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Bela had never been so hot before.
Delirious and fever-stricken, she squirmed on her bed, desperately trying to escape the burning heat inside of her. It was like she was laying in the hot sand of a desert, slowly being fried by the sun that wasn’t there. Because she was in her bedroom, shrouded by dim shadows, and the only light was coming from a singular gas lamp on her desk, flickering faint yellow-gold across the floor. But it was so hot, the blankets like plains of fire on her skin, doing little to bring her any comfort.
A soft moan managed to escape Bela’s flaking lips. Her mouth was dry, tongue like burnt coals. She desperately needed water--not even blood, but nice, cold water--but she couldn’t get up. She could barely even move aside from her twisting and turning in a vain attempt to get comfortable.
Her breath came out thin, reedy, and too-hot. She thought she could spout flames, maybe. She had to be burning alive.
There was a squeak as her bedroom door creaked open. She pried open her heavy eyelids to see two silhouettes creeping towards her bed. She instinctively bared her teeth and spat at the trespassers, too weak to raise her claws to defend herself.
“Someone is cranky,” teased a voice.
Wait-- she knew that voice.
Bela settled as her sisters perched on the edge of the bed.
“Sorry,” she rasped, her voice weak and hoarse from illness. “I’m kinda delirious.”
“Kinda?” Cassandra raised an amused eyebrow. “Do you know what you were doing before you passed out earlier?”
“Do I want to know?” Bela asked nervously.
Daniela helpfully supplied her with details: “You were all wobbly and Mother set a hand on your shoulder and said it was to keep you from falling. Your response was, ‘It’s okay, five-second rule.’”
Bela’s face flushed red--redder than it already was than her fever. “Oh--”
Daniela didn’t relent: “And then you started stroking Mother’s arm hair and said, ‘You’d make such a good carpet.’”
“Okay, that’s enou--”
“You also said, ‘my bones feel wet, may I have a napkin?’”
“Daniela--”
“Oh, and we can’t forget, while at breakfast and you were still trying to act like you were okay: ‘Coffee doesn’t taste like coffee, but it sure does taste like brown.’”
“Okay, okay!” Bela yelped, then coughed into her blankets. “I get it. I was out of it.”
“Very out of it,” Cassandra said, stroking her claws through Bela’s sweaty hair. Bela, rationalizing that she couldn’t get any more embarrassed than she already was, leaned her head into her sister’s touch, letting out a soft purr of contentment. Cassandra’s talons were nimble and uncharacteristically gentle against her burning scalp.
“Where is Mother?” Bela asked.
“Aww, are we not good enough company for you, Beli?” Daniela teased playfully.
“I didn’t say that!” Bela squeaked. She hunched her shoulders in. “I was just wondering.”
“Somewhere around here,” Cassandra said vaguely. “She’ll probably come to check on you soon.”
Bela nodded sluggishly. Her head was beginning to fill with fog again. “Alright…” she murmured.
“Aww,” Daniela cooed. “She’s getting all silly again.” She reached out and lightly dragged her claws down one of Bela’s clammy cheeks, probably thinking she was being comforting, when really her touch was just ticklish.
Bela bared her teeth at her, though she barely opened her eyes. “Shut it.”
Daniela tittered.
“Well, we’ll let you rest,” Cassandra said, tugging on Daniela’s arm.
“Sleep well!” Daniela said as she was pulled out of the room.
“Thanks,” Bela replied.
The door shut and she was left in darkness once again.
Bela rolled onto her side and curled up in her blankets. A moment later, she rolled onto her other side, but it did little to help her discomfort. Her body was aching all over and no position was good enough.
Outside, the wind was howling. Another snowstorm was blowing in, loud and powerful. She turned over again to watch the snowfall. The snowflakes flew like dozens of little whiteflies behind the glass, twisting and twirling through the air. It made her think of her own flies, and she broke off a piece of her skin into a cluster of insects. She was desperately lonely and wanted something to interact with since she didn’t have her sisters or mother there with her.
With blurry eyes, Bela watched dazedly as her insects flew around her head. She held out a finger and they lined up on it in a perfect arrangement: blowfly, flesh fly, dogbane beetle, Spanish fly, black vine weevil, drain fly, green bottle fly, clothes moth, click beetle, room spinning, ears ringing, eyes shutting…
Bela’s head jerked back when she began to nod off, sending her bugs into a scattering cloud of frantic wingbeats. She blinked her eyes furiously, but it did little to dispel the fuzziness over everything. It was like she was looking underwater. She rubbed her heavy eyelids, and moving her arms was like trying to move solid beams of lead.
Her fever flared. She moaned weakly in pain.
Her skin was baking, boiling right off of her bones. Her limbs were sacks of heated stones and smoldering embers that she had to drag around with her, and her ears simply felt like they were lit on fire. Her cheeks felt like someone was holding hot iron to the sides of her face and wouldn’t let go, no matter how loud she screamed.
To put it simply, she was like a roasted lamb on a spit, rotating slowly above hungry flames. Sometimes, she had fallen into their orange-gold mouths. She could almost feel the flaming tongues licking at her skin…
Bela squirmed, whining faintly. She couldn’t handle this. She couldn’t take this heat. She used to think the cold was bad, but this-- this was just awful.
She had to escape it.
As though beckoning her, the blizzard howled.
Bela raised her head--which was rather difficult, as it felt like it weighed a ton--and squinted. The snow usually wasn’t very enticing, but something about it now seemed to call to her. It was inviting her to join its cool embrace, promising to soothe her raging fever. She had to oblige to it.
Sliding out of bed, Bela staggered towards the window. The glass was cool against her palms when she pressed her hands to it, but felt even better on her burning forehead. She let out a sigh of relief as the chill invaded her, but it wasn’t good enough. She needed more. She needed to be rid of this fire inside of her.
Bela pushed against the window. It didn’t budge. She whined and pushed harder. It still didn’t budge. Mother kept them locked for good reason, but Bela needed to get out now. She felt like she was being cremated and didn’t know how much longer she could handle it.
Finally, after a few moments of desperate struggling, the window relented under her assault and she was embraced by the soothing cold. It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. It felt…nice.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Bela relaxed her body and shut her eyes to rest.
Alcina was alerted by the sound of glass shattering. She had been idly flipping through a book when she heard the horrendous smashing sound. Instantly, she snapped to her feet and began striding down the hallway until she got to Bela’s room. Upon opening the door, she was greeted by a blast of cold air, which was as freezing as the black ice that suddenly sprinted through her veins.
“Bela?” Alcina shouted. Stepping inside, she noticed that the window was broken open and her eldest daughter was nowhere to be seen. “Bela?!”
Alcina rushed over to the crater created in the glass and looked out. Despite the darkness of the night, she could still distinctly make out the figure of Bela in the snow below.
She didn’t look like she was moving.
“Bela!!”
Alcina ran out of the room, where she was promptly met by her other two daughters. They both instantly leaped away from the doorway with yelps when the cold wind brushed against their legs. She quickly shut the door.
“Mother, what happened?” Cassandra asked.
“Stay here,” Alcina said instead of answering. She then turned and sprinted down the hallway and outside, nearly clipping her head on the doorframe.
When she found Bela, she may have been more concerned about her falling from the second-story window if it wasn’t for how leached her skin was. Her eldest daughter was icy to the touch, her skin as brittle as weak glass in the unforgiving cold. Alcina scooped her up into her arms, holding her close to her chest to protect her from the vicious lashing of the snowstorm as she carried her back inside.
Bela had been out there for less than three minutes, but Alcina’s mind was still running in panicked circles. Was it enough to kill Bela? Was her baby girl about to die in her arms? Alcina’s heart seized at the mere thought of losing one of her daughters. She frantically went over her own notes in her head: the flies generally began hibernating at temperatures below ten degrees Celsius, and it was definitely below ten degrees Celsius out there. When that happens, their metabolism drops and they go into a state of lethargy, which then causes extreme weakness and fatigue. There was also the pain and sensitivity that came from the cold, and though Bela didn’t seem like she was in freezing agony, Alcina still couldn’t be too sure.
It was then that Bela stirred, and Alcina snapped her head down. Bela was squirming in her arms, whining ever so faintly. She didn’t seem to be in pain, she just seemed distressed and very uncomfortable.
“Mother,” Bela panted. “Please--”
“It’s alright now, my love,” Alcina said, carrying Bela over to one of the many fireplaces in the castle, swiping up a blanket folded over a cushioned chair as she went. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” She squeezed her daughter close to her chest, not quite realizing that she may have been smothering her. “It’s okay. Mother’s here now.”
“No-- no--” Bela tried to wiggle out of her grasp, but she was much too weak. “Hot-- too hot--”
Alcina frowned. She had been wondering how and why Bela got outside, but now it made sense.
Was her fever really that bad?
“You can’t be cold, darling,” Alcina said, crouching down in front of the fire, not releasing Bela from her vice. She wrapped her in the blanket, despite her wriggling. Under her touch, Bela's skin was still worryingly frigid and dry. She hoped the snow wouldn't leave blisters. “You must stay warm.”
“No--” Bela’s claws tugged feebly at Alcina’s dress. If it weren’t caused by illness, then it may have been cute. “Mother, please…”
Alcina sighed. She shifted Bela into one arm (it wasn’t exactly hard to do) and brushed her sweaty hair out of her face. Bela leaned into the touch, her eyelids fluttering shut. She purred faintly.
“You need to be warm,” Alcina told her. As hard as it was to resist her child’s begging, she couldn’t just go throw Bela out into the snow. She had to keep her near the fire, where her body could go back to its normal temperature.
Alcina cupped the back of Bela’s head and pressed her face into her neck, rocking her slowly. She should have kept a better eye on her. She should have been there, taking care of her. Now an awful chill had taken lodge in her precious daughter’s body and she was worried that it wasn’t going to come out.
“Mother?”
Alcina turned to see Cassandra and Daniela. They both looked simultaneously curious and worried.
“Is Bela okay?” Daniela asked.
“She will be,” Alcina answered, holding Bela closer until she was holding onto her like a baby koala bear. She was hoping her body heat would help dispel the ice inside of Bela’s own being. “Your sister thought it would be a good idea to break her window and go out into the snow.”
“I’m hot,” Bela whined. She quickly followed her words up with a purr as Alcina stroked her hair.
Daniela giggled. “Beli, I thought you were the smart one!”
“‘M gonna…turn you into a ceiling fan,” Bela growled without opening her eyes. “But…too tired… Maybe later…”
Daniela giggled again. Cassandra snorted into her hand. Even Alcina, despite her worry, couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Darlings, can you get a wet rag for me?” Alcina asked her other two daughters.
Bela chuffed against her neck.
“A moderately cold one. But not too cold. Just slightly below lukewarm. Please.”
Cassandra and Daniela both nodded and raced off to retrieve the item before the other.
Slowly, the cold was draining from Bela’s body, chased away by the tag-team effort of the fire and Alcina’s body heat. Her fever, however, quickly became apparent once again, searing right through the back of her gown and into Alcina’s hand while she rubbed up and down her spine. No wonder she had broken a window just to get outside; she was burning up.
“I’m sorry for not keeping a better eye on you,” Alcina said, shifting her daughter in her arms. “I should have been watching you to make sure this never happened. Though, I never expected you to break a window…”
“Not your fault,” Bela said, her breath hot against Alcina’s neck. “I was being stupid.”
Alcina leaned her back slightly, cupping the back of her head with one hand. “Are you slightly more awake now?”
“A little,” Bela said, her eyes glassy and half-lidded. “Feel like I’m on fire, though…”
Alcina frowned and tucked Bela back against her. She worriedly ran her fingers through Bela’s hair, which was damp with a mix of sweat and melted snow.
“I’m sorry I can’t do more for you, my darling,” Alcina said. “Damn, why did you and your sisters have to be weak to the cold? I would run you an ice bath if that didn’t put you at the risk of--” She didn’t finish that sentence. She shook her head. “Why flies? Why something that can’t survive in the cold? Why not something like-- like-- like birds!”
“Better than being hurt by heat,” Bela pointed out. “Then the fever probably would have killed me already.”
Alcina winced. “I suppose you’re right.”
“‘Course I am. ‘M the smart one.”
That got a small chuckle out of Alcina. “Your hubris is showing, darling.”
“No, yours is,” Bela mumbled, drifting off into a feverish, half-awake daze of slurring and purring.
Despite her remaining worry, Alcina couldn’t help but chuckle once again. She rocked Bela slowly until Cassandra and Daniela returned with the rag, Daniela being the one to present it to her. She thanked them, then shifted Bela in her arms so she could wipe her face down with it. Bela shuddered at the cold water on her heated skin, but let out a soft coo of pleasure.
“Thank you,” Bela whispered, cracking open her eyes slightly.
Alcina gave her a tender smile. “You’re welcome. Now, rest, my sweet girl. I will watch over you until you feel better.”
Afterward, she would make arrangements to strengthen the windows.