The Coming From the Shadows Series
Coming From the Shadows: Lydia
Previous Instalments:
- The Growth of the Old Oak: Part 1 – Secrets of the Imperium: Chronicles of the Mason Family
The Growth of the Old Oak
2
Introduction Sequence:
October, 1905
Calais, France
The grimy air of Calais seemed to cling to the lungs like a shroud; Morgan, an American alongside his siblings, had just arrived for the first time in Europe; within France – the first time they had ever left their home country.
As Morgan stepped off the gangplank of the Ocean Liner bridging the distance between New York and France – the thud of his boots against the cobblestone was very different against the ship surface that he had just been spending the past week on, he scanned the bustling port, a knot of unease tightening in his gut; America felt like a distant dram, a gilded cage that he’d willingly left behind for this assignment.
Behind Morgan was Jakob; he was a much more calming and emotionally controlled individual compared to the pragmatic Cultist his older brother; Morgan was – Jakob quietly took in the scene before him “Smells…., different” he remarked, a faint smile played on his lips “A little…, ripe.., maybe?”
Then, there was Erin; the youngest of the Mason siblings; she emerged last, her pale complexion gave her an almost ethereal look that contrasted with the drab background of their surroundings; her long dark hair cascaded down her back like a Raven’s wing, caught within the gentle breeze – her green eyes, the same shade as her older brother Morgan, but were somehow colder – they swept over the scene, she didn’t speak.
Morgan knew though that Erin was taking it all in, absorbing the atmosphere with a strange, unsettling intensity.
These siblings had accepted a request made by their mother; they had crossed the Atlantic to follow a mission of importance to the Imperium; their mother; Isabelle who had vouched for her children’s skill to the Leader of the Imperium; Victor.
Victor who they briefly met in New York as an enigmatic figure, the Leader of the Imperium, and oversaw its Global reach, connecting various Cultists groups across the world.
Their mother; Isabelle – a woman of both delicate beauty and iron will had entrusted them, spoke highly of their skill; she had convinced Victor to allow them to acquire the recently discovered Artefact discovered in Southern Europe; within the Balkans – a Relic that Isabelle hinted to her children held immense ancient power that would be of importance to the eventual discovery of a Prison that could release the Celestial master that the Imperium was trying to find in hopes of one day freeing him.
Chapter 1:
The French Cultist Bureau
The Roosters
The meeting between American Cultist Siblings and the French Cultist too place within a nondescript building at the heart of Calais – the scent of stale tobacco and old parchment filled the senses; here a group of Frenchmen, all dressed in similar drab attire had awaited their arrival.
These Cultists had become known as ‘The Roosters’ due to their choice of emblem; these Cultists were, like the American branch of the Imperium also connected – they were fiercely loyal, a strong relationship had been built between the French Cultist leaders with the Imperium’s Leader; Victor, they were also fierce rivals against the British Cultists; The ‘Cult of the Minotaur’ who’s power had previously reigned unchecked due to their leader; George Smythe – a man who had used his wealth and power to control affairs even against the Imperium’s leader Victor – things though had changed.
Word had spread of William and Lydia Smythe; George’s son and daughter, had set fire to the Smythe Estate, its effects had been immediate – George’s reputation had collapsed, and his Business Empire was currently struggling to reorganise – the Imperium was now seizing back control from George.
René, the leader of the ‘Roosters’, a man with a neatly trimmed Mustache and a predatory gleam in his eyes, greeted them with a curt bow “Bienvenue mes amis” he greeted, his tone polite “We have been expecting you”
Morgan, ever the stoic leader; stepped forwards, he held his hand forwards to shake with René “We appreciate your hospitality; my mother assured us that you had the information we came seeking regarding the artefact”
Shaking Morgan’s hand; René gestured to the table; it was cluttered with various maps and documents “Indeed” he said “We have exchanged information with our Bulgarian partners within the region; La tempe that has been discovered seems to predate the Roman Empire”
Jakob, usually reserved interjected “What of the artefact though?; what do you know of it”
René pursed his lips a moment; then looked to another cultist clicking his fingers impatiently; a worn leather journal was brought over that René took, his eyes turning to Jakob “All the information has been recorded in this; sketches of its layout, we have some translations, but there are still things that elude our understanding…, and then there is this…” reaching for a yellow page; it was out of place amongst all other documents, as he turned it to display its content, it was simply a display of strangely written markings with a hastily but rather well sketch of some kind of crystal-shaped object “They claimed it pulsed with some kind of energy; only recently has it begun to display this strangeness; when it was first discovered, it looked nothing out of the ordinary” he explained, an unease in his voice “But, since February to now, it has been glowing, pulsating; when once it was approachable, now it isn’t, how you intend to collect it, I do not know, nor do I know how you’ll get it back to your homeland”
While Morgan and Jakob exchanged strange looks to one another; they decided to begin examining the documents, pouring over them – Erin though, she remained silent, her gaze fixed on René; her pale complexion and dark hair giving her an almost spectral appearance, and her green eyes bore into the soul – the French Cultists shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
“She…, doesn’t speak much does she?” René whispered to Morgan, a hint of unease in his voice
Morgan merely offered a tight smile “Erin has her own way of processing information; try not to underestimate her”
Erin’s silence was a weapon; a tool she wielded with unconscious mastery; years of childhood steeped in the Imperium’s teachings had left her with a unique perspective of the world; she could see patterns and connections others couldn’t – discover hidden truths that others missed, and she wasn’t afraid to look into the abyss.
The meeting continued for a few hours longer before the Mason siblings finally departed; they had what was needed, information on potential dangers, possiblie allies and rivals – only one name stuck out as a threat, a Russian Anti-Cultist that had begun operating in the Balkans recently ‘Khariton’
Chapter 2
Shadows of Calais
The streets of Calais were like a labyrinth for the siblings as they navigated the alleyways; they walked in silence as they began their journey back to their lodgings; the weight of their assignment hung heavy on their shoulders.
Suddenly though; a strange figure emerged from the shadows – he was dressed like that of a Tibetan Monk; his dark robes, with a hood raised over his head, he moved with ease and an almost delicate grace as he passed by them, not even once giving them a glance – his presence sent a shiver down Morgan’s spine, there was simply something off about the strange – he was out of place, like someone that did not belong within this world “Did you see that guy?” Morgan murmured to Jakob
Jakob shrugged “Just some monk; probably looking for handouts or something”
Erin though; her eyes narrowed; fixated on the retreating figure, without a word, she detached herself from her brothers and began following the Monk.
Morgan raised his eyebrow in confusion “Erin!; Where are you going?” he questioned; his voice laced with concern – she didn’t answer though, simply disappeared into the distance
Morgan sighed “Let her be” Jakob commented ”She’ll be back; she always comes back”
Erin followed the Monk; she moved after him as his manoeuvred through the winding streets – her senses on high alert, he was moving with purpose, and while he seemed ignorant of Erin following, he was in truth; fully aware of her, he simply paid her little interest, he saw her as no threat – and besides, he was already being observed by another set of eyes, that would no doubt have also taken notice of Erin as he finally reached what became clear as his destination; a dilapidated lodging house.
While the Monk went inside without hesitation; Erin stopped, she did hesitate for a moment – though only briefly before she slipped inside, the air was heavy, the stench of mildew, urine and despair; shadows danced in the corners, and silence broken by the occasional sob or cough.
Erin moved through the building like a ghost; her senses sharp until she began to become distracted; she had lost track of the monk almost immediately amidst the tangle of corridors and stairways, the place was simply a maze – a breeding ground for the forgotten souls and…, for secrets.
She encountered scenes that would horrify most people; though, her upbringing had prepared her for such things – she found families huddled together in squalor, faces gaunt with hunger, addicts hiddled in dark corners as they smoked opium into blissful oblivion.
Erin observed all this with a detached curiosity; she felt no pity, only a strange sense of fascination – these people lived on the edge of the abyss, teetering on the brink of oblivion, she found a morbid pleasure in witnessing their slow decay.
When Erin finally realised she had lost the Monk; she finally decided to turn around; though she came to discover she hadn’t been alone this entire time; she had been followed by someone she hadn’t even noticed – they had been following since she had entered, observed her when she first came in view of the building – this strange, a girl of her own age; around fifteen observed Erin with an almost distant look in her eyes.
A Few Minutes Before the Monk’s Return
Since their escape from London, following a night of violence earlier in the month; Cathryn and her daughter Lydia had come to Calais with the intention of travelling further south, to meet with Cathryn’s former ally; a Chinese national from Manchuria; Xian – Lydia had only recently woken up, the intention of travelling at night made for a rather disruptive sleeping pattern, as she tied her long Raven-Dark hair back, her silvery-grey eyes had already locked onto the Monk outside in the streets.
She observed carefully; he wasn’t alone either; tilting her head, an unreadable expression crossed her features, slowly she got up and departed from the room, Cathryn, was use to this; Lydia had taken an interest in interacting with some of those they had met, so, she didn’t say anything as Lydia left the room.
Chapter 3
The Distant Look
When Erin turned; she discovered she hadn’t been alone the entire time; while she had lost the Monk – someone else had been keeping her under observation during her entire exploration – her eyes had locked onto Erin, her expression was unreadable, but – despite usually being the one to create an air of intimidation, as she looked at this girl who looked around her own age; she felt a shiver of intimidation along her own spine.
It intrigued Erin more though about how she had felt even a sliver of intimidation – this girl did not look as though she belonged with her present surroundings, she was too clean; untouched by the grime that permeated the building “You are not from here” Erin said; her voice soft – but it made it clear she herself was not French due to her American accent – this was the only moment the girl displayed any change in expression
Lydia was now curious as she heard Erin speak; her eyes though looked her up and down carefully “Who are you?” she questioned while her own voice was equally as quiet, it was firm; it was also not a French accent; she sounded English to Erin, though from where, she didn’t know it seemed like a Southern English accented laced with a mix of Cockney and Lancastrian making her accent rather unique
“Just someone passing through” Erin replied; she could see though she didn’t believe that “You are not French; you have a rather strange English accent” she commented
“Obviously” Lydia said; her voice tight, there was however a mix of curiosity and guardedness within her voice
“What is a British Girl doing here in France?” Erin questioned; slowly moving forwards, but also shifting towards the side, almost as if she is examining Lydia
“My own business” Lydia replied simply; her tone became devoid of emotion – Erin sensed she was now hiding her emotions to prevent her from being able to read her tone, that, to Erin indicated someone that had been trained, trained to prevent people from reading ones tone of voice to detect lies and truths
“Interesting” Erin commented “A British girl, Someone that is capable of moving amongst shadows without being detected, doesn’t want people reading her emotions through her words; and the unreadable expression you are maintaining; you are an enigma”
Lydia kept her eyes locked on Erin carefully.
Erin then let her lips curve; her smile was equally beautiful yet terrifying “You’re cute”
The comment finally broke through Lydia’s expression; she looked genuinely confused, taken aback by the compliment “Uh…, what?”
Erin didn’t explain; she simply maintained her smile “Take care” she said, slowly moving past Lydia “I would hate not being able to encounter you again” she added before walking off, leaving Lydia observing her fleeting form.
Erin would rejoin her siblings at their own lodgings; upon entering, Morgan looked over “Where did you go?” he demanded, his voice tight with concern
“Just taking a walk” Erin answered, her voice nonchalant
“You can’t just disappear like that” Morgan retorted “We have a mission to complete; we can’t be distracted”
“I wasn’t distracted” Erin said; her eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity “I was observing; I saw something…, interesting”
Erin didn’t elaborate further; leaving Morgan and Jakob to wonder what she had seen; what secrets had been uncovered within the shadows of Calais.
The artefact in the Balkans though was their main priority – and that was were their focus had to remain.
Written By: Westley H.
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