water was still hot, so they dropped some sage in the teapot and poured another cup.

Willow gave them a sympathetic look, rubbing their back. There was no hiding from her that they hadn’t been sleeping well, waking up feeling like they couldn’t breathe, and they both knew it wasn’t from any normal illness or some sudden development of sleep apnea. Something was wrong with something somewhere nearby, and they were going to have to find it or it might drive them mad.

Rue had a secret: they had magic. Not just used magic, but had magic. Their parents had said it was a curse, or rather, that they were a curse, long ago, and maybe they were right. Magic was, despite what some might think, not always inherently bad, but the kind of will, desperation, and deliberation it took to actually perform anything usually never led to anything good. Oh sure, lots of good people tried it, sometimes good things happened from it, but most pulled out before they could have anything to show for it besides a lesson learned, maybe a weird story or a small memento. But nothing came free, magic included, though the cost didn’t strictly need to come from the user’s pocket. Someone had to pay, eventually. At least, that’s how it typically went. And then there was Rue. They weren’t sure if they were someone else’s cost, someone else’s outcome (intended or not), or something else, but they at least knew they’d always seen and felt things others never did. No amount of trying to ignore it made it stop, but they found ways to cope. Such as lovely cups of tea after long, hard nights. But if this pressure in their throat didn’t ease up, they felt like they were going to go mad…

Though thankfully they didn’t have to wait much longer – a kid said good morning to them through the windows, half-dragging a dog almost twice her size, and Rue had to cough up their tea, suddenly wheezing for breath as they looked at the dog. Willow rubbed their back, raising an eyebrow, but she knew.

Rue ran out to the girl, Cindy, they were pretty sure. “Hey, is that your dog?” They winced at their own voice, it sounded so hoarse, but they’d fix that soon.

“Um… yeah… He’s Shadow…” Cindy said, staring at her feet with that tone of voice when a kid knows they’re caught. “Are you sick?”

“Ah, just sang too much, made my throat sore.” A white lie, but believable, they were known to sing to their plants. Their hand went out to Shadow’s head.

“Careful… He doesn’t like a lot of people…” Cindy said.

Shadow was a massive thing, pitch black and open-mouthed, panting for breath and paws dragging until he flopped on his side, eyes rolled up and bloodshot. He was thin... Rue’s hand slid to Shadow’s collar, a black thing that barely showed against his fur; the collar was digging into his throat, blood staining the dark fabric. Shadow whined as Rue traced scratch marks, feeling phantom pains in their own neck – Cindy was saying something but they couldn’t focus on that, not with Shadow right here like this. They couldn’t breathe, throat closed like a vice was around it, aching and constricting tighter and tighter-

Rue pulled a pocket knife and sliced the collar off in one smooth motion. Shadow threw his head up with a sudden gasp, limbs moving around as the god-awful weight came off of his throat, and bolted down the street in a mad dash. The maddening tightness in Rue’s own neck finally let up and he let out a sigh of sheer relief, a week’s worth of nightmares and crazed searches sliding off their shoulders.

Cindy, leash still in hand, stared at them, saying nothing for a while before moving off with a mumble of, “Dad’s gonna be mad…” and watching as Rue walked back into their house.

“You could’ve just gotten them a new collar,” Willow said.