SCAR OF SCANTHIN

The child toddled into the room with bleary, fearful eyes and a burning lantern in hand. Save for her light source, which should not really qualify for one as the lantern had been designed so small for her size and was meant as a deterrent for the ghosts under the bed; the room was pitch dark. The windows were tightly shut and the room smelled……funny.

She scrunched up her little nose, unaccustomed to the smell that was not her sister’s sweet-smelling flowers in spring scent.

Maybe her sister let in one of the stray dogs again. But the thought had barely registered before she heard the muffled and grunting sounds from the bed.

“Sara?,” she called hesitantly, barely hearing her own self as she made her way closer to the big four poster bed with the lacy, frilly lavender curtains all around it.

That was another thing that was off.

Although Sara had insisted on the curtains and had put their mother through a whole lot of ‘face wrinkling stress’ as their mother would call it, she had never let the curtains down. She had tied the beautiful material up and treated it without a care in the world but that was just Sara.

Although she loved her sister more than anyone or anything in the world, she sometimes could not shake off the feeling that Sara would run into trouble one of these days, especially with a ghost, as she was fond of roaming the grounds at night.

She would never do that. She could not, even if she wanted. She was not as courageous as her sister to face the ghosts in the dark.

But despite her sister’s bravery, she still worried for her.

Take for instance that evening before everyone retired to bed, Sara had called one of the men from a visiting clan a pig and stormed out of the room, leaving everyone to pick up their jaws from the floor.

She had taken off after her sister immediately, ignorant of the tension in the room.

‘Sara, mother would spank you for that,” she said rushing into the room and jumping on a fuming Sara, who sat spitting fire from her eyes on the chair in her room.

“No she would not,” Sara answered confidently, cuddling her younger sister to her side.

“But you just said a forbidden word to a guest,” she argued fervently, extricating myself from the tight hug to look into her face.

No matter the number of times she had done it in the past, looking into Sara’s eyes took her breathe away. The dancing, golden sparks in Sara’s green eyes made her insides come alive with happiness and a fuzzy feeling of being swept away into her soul. Throw in her sister’s small and perfect features and that was all it had taken to convince her six year old self Sara was an angel.

And lucky her, she had been sent before her to protect her from all the bad ghosts in the world. It was just a little too lucky her angel had to be brave and had the fighting spirit of their papa.

“Sweetheart, he is a bad man and he deserved that. Anyone from the Lauchair clan deserve that and more. They are very very bad people,” she said, putting extra stress on the word ‘bad’.

“Do they not wash their hands before eating? Do they not say their prayers? Do they doze off during sermons? Do they let in strays?,” she rattled off her own vices, happy to know she was not the only bad person in the world.

Sara threw back her head and let out a loud, tinkling musical laughter.

Her little heart melted watching one of the many little things she loved about her sister. Sara’s laughter always made everything better and she always joined in the laughter.

“No sweetheart. The Lauchair clan are extremely bad and such things as your little vices mean nothing to them,” she replied smiling and stoking the little adoring face latching unto her every word. “A long long time ago before either one of us was born, the Scanthin and Lauchair clans were just clans of witches and wolves. They were strong “I wish the whole world was as innocent as you sweetheart. I wish people like the Lauchairs did not exist. I wish a plaque would take them all!”

She could see the dying fire in her sister’s eyes kindling to life again. So she just cuddled next to her and stroked her face to calm her as she had done to her earlier.

But she just could not help asking the question burning in her heart, even though talking about the Lauchair clan would only rile her sister up again.

“Sara?,” she called out fearfully when she got to the foot of the bed, the hand holding the lantern trembling as she struggled to hold the lantern up, wishing her papa had made it brighter.

There was a ghost in the room!

And it was on the bed, torturing Sara!

For a moment, she stood rooted to the spot as waves and tides of fear gripped her little body, taking the breath from her. The burning lantern crashed down to the carpet from her nerveless fingers. She wanted to shout for help but no sound left her throat.

She watched the struggling bodies on the bed in horror and her little mind knew Sara was losing the fight.

If she did nothing, the ghost would take Sara.

No one would be there to protect her anymore.

No one would be there to answer her questions and cuddle her like she was their favorite person in the world.

No one would smell like Sara ever again.

Her love for her sister was more than her fear for the most fearsome ghost in the whole world and before she could have a rethink, she rushed toward the bed with a battle cry she had heard her brothers make so many times. Only difference was, it was not as bloodcurdling as theirs but she did not care.

She hurled her small body on top of the ghost who was already turning towards the sound but he was not fast enough.

She gripped his head, pulling his hair like her life depended on it and went ahead to latch her teeth into his scalp

Alan, her brother said she had the most beautiful but sharpest teeth he had ever seen and she never hesitated to use it on him because he was forever tormenting her.

The ghost let out a loud scream, confirming Alan’s theory.

“Let go you bitch!” The ghost screamed but she was too engrossed with her task of saving Sara that every other thing happening in the room was became nonexistent.

It was just her and the ghost now.

Her sister was safe, as long as she held on.

“Noooooo!”

If her love for her sister was any less, she would have registered the warning scream but she held on and just as the warning sound faded away, she felt a burning pain running down her back own back.

Her hold on the ghost went lax as at the same time, he swatted her like a fly and she felt herself falling.

In the next few seconds, a loud booming sound rang out in the room and she saw the big ghost also falling.

Her eyes were open long enough to see something sticking out of Sara’s chest and her snowy white nightgown stained red.

“Scar.”

“Scar.”

She heard everyone, including Alan the tormentor calling her name over and over again in a worrisome voice but she could not answer them.

And not once did she hear Sara’s voice in the mix.

Over the next couple of weeks, the clan of Scathin battled for the lives of the two precious daughters of the chieftain.