Chapter Three
Curses are not easy things to break. Dorcas was a great teacher, but this…it requires tools. Unkind ones that warp the mind and test her. She becomes obsessed too quickly, consumed by the search.
She travels when she has to. Follows rumors of dragons in the mountains; bargens with Fae and monsters alike. When rumors of an herb powerful enough to break curses reaches her, Mary takes to the sea.
There are moments on the boat that feel worse than death. Waves that she’s sure would send her into the sea, storms that soaked through the wooden floor and left her shivering and praying for clear skies. The days were so hot, yet she starved herself of their water stores in favour of needing enough to reach the other side of this hell.
And when she does…nothing. It was an old wives tale.
This is a new place, and she is a stranger to it as much as it is to her. The people are kind, but distant. She learns languages she only knew fragments of.
But it’s good. To be somewhere new. To be a new person.
She lives modestly. Time has taught her it is best to treasure things. Care for them. Fix them if they break, and discard them if need be.
In remembrance of an old friend, she learns to carve wood. Cut into it, and build something new. At first it hurts. She slices her hands, and gets slivers that she has to soak in buckets of water until they can be loosened. Regulus taught her how to strip bark, but not much else, so she learns. She keeps his gift to her as a reminder. She keeps making pots and vases because some habits can’t be killed and hers is her hands. The work they do, the magic they create.
This time, Lily finds her. Across the ocean, disturbing her peace. Crawling into her heart and making a home there.
It’s not a small town, but somehow Lily starts finding her. In the woods, working. In the flower shop she sells to. The market, the bars. Her green eyes meet Mary’s dark ones
One day, when the sun is setting over the town square, it happens.
“I’m Lily,” an outstretched hand.
“Mary,” she takes it.
“I feel like I run into you everywhere,” she says it with that big smile, warm and open, putting the sunset to shame.
“You have no idea.”
For the first time in over a century she lets herself get to know Lily. This Lily likes dogs, and wakes up with the sunrise. This Lily cooks scrambled eggs better than anyone she’s met. She grew up caring for her family's cows, and has a way with them Mary has never seen the likes of. She felt called to travel, so she did. She misses home and plans to return when she’s old and full of stories.
She hopes Mary will go with her.
In this life she lies, and says yes, she will.
In this life, she breaks Lily’s heart instead of her own.
“Where are you going?” Lily demands.
Mary’s packing her bags, throwing clothes in with her carving Regulus gave her, and her journals and inks. “I need to get away for a while.”
“Why? I thought–”
“Lily! Please,” she slams her hand down on the wooden top of their dresser. Looks up at her with pleading eyes. Lily stands, defensive against the doorframe. “I just need to go.”
She’s almost out the door when Lily’s voice stops her in her tracks.
“Is this because you don’t age?”
She stands, frozen. Hand beginning to reach for a doorknob she doesn’t know if she has the strength to open.
“I’ve known you for six years,” Lily moves behind her. “And I don’t care about your secrets, I know they are heavy. I have never asked, nor wanted more than you can give. But I am worth more than sneaking away in the middle of the night!” There’s a bite to Lily’s voice, something ready to claw and tear. Mary supposes she’s earned it.
How is it fair? These cycles? Grieving the same people again, and again. Lily’s right, she deserves better. Better than the same goodbye. The same person she can never live with. Not really.
What can she say?
I have loved you for centuries. I will never stop. And each life I find you, you are beautiful; and I am the same. I have met every single person possible, and none of them compare. But I will never have you back. No life will ever be ours.
“Six years,” Mary whispers. Sobs. And then she’s gone.
She goes north. The earth is harsh there, but she has grown into something akin to it. Winters are vicious. The air has claws and the ground teeth. She has never met anything as wild as her until now. The land a body frozen.
She doesn’t stay long. There is nowhere on earth she can go that she does not see Lily. Marlene. Dorcas, James, Sirius, Regulus, Remus. Their names are branded on every tree, in the scent of the ocean and the skyline.
She cannot run from them, but has no desire anymore to find them. So perhaps, for once, she will follow her own heart.
Boats are kinder now. She has company. Strangers who make it bearable. They’ve seen almost as much of the world as she has.
On her second day, she’s on the deck, watching the horizon, when somebody comes and stands next to her.
“It’s beautiful, don’t you think.”
She turns, and despite her instincts, it takes a moment to learn how to breathe again. “Yes,” she says, as steadily as she can manage. “It is.”
“My name is Pandora.”
“That’s a lovely name.”
“Most people just respond with theirs,” she rests her arms on the wooden railing, a small smile on her face.
“Sorry I–Mary.”
“Mary,” Pandora repeats. Her voice is soft, gentle. Mary had forgotten it, maybe she’d never learned it in the first place.
“Where are you traveling to?” She tries, cringing at how awkward it comes out.
“Denmark. My brother’s there.”
“I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”
“You haven’t been?”
“No,” Mary shakes her head. “I’ve been to a lot of places, but not there.”
“Well,” Pandora says, taking a step closer. Mary’s heart quickens, her hand grips the railing even tighter. “Perhaps I can convince you to visit. Where are you going?”
“I–” she finds the words stuck in her throat. “I don’t really know. Somewhere with mountains.” It’s funny, she might as well admit she’s looking for Sirius.
“Well, can’t say we have those.”
She laughs easier this time.
She doesn’t go to Denmark. But she does walk off that boat with a new friend. A lighter heart.
Six months of working on the docks of a small town and for the first time she learns what it’s like to work.
She guts fish, carries cargo, and comes home aching. Not even her hands are immune to the sting of ropes from tying sails, and anchoring ships to port. At night she holds them in pails of ice water and bites on her lip to stamp down the pain.
One day, a ship with the Canis Major constellation pulls into the harbor. When she spots it, a sly grin pulls across her face. She doesn’t need to see the faces of the crew to know who’s it is.
Of course Sirius Black would find his way to the sea.
She finds him trying to talk to another local with a map in his hands and that same charming smile on his face.
“Yes, but we’re trying to go–”
“Do you need some assistance?” She interrupts. The other girl looks a bit thankful for it and slips away back to work.
Sirius turns to look at her. “Yes, we’ve just docked here, but our maps had this island as a…somewhat more deserted location.”
“Is that so? How old are your maps?”
“Older than I was led to believe apparently.”
“Well, you’re here now, I have a good lay of the land. I know a place for you and your crew to stay.”
“Thank you, what can we do in return.”
Mary smiles, “You seem like someone with a story. Tell me why you came?”
He holds out his arm, “seems like a small price for the pleasure of your company.”
Twenty minutes later Sirius and her are in a pub while the others in his crew settle in the rooms above it.
“I keep a small team with me. We’ve travel the world, learning various tricks.”
“Tricks?”
Sirius’ eyes glimmer. He looks around, then whispers something under his breath. The vase on the table’s flowers fill with life again.
“Magic,” Mary hums. “Not many people still learn the old ways.”
“You know the way?”
“An old friend taught me, I’ve been neglecting my practice but let’s see–” she holds her hand on top of her cooled tea. In a breath she feels the same warmth flow through her. She watches as steam rises from what’s left, and raises it to her lips, blowing before taking a sip. This place does make quite good tea.
“No incantation? How?” Sirius questions excitedly.
“The magic is in you, not the words. They’re just crutches. Instructions. Get good enough and you don’t need them anymore.”
“Brilliant.”
“What are you searching for here?”
“A gobblet. It’s said to be guarded by a god. When you drink from it, it grants your heart's truest desires.”
Mary stills, the words processing. “Truest desires? You’re sure of it?”
“It’s an old legend, but I have a good feeling about it. I’m not usually wrong.”
This is her chance, she realizes. Her chance to be free. “If it’s anywhere on this island I’ll be able to find it.”
Sirius considers her, if he’s surprised by her sudden change in pace he doesn’t chow it. “Alright, seeing as we don’t have a map, we leave at dawn.”
“Good. Dress warm, the mornings are cold here.”
She barely sleeps that night. Too afraid to hope, nervous enough to think it might just be possible. Centuries of lives, is a wish enough? Yet, for the first time she wonders if she’s ready for it. To die. To see what happens after.
She wants to grow old first, she decides. Remus in some lives complained of aching bones that seemed to get worse with time. Eventually all of them fell to the whims of pain. Bodies weathered in ways hers has never had a chance to. If time is going to pass, Mary swears she wants to feel it.
When the morning comes, Sirius is there.
He introduces her to his crew, including his brother, Regulus, as well as James, Remus, and Peter. She swears she recognizes Peter's round face and steady eyes. Perhaps in another life they’d known one another.
Only Regulus, Sirius and James are heading to the cave. Remus injured his leg several months prior and isn’t up to the journey. Peter wanted to keep him company.
They set off for the mountains. It’s a long journey that could have been quicker if not for James and Sirius’ tendencies to wander off the beaten trail.
“So, where have you been?” Mary asks the group of them that evening.
They’ve made a campfire. It’s a clear night, and the stars are out. James is strumming a Vihuela and every so often would play something Sirius would hum along to.
“Oh, bits and pieces. Coast of Spain, Greece, and a bit further south. Then we went up and stayed in Scotland for a while because Prongs found himself a girl. But she went traveling, and we’ve been hopping around ever since.”
“Ah, Lily Evans,” James crosses his arms, grinning up at the sky. Mary on the other hand feels her blood go cold.
“Lily Evans?” She asks, voice feeling far away.
“Mh,” James murmurs, eyes closing. “She was so lovely.”
Regulus eyes her quizzically. “You know her?”
Mary steels herself, breathing slowly through her nose. “I might’ve run into her.”
“Really?” James perks up. “Where?”
“Across the ocean,” Mary smiles tightly. “She is lovely.”
“I hope I run into her again,” James sighs.
“We know,” Sirius laughs, kicking him with his leg. “I’ll tell you Mary he would never shut up about her.”
It’s funny, she’d never mentioned him. Maybe she was running from something after all.
“We should get some rest,” Regulus says. “Long hike tomorrow.”
“He’s right,” Mary yawns. “Something tells me it won’t be all that easy.”
It wasn’t easy. As soon as they leave the forest the wind turns cruel, ripping at their clothes. Dust and sand acted like knives, slicing at their skin. There is no path, only rocks teetering on a sharp precipice. One wrong move could send any of them down.
Half way through the day, James slips. Sirius is right there, catching him as he falls. Both of them almost go down. But Sirius manages to pull James to safety, Regulus and Mary helping as much as they can. Once he’s up, he collapses, biting down on a scream as he tries to put weight on his leg.
“Fuck, James you’re bleeding.” Regulus’ voice shakes, barely louder than the wind. He’s gripping James’ arm where a large gash drips blood.
“That’s not good,” Mary tuts, shouting to be heard. “We need to find shelter.”
Regulus doesn’t listen, ripping a piece of James’ shirt off and tying it around his arm to try and slow the bleeding.
“Why couldn’t you have ripped your own shirt,” James whines.
“Because I like it too much,” Regulus quibs back.
“I’m fine, thanks for noticing,” Sirius mutters. Mary looks over at him. He has a small cut on his forehead but is otherwise uninjurded.
“Don’t be a baby Sirius.” Regulus snips.
“I’m not, I could have been hurt too.”
With Sirius on one side and Regulus on another they manage to get James up. Not too far away there’s a cave they manage to crawl their way into.
Mary gets started on a fire while Regulus and Sirius tend to James.
“It’s not broken, which is good.” Sirius murmurs, touching the tender skin of James’ ankle. “You probably just twisted it.”
“I need to patch up your arm, get me the first aid kit, Sirius.” Regulus demands, his tone tight.
“You’re both being dramatic,” James grits out, but his voice sounds breathless. He’s in more pain than he’s letting on.
Mary tunes them out in favour of pulling some twigs out she’d collected before they left the woods. It’s not much, but it’s enough for a few hours. Something about this place feels cold, and her gut tells her it will only get worse as the sun sets.
She’ll have to go out and get more wood. There’s brambles nearby, she’d seen them. But that’s a problem for later.
James hisses as Regulus presses a damp cloth to his cut. “Fuck, that hurts.”
“I know, love. But we have to keep it clean.”
Mary holds her hands out, breathing deep and letting the fire come to life under her fingertips.
Sirius moves closer to her, spotting the small flame. “Cool trick, that. Very useful.”
“I could teach you, if you want.”
Sirius shakes his head, “I’ve never been very good with fire.”
“Really?” For some reason it surprises her. Sirius is hot headed at best, electric at his worst. She thought it would come naturally to him.
“It’s not…” he bites his lip. “Our parents were killed in a fire. I try to keep my talents away from it.”
“I understand,” Mary smiles softly. “A friend of mine, I lost her. It took me a long time to be comfortable with it again.”
“How did you?” Sirius asks. He’s such a child in this moment. Mary still remembers growing up with him. In that first life. His eyes are so wide, ready to be comforted.
“She understood nature, I guess. She wasn’t afraid to die, so how can I be afraid of what killed her? It isn’t fair to my memories of her.”
“Is she the one that taught you magic?”
“Yes.”
“You must miss her.”
“I do. Every day.” Really she misses all of them. They come back, but it’s not the same. Another thing immortality has taken from her. She never gets to hold onto a moment. There is never forever, and there are never satisfying endings.
All of it just aches.