Unedited Excerpt from The Chronicles of Winterset, Wildfire

We finally reached our destination, and I breathed out nervously as Brena knocked lightly on the large oak doors. It was opened immediately by a bright-eyed older man with a snow white beard that cascaded to his knees. His powder blue robes billowed behind him making him appear larger than he was.

“Ah, Princess,” he clapped his hands happily and ushered me in. I turned to Brena for guidance, but she only smiled at me and gave a little nod before the doors closed on her. “I was wondering when you’d get over here to visit me! I’d have come to you, but your brother insisted that you be left to rest. Why for is beyond me! I could have had you in tip-top shape already!”

“I’ve only just started getting around,” I mumbled, averting my eyes from him.

“And that’s my point! We’d be miles ahead if I’d seen you sooner,” he stated with a bright smile as he gestured for me to take a seat in a plush velvet chair in front of his very large desk, a quill pen, scroll, and a stub of a near burned out candle sitting in the center of it. I looked nervously around the spacious circular room, glancing at all the strange plants and bottles filled with different colored liquids adorning the many shelves that lined the walls.

“Please, Princess,” Gregor encouraged.

I sat down on the chair, my heart beating quickly in my chest, unsure of what to expect. This didn’t seem like a typical doctor visit, but this was Winterset, not home, and I was a princess, an Oracle, not a normal teenager any longer.

Gregor took my hand in his wizened one and peered at me with his clear blue eyes.

“Ah, you are special indeed!” he murmured. I felt a zing of energy flow through me as he squeezed my hand, the warmth quickly spreading through me as it eased my sore muscles. I quickly pulled my hand away as he smiled kindly at me, his task complete. I tested my fingers and arms, noting how good I felt, despite the agony in my chest.

“Not bad, huh?” Gregor asked kindly. “I’m no Oracle, but I can heal like the dickens!”

“But can you mend a broken heart?” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes. I wiped hastily at them, and Gregor turned and stared kindly at me, a sad smile marring his aged face.

“Heartbreak is a sickness, one not easily remedied. The heart can become diseased, broken, sometimes incapable of being well again. The sickness leaves a scar, deep and everlasting with the ability to poison what’s left.”

“But can it be fixed? How do I make it better?” I whispered softly, meeting his somber, gleaming eyes.

“Ah, that is the tricky part, unfortunately,” Gregor sighed, settling down on the edge of the ornate desk in front of me. “One can choose the treatment, which is time, but time doesn’t always fix what’s broken. Or one can simply embrace the sickness, become it, spread it, wallow in it until there is only a shadow of a heart left. You cannot touch a shadow, and without the warmth of touch, you become cold. You become the sickness. You become the disease.”

“And the darkness?” I breathed, my heart beating painfully in my chest as Calix’s face flashed through my mind.

“And the darkness,” he nodded sadly. “You become the darkness.”