Sahel was feeling dizzy, he stopped for the third time, landing painfully on the ground, he had tried to vomit while flying but it had been much of a disaster. Dark blood seemed to be getting out of his stomach at least it tasted like blood even though it seemed a lot thicker. He had a hell of a stomach ache. He would have bet that it was due to Brownie’s potion. Now that he had drunk it, he knew exactly where she was even though he still didn’t know why, but it seemed very difficult for him to get there. He hadn’t thought about the consequences when he took the potion, he only wanted to know what she knew and to do what she did before disappearing, just to get a clue. Now, it seemed like the worse idea ever. He hold on to the trunk of a young tree and vomit again, images were flashing in front of his eyes ever time the blood was coming up. It was a disorienting sensation. There was nothing he could do right now. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and took few steps forward in the forest before falling down. His feet seemed unable to carry him anymore, his legs were shaking. He tried to sad on the floor but he couldn’t. Images started to materialize in front of his eyes, images of the demon world a long time ago. He closed his eyes to make the images go away but they were still there.
“Not again”, he muttered before losing consciousness.
He woke up in a cell. he stood up to look outside. The window was barred by vertical iron bars. It was a cold morning, colder than it was supposed to be in this season. They were all outside preparing to get to church, he could see people arriving, with their horse wagon for the richer and walking for the other, most of the women were wearing dark dresses. That was a pleasant spectacle, at least it was different than the usual show off happening at church. Church was the most boring place of all, the pastor was continuously repeating himself in the same way, every time he had gone there Sahel had felt depressed afterward by the heavy burden of his sins that he seemed to be unable to get rid of, no matter how hard he tried. To make it more interesting, the women were having a competition, it was to see who was the best? Who wore the nicest dress? Whose kids were behaving the best? And then there was the gossip. Sahel hated the gossip, it always started with “did you know that blablabla?” to which the next one would answer by “yes and add details” or by “no and ask for more information” and then it was interminable chit-chatting.
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