40°55'54.0"N 47°30'40.9"E – O?uz, Azerbaijan

  18.05.2024- 22.30 UTC +04.00

  I had to examine the area. I inhaled deeply, the aroma of tobacco calming me. I stood up decisively.

  I grabbed my coat. It had feathers strewn on its shoulder pads and around the neck, iridescent feathers of starlings, all offered by the willing birds of the region. We were supposed to always wear the coat while in Starling’s domain, to remain connected with the coven and under her protective charms.

  I caressed the feathers and felt the rough material below the coat. No matter the justification, this mainly felt like a uniform to inspire respect. Or maybe intimidate. For that reason, I kept it off when I was in my own Curse’s ward – it felt unfitting. My ward was meant to protect and hide, not intimidate. But now I had to step out, and I’d better don it.

  Once I wore the feathery garment, I picked up the unlit candle waiting for me next to the window. I grabbed a pinch of the enchanted sand and blew it over the candle’s wax.

  Stay lit only for me, I whispered at it, and as I did, the candle sparked lit in a light red flame. Its flame would bring the warmth and protection of the warded house with me. I was ready.

  I opened the door, exiting the cabin. The sand that lined the windows encircled the whole cabin, and right outside the door, it divided the safe ward from the rest of the world. I carefully stepped over the sand circle.

  I felt a slight tingle as I left the circle, and I held the candle closer to my abdomen. I looked around as far as my sight could reach. The uphill fields extended to the north, but the warning had come from the south. I slowly walked around the cabin, surveilling the area. In the darkness, the hazelnut trees merged into a maze of shadows, but nothing mundane like that could block my sight.

  I gazed as far as I could, but I could see no shadows.

  I can see till the lights of Daymadere and hear the laughs and worries in K?rimli, but I sense no shadow; Nisy.

  I sang the last whisper, letting the slight breeze carry the waves of my voice. I found it easier to sing to the wind when I was outdoors. It was a trick I had learned to master, diminishing the strain in my vocal cords. This time, I did not weep.

  We now hold the bow; Starling.

  Stay vigilant Nisy; Hokum?.

  I kept walking around the cabin, slowly making my way farther into the orchard below. With every step, I strayed deeper into silence among trees. My Cursed candle’s light allowed me to see till the far corners of the valley, in a way not all Cursed could see.

  If there were a man of Adil or a Shadow hiding not just in this orchard, but in the surrounding fields, I should have seen or heard them. Instead, absolute silence. I could bet that if a butterfly tripped over the sand of my ward, I would hear it.

  O?uz will fall.

  A whisper arrived, unsigned again, sent by a foreign voice. And then again.

  O?uz will fall.

  O?uz will fall.

  Was that a threatening whisper by an enemy taunting us? Or was it someone from our coven celebrating? Standing outside, exposed, warded only by a candle, I felt unease. Something had happened.

  Starling, I hear nothing- I almost whispered but hesitated.

  I had just realized the verity of what I was about to say. The rain blew against the dark trunks and leaves of the hazel trees around me. Among them, a tall persimmon tree reflected light as lightning crackled far into the sky, perhaps taunting the storm to be struck as well. I could still see and feel the rain around me falling, as it did in fact the whole night.

  But there was no sound, no music from the drops. A sound so faint, my ears had assumed it granted.

  I extended my left hand while I held the candle with the right still near my chest. I felt the droplets of rain touch my skin, and as they bounced on my hand, their motion created no sound. My eyes then scoured the ground around me, as frequent drops wet the ground around me, again, without sound.

  The silence was supernatural, Cursed.

  “This is a silence hex,” I concluded, quickly bringing my left hand closer to my candle. Its light protected me from whatever hex was cast across the field, and I still had my voice. But the orchard around me had gone silent.

  Lightning – now closer – responded, illuminating and casting color to the trees. No thunder followed.

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  Someone, a Cursed, had cast a hex so wide and powerful that it covered the territory like a sheet of calm. If I were to disturb it too much, it could easily overwhelm me, and I would never manage to head back to my warded cabin, nor warn the rest of the coven.

  I headed back with slow, steady steps. I had to warn the other watchers.

  Zephyr, Zaman, Kaz fear the silence; Nisy.

  I tried to whisper as quietly as possible. The candle flickered as my words spread wings and rode the breeze around it.

  Zephyr, Zaman, Kaz fear the silence; Nisy.

  I kept repeating my warning as I took small steps, hearing nothing but my whispers. In the absence of a reliable hearing, my eyes darted from tree to tree as I walked past them, waiting for an omen of threat. The silence was deafening, and my whispering echoed in my head, trying to recapture the void left behind.

  I repeated it again and again, as I walked in the silent rain. No more singing or techniques – I just had to hope my message could still pass through this hex.

  I reached the circle around my cabin. I sighed at its sight: it was undisturbed. I jumped over it, and the moment I did, the sound of the rain smoothly blended into the backdrop as it should.

  Whatever Cursed, they had not broken my ward. Or they never intended to. Before I entered the cabin, I looked back at the orchard, and I realized that from inside, I would never have noticed anything. Once more, I sent my warning to the rest of the wardens around O?uz:

  Zephyr, Zaman, Kaz fear the silence; Nisy.

  I entered the cabin, safely out of the reach of the silence hex.

  On the days that Zaman was here, we would stroll together, surveying the fields, marking with warding enchantments appropriate corners and bird nests. It was an exhausting and thorough exercise, better done in pairs. Since he had left, I had only ventured once to retrieve the sand, and not a moment had arrived that I had longed for a walk.

  After knowing a threat was looming outside, and feeling the cabin turning into a cage, I suddenly hated the sight of the dusty and disorganized shelves, the cluttered shelving next to the analog television, and the table with the small piles of tobacco.

  Well, not tobacco. I did not hate that.

  I strategically chose not to hang my coat. In case I were in danger, I would have to escape quickly. Using its Cursed blessings, foreign as they were, was my only form of escape. I locked the door and stashed its key in my left pocket. I walked to the window, and I left the candle next to it, not extinguishing its flame just yet. It would go out on its own after a few hours, but its light could lift my spirits for a while.

  I headed to the table to grab some tobacco. I started chewing, trying to understand the implications of the situation.

  I had failed – whatever happened, I was deceived in my ward. There was no other way to see it. Part of me hoped the person who cast that hex had passed and left without a trace. They did not sense me as much as I did not sense them, remaining mutually undetected.

  I could only hope the silence was the aftermath and not the introduction.

  But that also meant the threat was now heading to my coven. I bit my lips. I spat the tobacco and stood up, bracing myself to send the most important whisper of my mission.

  Something is approaching O?uz, I failed; Nisy.

  I whispered once more.

  Something is approaching O?uz, I failed; Nisy.

  This was my failure, mistaking silence for the absence of a threat, and I had to warn the others. I could only hope that at least nobody would –

  The candle’s flame snuffed out.

  I caught a glimpse in my peripheral vision, a blur, before its light was extinguished. In its stead, a weak stream of smoke waltzed forward, guided by an invisible breeze.

  A hollow scream was all I exhaled.

  I could produce no sound, no breath, no voice. I started gasping for air; I had released my whisper into the wild for my coven, but now some cold wooden fingers had trapped it in a cage. I breathed, but I had no oxygen. I spoke and had no voice, and all I could think of was: the candle should still be lit with light.

  My knees felt weak, but I remained standing. I gathered all the might I had to command my assailant, whoever they were.

  “Release me!”

  I tread heavy steps towards the table, blind to any other options. And there it was, a breath; not mine, as someone had hexed it away, but another one. It was subtle, but it was there, at the back of my neck. Surrounding me. Holding me.

  I stepped forward once more, unable to turn and look behind me.

  The television turned on without warning, with a distorted sound. Its silver light highlighted the shadowed corners of the cabin. A distorted man’s voice cracked through weak speakers:

  “…has vowed to break the siege around Bak?. Unverified but optimistic sources speak of a Caspian delegation shifting allegiances to free the mainland. These unholy wars shall end. We shall end you.”

  The last words lingered a bit longer through the distortion. I reached the table, my breathing stabilizing for a moment.

  I lifted my right hand and with all the might I had, I hit it on the table, my fingernails scratching its wooden surface. I scratched up and down with both my hands. I needed the pain in my fingers to wake up my nerves and unplug my lungs. I saw my fingers and palms turn blackish red.

  I had to remember that with the feathers I donned, I was a bird of pain.

  “A bird of pain. You cannot bend my,” pain I strived to say. The invisible hold crushed my lungs, and I fell over, tumbling onto the floor next to the table.

  Lying there, all I could see was the silver light flickering on the wet wooden floor. A floor that no longer creaked, consumed by the very same silence that had snatched my whispers.

  “We shall end you.” The voice of the television lingered before it turned off with a sharp ring, filling the room with darkness. I tried to raise my voice, but it was extinguished, only able to beg for the shortest of breaths.

  I could not hear the rain anymore. The rain.