The sound of a calloused and unloving hand cruelly echoed through the air. Kande Nadjina's face hit stone.
The brute calling himself her husband snarled. "Useless woman."
To all the world Kande made no reaction as she picked herself up off the ground. Anything she could do now would just lead to another blow, another insult.
But even Kande's silence wasn't good enough. Maigué Nadjina erupted into a flurry of hateful epithets his wife had long since learned to tune out.
Though she still said nothing, made no face, boiling rage flooded the empty void in Kande's chest. The woman with no heart made a silent vow. This was the last time this man would lay a hand on her. Vicious curses screamed in Kande's mind, fueling her march out of the house.
For a while Kande stormed towards nowhere in particular, with only her fury as her guide. She prowled through the white hot roads, startling the few who laid eyes on her. The sounds of music and stomping feet in every direction only made Kande feel worse. She forced herself to stop and breathe, before she wound up doing something drastic.
Most of Kande's village was caught up in the festivities of Guérewol this week. The house of the chieftain would be free of visitors, and he would know what to do. When people in Kande's village were angry and lost, their chief was always their guidance.
The woman with no heart made her way towards the largest house she could see, trying to drown her bad memories before they reached the surface. The rage still swirling within the empty void in her chest made Kande's knocking more forceful than she'd meant it to be.
The ancient man who answered the door was taken aback by the sudden intrusion. His eyes were locked on Kande's furious expression-- or perhaps the equally angry red mark on her face-- as she stormed into the village chieftain's house.
"I cannot handle this wretched man anymore. He is driving me mad--"
"Is this about Maigué again?" The chieftain's tone was flat.
Kande suddenly had a bad feeling about this. "...Yes."
"Out with it then, what happened this time?"
"The man constantly puts his hands on me and berates me and does whatever he wants to me and I am about to lose my mind. I've done everything my husband asks and smiled like you told me to but he never seems to know what he wants and he takes it all out on me and despite my place as a wife I can't just sit here and take it and let him..." Kande gasped.
The old man said nothing, but his face said it all. The chieftain subtly rolled his eyes in annoyance and boredom.
Kande's blood began to boil, but she forced herself to stop and breathe. "Chieftain, it has been seven years of this. With everything Maigué has done in that time, I am more than a little afraid for my life." The woman with no heart shuddered with dread. "What do I do? How do I make him stop?"
The chieftain let out a long sigh, staring down at Kande. "Your place is in the home, in service of your husband and the children you are meant to bear. If you would simply learn to submit, none of this would happen," he sneered. "You know this, Kande. This is not the first time you've barged through my door in a huff."
"Then you should know by now I have tried that--"
"Clearly you've not tried hard enough, or your husband would not be so angry with you." The village chief flicked a hand towards the door. "Now get out of my sight."
Kande turned tail, fuming harder than she had been before. She didn't know what she had expected from him at this point. The many times this old fool had given Kande poor guidance rushed through her memories. One such time pained her more than all the rest.
When Kande was nearing twenty-seven, she rushed to that same house, wild desperation in her eyes. The week of Guérewol had just ended, and Kande felt nothing. No matter how the men danced or the women flirted, Kande felt not the tug of connected souls with anyone in her village. People began to stare, to whisper. "The woman with no heart" became her epithet.
The words the village chieftain gave Kande that night would haunt her for the rest of her days. "Either you are far too picky, or you're broken. Hurry up and find a man before your time as a maiden runs out."
And that she did. Those words led Kande to the man whose hand still stung her face. On her wedding night, Kande felt nothing. Over the years of marriage that had passed since then, Kande felt nothing. Even now, as she returned home with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, Kande still felt nothing.
It was worth it to try the honorable route one more time, though. Just so there would be no regrets.
The meal Kande served tonight would be sweet, but it would be Maigué Nadjina's last. A syrupy concoction mixed into his bowl would see him dead by morning, and with most of the village distracted by the ongoing festivities of Guérewol, Kande could slip out unnoticed.
But Kande was not that lucky.
For the third day in a row, Kande awoke to the sound of music and stomping feet at the crack of dawn, as young men danced to impress their sweethearts. When she was in the early years of her marriage, Kande often found herself gazing at the festivities, to find out if, even too late, she might feel the tug of connected souls with anyone there. If only to prove that she was not broken. There were many beautiful men and lovely women participating each year, certainly one of them would pull on Kande's soul.
It was a lie she told herself. They never did. By last year's Guérewol, Kande had long since given up on this charade, but as she waited for her chance to escape in the midst of her work today, Kande found herself doing it again.
Like every year before, Kande felt nothing. Like every year before, she knew deep down that she would.
A lull in Kande's work gave her the opportunity she needed. Her bag of supplies in hand, Kande dove into the sea of trees surrounding her little village.
Kande didn't get far, before a blood-curdling scream stopped the song and dancing in its tracks. And it was close. Kande burst into a run. The sounds of shouting and stomping feet came closer and closer, screaming curses at the woman with no heart. Kande didn't dare look behind her, diving through trees as rocks and sticks were launched into her back. A dread she tried to suppress flooded the empty void in Kande's chest.
"Get down!" A firm voice from... in front of her. It sounded somewhat like a woman, but not quite.
Startled, Kande quickly threw herself to the ground. Through the tall grass she saw a faint flash of light. When the light faded, the cacophony behind Kande faded in turn.
After an eternity of silence, Kande scrambled to her feet and whipped around to find her pursuers. In their place was a field of statues, their faces twisted into agony and rage. Confusion filled the empty void in Kande's chest. She turned around again, to the source of the voice she had heard a moment ago.
What Kande saw was clearly a spirit, but no kind of spirit she had ever seen before. It had the face of a woman, but its hair was... snakes. Dozens of them, all a beautiful orange-red with tan undersides. The same scales and pattern that comprised the snake tail where its legs ought to be. Gold adorned its body in several places-- the armor plating the spirit's chest, the bracelets around its wrists, the belt that held a skirt around its tail, and the coronet that kept its snakes out of its face. Even the spirit's eyes were that same striking gold color. This was what had turned the villagers to statues-- what had saved Kande's life.
"Thank you, fair one." Kande gave a polite nod to the spirit and walked away.
"Where are you going?"
Kande froze. Where... was there for her to go? The village would kill her if she returned now. If Kande was lucky, she could find another tribe and start anew, but... no, it wouldn't work. No matter where she went, Kande was still the woman with no heart. And now, a murderer. Her nature would be discovered in time. This cycle would repeat over and over again.
"May you walk with me?" The spirit held out a hand.
Kande's eyes narrowed. Spirits were fickle, deadly things. She sized up this one's expression, trying to determine if it was safer to accept or reject the offer. The spirit wore a gentle smile. Its face was turned downward and to the side, like it was unsure of itself. But it was not aggressive, nor did this spirit wear the vicious grin of a trickster. And it had just saved Kande's life. Against her better judgement, Kande took the spirit's hand, and they walked.
"You may refer to me as Petra," It-- Petra started, finally facing Kande with that same gentle smile. "...Yours?"
Kande paused for a moment. "Kande Nadjina,"
Petra looked up and down at Kande, studying her expression. "Are you, ah..." It trailed off for a moment. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Kande?" The spirit offered with a curious look. Petra likely saw Kande's whirlwind of emotions written all over her face. If only having no heart meant she could feel no pain.
A long silence. Kande knew what she wanted to request, but not how to say it. She wracked her brain for the right phrasing, before settling on the simplest. "Can you fix me?"
Petra tilted its head. "Are you broken?"
"Yes." Kande barely gave Petra time to finish its sentence. "I have no heart."
Petra slid its hand up Kande's wrist, feeling the blood pump through her body. "Who told you that?"
"Everyone. My family, my village, my chieftain, my husband..." Kande's free hand tightened. "Their souls connect so easily, but whenever I try to find love, I feel nothing."
"Mmm." Petra's smile fell. "And those people from your village. They attacked you because you were different?" The spirit's tone felt a bit too knowing, as if Petra had faced a tragedy similar to what it described.
"To an extent. I had been made to marry a man quickly, and grew to hate it." Kande's fist clenched even tighter, so tight her hand turned pale. "I grew to hate him. He would beat me. He would berate me. He would've ruined my life-- no, he was ruining my life, he and the fools who forced us together. I was at the end of my rope. I..." Remorse mixed with rage, and tears began to well up in Kande's eyes. "I poisoned him. I murdered him."
Petra's hand squeezed Kande's a little tighter. "You did what you had to. You escaped that man."
The tears only fell faster. Kande must have truly been broken, to resort to what she had done. "H-how could I...?"
"There's your heart." With her vision blurred from tears, Kande couldn't see it, but Petra's smile had returned warmer than ever. "Your village lied to you, Kande. You are not broken, or heartless. You're a rare gem. Maybe one of a kind."
Suspicion filled the empty void in Kande's chest. She wiped her face to watch Petra's expression shift into the dull pain of misery.
Petra turned to the ground again. "I would know. I'm one of a kind too."
"Is... is that so?" Kande didn't really believe what Petra was saying, but... she imagined it for a moment. Kande imagined being whole the way she was, being accepted by her people like this spirit accepted her. It felt nice. If only for just a moment, until the corpse and the statues returned to her mind, and Kande remembered what she truly was.
Endless silence passed. Kande and Petra kept exchanging glances at each other, as if both of them were waiting for the other to speak. Neither of them did.
The sun was starting to fall when Petra finally spoke. "We're here."
Before Kande's eyes stood a small encampment, where a trio of pale women were preparing a fire for the night to come. One look at them was all it took for Kande to know that these were sorcerers like herself.
Petra released Kande's hand and slithered towards the witches in its company. It quickly retold Kande's story with the one in red. That one seemed to be their chieftain, given her elaborate gown and the commanding tone she spoke to the others with. The spirit and the witches' chieftain went into the tent while Kande sat by the fire and sighed. The other witches talked amongst themselves, but the woman with no heart was not in the mood for light conversation.
After what felt like all day, Kande heard her name. She looked up to find the spirit and the witches' chieftain sitting next to her by the campfire. The other two witches had gone, most likely retired into the tent to give Kande the space she sorely needed.
The witches' chieftain took a moment to breathe deeply, looking up at the canopy of trees before her gaze fell back onto Kande. "How are you doing...?" She asked softly.
"Awful. I feel like a wretch."
The chieftain put a hand on Kande's shoulder. When she flinched at the touch, the sorcerer retracted her hand. "Petra told me a little about what happened, and I want to offer a hand."
Kande's eyes narrowed into a suspicious glare. "I'm listening."
"A rare gem like you doesn't deserve to be tormented, misunderstood... rejected by her own people." The sorcerer in red gave a bright smile. "How would you like to be part of something bigger? A gleaming jewel on a regal crown?"
The witches' chieftain was really laying on the flattery, it seemed. The woman with no heart kept her gaze on the witch and the spirit, waiting for the hidden catch.
"Since you have nowhere to go..." The witches' chieftain looked up and down at the small wounds Kande had incurred while being chased out of her village. Slowly, her eyes landed on the angry red mark that had just begun to fade from Kande's face. "You could come with us." There was more pain in the chieftain's smile this time.
"You're stronger than you know, Kande." Petra's golden eyes gleamed with excitement. "We can do great things together, and our Coven would ensure you're never mistreated again."
Now that was a lofty promise. One Kande had never heard before. "You're not..." For a moment Kande considered rejecting this outlandish offer and vanishing into the setting sun. But that same question from this morning rang in her mind. Where would she go? "If you are able to keep such a high promise," Kande began, a tiny smile finally blooming on her face, "My poisons are at your disposal."
Petra's smile widened in return, and it offered Kande its hand once more. "Then welcome to our Coven, Kande. You'll fit right in."
Chapter 6/30
