Sarah gathered up on her feet. "Listen," she said, catching her breath. "Don't give up. Tell me, please, is there any unique or specific symbol of your family?"

"No," he said with contempt.

"Because they're some flowers carved in here. Lucky for you, I have quite the information on this subject. Let's see: Iris, Chrysanthemum, Tulip, some random flower...is that Orchid? And another random flower I don't know." The eyes of hers squinted when her mind put two and two together. "These are—"

"Indeed. National flowers of different countries. Choose thistles," Nathan said.

"But that's not of England. So you're from Scotland."

"My North England accent may have had put the deduction of me being from England. I just spent most of my life there." He said those words as if he'd collapse anytime.

"So Scottish man, for your country we have: Tina Mendez, Sebastian Winchester, Mindy Lopez, Joe Jean, Rosalind Wil—"

"That's my mother's," Nathan snapped with a heavy grimace in his vocal. "Disclose it."

Sarah felt morbid opening the coffin after having knowledge of the truth of this being Nathan's mother's coffin. When she opened it a loud grunt and creaking sound followed the moist and dusty fragrance of an empty coffin. Sarah's face took a disconcerted turn when she saw six boxes with different names engraved on it lying where a woman was supposed to.

"Read them," Nathan instructed when she told him what she'd see.

"The first one reads: Compulsion of Heaven; second one: Compulsion of sight and auditory; third one: Compulsion of being; and fourth one: Compulsion of insanity."

" I don't understand this," she added as a personal opinion.

Nathan swallowed. He comprehended this puzzle in no time. The order went by as Mother, Mark, Nathan and Joseph. Mother—the compulsion of Heaven; as in birth as a Witch. Compulsion of sight and auditory was for Mark. Compulsion of being was for Nathan, and Compulsion of insanity was for Joseph. "Take the former most."

"Is that your story?"

"It's my"—he inhaled—"my mother's. You'll live if you take that and die with hard-heartedness if selected any other." Terminals didn't have to breathe but Nathan inhaled and exhaled for emphasis. It was one of the remaining human qualities in him.

Sarah obeyed him and opened the box saying "COMPULSION OF HEAVEN" only to find another mini silver chest inside. When she opened it by its hook, her eyes were compelled to shut close and saw:

It was a sunny day. Three children—two of age of around six and one of four, playing around in the huge open field near a shackled little house. Sarah at once recognised the four year to be Nathan (he looked super adorable). They were playing with a baby who appeared to be probably a year old. All the time she could hear the tranquil, soothing sound of water forming ripples deducing a nearby water body.

"And that must be his sister with whom I have some sort of mystical connection." Sarah thought (even in her thoughts, there was sarcasm). But the laughter and sweet noise of the kids made all her sarcasm fade away.

Oh, there was a mother too. She looked a little young for being mother to not two yet four children. Covering her light blue eyes, were the eyelashes as delicate as humanly possible. She had very straight hair and her face was equally curved at the edge, as it was flat on the forehead. Her lips were slightly pink and slim just like Nathan's. The family resemblance was too much. Dark green sparks busted out of the tips of her fingers of each hand and all the dried leaves fallen on the ground, begun to float in the air around her children. "Right, their mother was a Witch," Sarah thought. She heard a huge ripple, this time perhaps a wave, coming all over her and taking her away with it.

***

Sarah's eyes flickered open and she landed into reality. She felt a hot burning sensation of pain in legs; they itched with an unendurable pain and urge in her legs. She looked up. Nathan's hands were on her shoulders; he was shaking her awake. They were in a very cramped and confined corner of a hall. She looked around: there was a massive blaze of fire spreading across the room. She couldn't sense her mind let alone her body. It was as though she'd been thrown into a parallel universe. Sarah was acknowledging all the movements but they were not resting themselves in her coherence, they were simply and elegantly sliding off. Nathan was pulling her upwards by his hands and saying some unintelligible words; all she could hear was that crackling and popping sound of fire. Barely in her consciousness, she was forced to her feet. The fire was reaching her ankle and it wasn't being sweet to her.

"Look at me. You wouldn't die but you have to stay conscious," Nathan said. His feet were covered with fire but he couldn't feel anything. Terminal, huh.

Asking her to stay awake was like asking a second-grader to do trigonometry.

His eyes shrunk and appeared to be pleading.

She gave a small shriek and nodded her head with reluctance. "I can barely keep my eyes unclosed."

"I know you're vexed. Here you go, ask me questions. I'll engage you."

She scoffed and heard him say, "No, it's alright. Only if this diverts your mind. And don't make eye contacts with the fire beneath. Look at me, and have your eyes open."

He gave her a slight nod and a short closed-mouth smile—something he didn't usually did so she listened to him and rested her eyes into his and as her eyes sunk in his, her agitated mind rendered shelter in his melodious voice.

"This is a little bit, no, no, extremely personal," Sarah started. "When I opened your mother's coffin, I saw a vision, more like your mother's flashback."

She took some courage. She didn't want to look at Nathan while asking, although he'd asked her to, probably because she didn't want to see his reaction, so her eyes rested on the marble floor, and said, "There were four of you, you and your siblings. How did you all separate?"

She decided to look at him now.

It wasn't incommodious for Nathan to go on with this and nor was it so feasibly convenient. It was a subject he did not take up that often. But Sarah was in this awful and piercing pain because of him, so he needed to do anything that would divert her. "The truth is that I was never meant to be a Terminal. I never belonged to this breed. Ever," Nathan thought.

***

Thank you so much for reading till here. It really means a lot to me.

The special reason for posting today, on the seventh day of the month of June, is that today is Nathan Wilson's birthday!!!!!! 

Question: As today is Nathan's birthday, what would be the one sentence you'd like to say to him if you ever got a chance to meet him? (Of course they do exist and this story is not fiction. You didn't ever think it was, now did you?) Don't worry about being cringe or unrelatable or weird, 'cause Sarah would love to see Nathan being being all puzzled and freaked out, LOL.

 And do wish him, guys. 

Blimey, one week is a pretty long time! I know that I shouldn't be changing the schedule so much but you all will be glad to know that I'd be posting new chapters EVERY TUESDAY, THURSDAY AND SUNDAY! (Today was an exception because of the special occasion.) Because of the time differences, I'll also be letting you people know the date beforehand. 

Date for next upload (for me today is Monday, 7/06/21): Thursday, 10/06/21

My answer for the pervious chapter's question: Without any second thoughts, it's literature. More than the vocabulary, it's the way things are expressed. If you'd read classics, you'd know what I'm saying!

Have a lovely day!

***

Please DO NOT promote plagiarism AT ALL. It is a punishable offence. If you do, serious action may be taken against you.

***