The Coming From the Shadows Series
Coming From the Shadows: Lydia
The Journey’s Beginning
Previous Instalments:
- The Halls of Power – Behind the Curtains of Power: The Dark Game of Political Intrigue
- Oppression and Vulnerability – Cathryn’s Struggle: Defiance Against Darkness
- Oppression and Vulnerability II – Cathryn’s Struggle: Defiance Against Darkness II
- Peace Shattered – A Night of Violence: Shattered Peace
1905 A.D.
The biting November wind clawed at the shutters of the humble lodgings in Calais; rattling them like skeletal fingers; inside, the air was thick with a scent of damp wool and the simmering of anxieties.
Lydia, just a wisp of a girl, with hair as dark as a raven’s wing and eyes the colour of a winter sky before dawn – she lay still beneath a threadbare blanket, or…, she pretended too.
The hushed voices of her mother; Cathryn and the enigmatic man known only as ‘The Monk’ were a low hum against the background of her ease.
Cathryn was a woman forged by the crucible of relentless opposition; she paced the small room, her own raven-hair mirrored her daughter’s, and the same silvery-grey eyes burned with a fierce protectiveness – but tonight, a weariness lined her face, it was a stark contrast to the unwavering resolve she usually had that defined her.
The Monk; a figure shrouded by quiet mystery sat calmly by the window; his face etched with the wisdom and burdens of countless years was illuminated only by the faint glow of the dying embers of the hearth; he held a telegram in his hand, the paper thin and fragile, like their hope “Perpignan” he said; his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate the very bones of the room “Xian is on his way to Perpignan; we should meet him there”
Cathryn stopped her pacing; her eyes drifting to Xian “I thought he was in Gibraltar?” the look of confusion was evident in her expression
“He was; but when I told him what happened; he decided to travel; he urged we do not delay; with the Imperium, we do not have that luxury, which he has pointed that out” the Monk says, his voice a calm melody
Cathryn’s expression hardened “Without delay?; Perpignan isn’t exactly close, it is a long journey; Lydia is only a child”
“I am aware; but she is a child that travelled alone from the Estate owned by her father, at night I may add, and journeyed to London…” the Monk found himself interrupted
“And she was exhausted” Cathryn stated, the frustration was evident in her voice “She struggled to do that; if I had known what was happening that night; I could have gone and she would not have needed to do that”
The Monk’s eyes flickered to the sleeping girl a moment then back to Cathryn “I know you want to protect her Cathryn; I understand that, and that is why your reluctant to keep her on the move; but the Imperium is coming for you and her, they won’t stop”
Irritation flared in Cathryn’s eyes “I know that!” she snaps “Don’t you think I now that, I just…, I want her to live a normal life; to find the peace she should have, some semblance of normalcy….” Her voice trailed off, unable to articulate the unspoken fear that gnawed at her
Cathryn moved towards the bed; kneeling down beside Lydia and gazed at her daughters serene face; her features were delicate, angelic; belying the darkness that clung to their family, the history of violence and abuse; she knew Lydia, after they had been separated by George; that she Lydia would have been subject to the Imperium’s brutal education, she was already aware of the forced observation of the brutal killing and torturing of animals that caused Lydia to suffer chronic nightmares that caused her to scream into the silent halls of the Smythe Estate – it had broken Cathryn then, and continues to break her now – she has been unable to protect her
Cathryn reached her hand forwards, gently brushing the stray strands of hair from Lydia’s forehead – she then moved, laying down beside her daughter and pulling the blanket upwards; she kept her eyes fixated on her daughter’s face, she desperately wanted to memorize every detail, every curve and every shadow – She would protect her, she vowed, even if it meant sacrificing everything – she would face the Imperium head-on.
Lydia, feigning sleep, felt her mothers presence beside her; the warmth was a comfort, no matter how small it felt against the oppressive fears that had become her constant companion; she longed to open her eyes, to reassure her mother, but she knew she couldn’t – she knew the weight Cathryn carried, the burden of her escape from the Estate and the escape with her mother from London – then, there was also the awareness of her older twin; Elizabeth, who remained with their father – a twisted embodiment of their fathers cruelty.
The Monk observed them both; his expression was unreadable – the urgency in Xian’s telegram had been palpable; the Imperium was increasing its search, it was growing bold; they had begun operating openly in their desperate search for Lydia – the rage of George Smythe at Lydia’s escape, alongside her half-brother; William – the Cult of the Minotaur had called upon its allies in different countries, using their united loyalties to the Imperium to help with the search for Lydia – Like Britain, France was subject to the shadowy grip of the Imperium’s reach.
The Monk closed his eyes; if he’d been a religious man, he would he prayed for the safety of the two women in his care; instead, he just tried to ease the tension in his own thoughts, he needed to get them back on the road, to get them to safety before the Imperium found them.
The scent of dust and spices hung heavy in the Córdoba air, it contrasted significantly with the damp chill in Calais; Xian, a man of quiet dignity with sharp, intelligent eyes, sat at a rough-hewn table in a dimly lit pub; he sat surrounded with a group of weathered Spanish mercenaries – the air itself crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the cheap alcohol that they shared.
“The Imperium…, it is like a plague” one of the Mercenaries, a grizzled veteran named; Aarón spat at the sawdust covered floor “The tendrils reach everywhere; there corruption is seen all over”
“Indeed” Xian replied; his voice remained calm, but there was an edge of grimness that mirrored Aarón’s “I received a telegram from a contact in the Russian Empire; their reach there has spread at an alarming rate; they’ve grown to such a powerful position they operate openly, not sole through Criminal organisations, but as an open organisation themselves; they operate similarly to the Cultist groups in Britain and America”
“I have heard rumour they have begun organising in Japan” another voice adds to the discussion; another of the mercenaries; Calixto
Xian nods “It isn’t surprising” he comments “They must have finally found a way to establish themselves; why it did not happen soon may be due to one strong traditionalist ways they had; but Japan is a changing land now”
“You have caused them a significant setback in your homeland though” an innocent, yet calm voice spoke; Xian looked to the young woman that was present with their group; Elena
“Not enough” Xian replies with an irritated tone “Not like Cathryn had once done, Cathryn has taken up this fight much longer than I have; had she not gotten involved with George, if she had not married him or had children with him; I believe she could have done more than just disruption; but, it is what it is”
Xian took a sip from his glass; his mind was now returning its focus back to the current predicament on Cathryn and her daughter; what the Monk had told him in the telegram; Cathryn was in significant danger with a child in tow – he had to reach them “I should continue on; I need tor each France” Xian said, his expression distant for a moment “I need to get to Cathryn and the Monk”
A murmur rippled through the group “The Imperium’s presence there is strong Xian”
“I am aware” Xian shifted his gaze towards Aarón “I have no choice; Cathryn has a child with her, the telegram from the Monk made it very clear that there was a grave urgency to his request to help”
Unfolding a small, worn map; he traced his fingers along his route, the locomotives so far would prove his fastest means of travel, but, he needed to ensure he remained as close to support as he could; Aarón could see which towns and cities Xian would be near “I can send telegrams to our allies; they can keep a look out for you, help you out if you need it”
Xian slowly nodded his head “This situation is becoming very desperate” he commented quietly; he turned his gaze to Aarón “I need to provide Cathryn and her daughter sanctuary”
Aarón nodded; leaning forwards his eyes narrowed “You are a good man Xian; bring them here, bring them to Spain; we can provide them sanctuary here in this pub”
Xian smiled, he felt a wave of gratitude wash over him; he had known these mercenaries for years; organised with them and provided what supported he could offer when he visited them; they were loyal, courageous and fiercely independent – he knew they would not sit idle when innocent lives were threatened “I am grateful for your offer” Xian said; his face warmed as he thought for a moment, his Spanish wasn’t the greatest by any means, the choice to communicate in English made things easier for all of them, so, as he racked his brain a moment he finally processed the words he wanted “Gracias hermanos y hermanas”
When Xian later stepped out into the night; the wind carried the scent of smoke and the distant sound of music; but, beneath the surface of the vibrant city, he sensed a presence of something darker, something lurking within the shadows – the Imperium was watching, he had to be careful – to be vigilant.
Back in Calais; Lydia had finally drifted into a fitful sleep; her dreams, haunted by the images of pained animals, faceless figures and whispered threats – beside her, Cathryn remained awake; she knew Lydia had finally succumbed to sleep, that she had previously been listening – now though, Lydia’s face had relaxed, despite the turmoil of her dreams, her face made it clear she was finally sleeping – Cathryn fixated on her daughter, her mind was racing with thousands of different scenarios.
She knew that the Monk in the end was correct; she was reluctant, if she kept delaying, the Imperium would catch them – she wanted Lydia to live in safety, but the realities of her and Lydia’s connection would make such a desire near-impossible – she would need to teach Lydia to survive.
She knew what Lydia had gone through; the trauma, the pain; she decided that while she needed to train Lydia; she would do things differently, she would not force or punish; she would use the same methods provided to her – the Monk, he could help her.
She sighed, a sound of heavy resignation; all she could do is prepare Lydia, but in a way that would not scar her further than what she already was; she would teach her to defend, to fight – Lydia already knew what the Imperium was – but, Cathryn would offer something else in her efforts; she would offer Lydia hope.
As the first rays of dawn began to creep through the shutters; Cathryn finally felt her eyes growing heavy; exhaustion pulled her under – even as she fell asleep, her hand remained protectively clasped around Lydia’s, a silent promise she would not let her go.
Written By: Westley H.
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