The Coming From the Shadows Series
Coming From the Shadows: Lydia
Previous Instalments:
- T.I.C: The Crete Disaster – Surviving the Imperium: Morgan’s Escape and Redemption
- Coming From the Shadows T.I.C: Aftermath – Dreadnought and Betrayal: The War Against the Imperium
- Thomas’ Love – Santorini Secrets: Passion and Pain in 1911
- The Imperium Chronicles: The Scars of Crete – The Rise and Fall of the Cult of the Minotaur in Crete
- T.I.C: The Dying Flame – The Dying Flame: A Tale of the Imperium
- T.I.C: William’s War – The Rise of William Smythe: A Dreadnought’s Fury
- CFTS / T.D.C: The Reaper’s Return
Coming From the Shadows
The Imperium Chronicles:
Prelude to Trouble
Background:
Lydia Langdon – a woman born December 21st of 1890, raised by a Sadistic Cultist Father for the first 15 Years of her life, she would learn a basic education during these years providing her basic’s while also being provided the more brutal-education of the Imperium, often though her father’s education would also provide the forced observation of torturing and killing of animals and even people – the Imperium was the overreaching organisation that acted as a unifying voice for various Cultist groups; including the Cult of the Minotaur that Lydia’s father led at the time.
After her escape in 1905 though to reunite with her mother, Lydia would train to become an ‘Anti-Imperium Hunter’ like her mother had been, learning from both her Mother and an Enigmatic figure simply known as ‘The Monk’ – Lydia would learn Eastern and Western fighting styles, learn acupuncture to understand the human body and even strike at pressure-points, she would adapt her earlier education and some of her less developed skills; being able to move not just in shadows, but blending into the crowd – learning to move unseen while in plain sight – Lydia’s innocent appearance helped mask the dangerous weapon she had become.
Adapting to life outside of normal society; Lydia’s tools were often kept hidden in a bag she carried – though her prised Jian Sword would always be visible; strapped tightly against her bag as it hung down against her side with its strap crossing her body.
Amongst Lydia’s other tools would be various basic medical aids, tools for lock-picking, throwing knives and a revolver; she also carried a journal that she had kept since childhood, using it to write down her ‘true’ self, her desperation for normalcy always being written within its pages, though amongst these items was also the usual ‘Box’ a small, intricately designed thing that looked just like any wooden music-box, though there was no obvious signs to open it, its patterns, when inspected more thoroughly would be uneasy on the eyes, and those that had ever managed to get a glimpse of the box always felt as though they couldn’t look at it, like the box did not want to be seen, often, Lydia could hear an eerie whispering emanating from it, whispers that had remained in her mind ever since her escape in 1905.
In 1907; Lydia would encounter a British soldier; Thomas Davidson – initially their interaction was one of distrust for Lydia – but for Thomas, he had taken an immediate liking to her – and over time, he began to break her barriers down, saving her in Egypt from a near-deadly encounter with her older-twin; Elizabeth.
Thomas would again rescue Lydia from a Cultist named; Albert – Albert had captured Lydia in Siam, and in the midst of transporting her to the Cultist bureau in Burma, a French Cultist group had ambushed them leading to Lydia’s near-drowning in a river, Thomas’ subsequent intervention not only saved her, but reinforced her growing feelings towards him – and his decision to fight Albert when Albert finally discover them solidified Lydia’s trust.
Thomas would become a constant companion – His military service providing tactical and military experience to the group Lydia was part of – in 1911 though; Lydia would witness the apparent death of her mother sending her into an emotional breakdown, with her once supressed emotions rushing to the surface.
Fleeing to Santorini; Lydia tried to remain alone – though Thomas had followed, maintaining a respectful distance, ensuring her safety.
It would be there in Santorini that after her emotional volatility Lydia would initiate a physical intimacy with Thomas by kissing him – it would lead to her first sexual encounter, it would be from this encounter and her desire for normalcy – Thomas would take her to Lancaster to meet with his family – encountering Kattie his mother, Solomon, his father then his sister; Nealie and his two brothers Josiah and Charles.
Settling into her own home with Thomas things would become peaceful, and despite her fiery independent nature, often creating tension with other men that would comment, and her influencing of other women simply due to her actions, she settled into a new routine happily, discovering a skill in cooking, and due to her enjoyment, would often share the excess with a nearby shelter, providing meals to children.
Though happiness would not last forever as her past finally came back to haunt her – forcing Lydia back into the fight as she dealt with Cultists causing trouble in her new home of Lancaster, while the encounter would be a devastating one resulting in injuries – her partnership with Thomas was solidified.
Introduction:
It was late March and the wintery chill was still present; a dampness which promised a fickle spring – Lydia, her Long Raven-Dark Hair tied back loosely, moved with a practised quietness through her small kitchen – the floor creaking underfoot as she tied away the remnants of last night, a rhythmic clinking of crockery and cutlery a familiar sound to her solitary morning; though, despite this usual efficiency – there was also a subtle drag, a weariness that had settled deep, something that had settled in over the past few weeks.
The latch of the door clicked causing her to glance over – Thomas, came in to the room, his customary smile was both warm and reassuring as it curved his lips as he saw her “Morning love” he said, his voice a low rumble – crossing the kitchen in a few long strides, he drew her into an embrace; Lydia, momentarily forgot her discomfort as she leaned into his embrace; instinctively, she tilted her head back to loo upwards at him, his lips meeting hers; soft and warm “I’m off now” he said with a smile
Gently nodding her head, she offered a soft smile; though, no sooner had Thomas gone, Lydia felt that same familiar unease as a familiar wave of nausea washed over her; gasping, she spa around, a hand flying up to her mouth as she made a desperate movement for the sink, the world tilting precariously as a violent wave of sickness struck her.
Chapter 1:
The 27th of March, 1912 A.D.
Lancaster, England
The morning sun barely managed to penetrate the gloom of the early hours by the time Nealie Davidson arrived to her Brother and Lydia’s small house along the street – her current boisterous energy was a direct contrast to Lydia’s current state that morning.
Nealie was like a mirror of her brother, her long dark hair loosely bouncing about along her back and her bright blue eyes; at the door, she began to knock, her smile wide as she gently rocked back and forth between her toes and onto her heels; though having no immediate answer – Nealie tilted her head, hesitantly, she checked the door, gently pushing it open once she found it unlocked “Lydia?” she called out, her voice tinged with a slight concern.
Making her way in, Nealie soon found Lydia sitting on the kitchen floor, her back against the cool cupboards, her face pale and draw – the remnants of her recent bout of sickness still lingering “Are you alright Lydia?” Nealie asked, a youthful concern evident as she kneeled down beside her
Lydia managed a weak shrug; her voice raspy “Just…, having one of those funny turns again” she pushed the thought of it being anything more than the residual effects of the injuries she had sustained during her confrontation against Walter weeks ago, it was a familiar habit of denial
Nealie’s brow furrowed “You really should try getting a Doctor Lydia; you’ve been poorly for ages” she offered a hand, and Lydia gratefully took it; with Nealie’s support, Lydia was finally back on her feet, her legs still unsteady, a soft smile touching her lips
“Thank you Nealie” she said softly “We should go before I decide to lay down again” she added with a slight chuckle
The Smythe Estate, Along the River Thames
Elizabeth – the older twin of Lydia, born hours before her in the later hours of December 20th of 1890 – sat behind the desk of the Smythe Manors study, she was going over the documents and paperwork recovered from the recent confrontation against the Cultists in Lancaster – she had watched the way Thomas had carried Lydia out after her fall from the stairs, and her subsequent visits have shown her how vulnerable her sister really is.
Leaning back, she at present splits her attention between her growing concern for Lydia but also the need to keep their mothers Anti-Imperium fight alive; it was 1908 where she had broken from being the ‘Loyal Daughter’ and joined bot her mother and sister along with that Adopted Italian girl her mother had taken in – Norina, she hadn’t seen her since he had disappeared after Crete – Norina shared a twin-like similarity to Lydia, sharing the same Raven-Dark hair and silver-grey eyes, Elizabeth, she was much more like a miniature-female version of her father – sharing their fathers Blonde Hair and Icy-Blue eyes, and if he had not to casually cast Elizabeth aside in Greece after witnessing the weapon Lydia had become, it is very likely she would still be that same ‘Loyal and Devoted’ daughter, instead, she was now rebuilding her relationship with Lydia while trying to keep their mothers mission alive.
“Miss Smythe” a familiar voice called out from the doorway; Elizabeth’s eyes shifted, her gaze landing onto the Loyal Butler; Jacob “I have brought you something to eat, you should not neglect your body” he said gently as he approached, placing down a tray onto the desk, he had already noticed the strange, distant look when he had entered, and she still hadn’t really focused on him despite looking directly at him “What is troubling you?”
“It’s my sister” she said, her eyes momentarily drifting to the meal and drink provided before her gaze returns back to Jacob “There is something wrong with her; both physically and mentally as of late”
“Are you referring to her decision not to choose a more luxurious option regarding your travel to New York in the April?” he queried “Or something more?”
“No; I understand my sisters choice, she has spent so long outside of normal society, it doesn’t really bother her if she was to use luxury or not, no, I mean, as of late she has been showing a decline in her physical health, and she seems to have started getting slower reactions, I am concerned it may impact her when we go after Jack and Bartholomew in America” she explained “Then there is her mental state, emotionally, which…, I get, I understand it; since we lost our mother in Crete, she’s more…, unstable emotionally, I just find it concerning”
“Give her time; there is still plenty of room for change between now and your intended trip to New York” Jacob says, a gentle smile curving his lips “Now, please eat, we shall go over these documents together, and I shall provide you with some further insight of your fathers old operations, I am sure you will find them most useful in your efforts” Elizabeth simply smiled in response before putting the papers in her hand onto the table, turning her attention now to the meal provided
Chapter 2:
Kapsali, Kythira
Away from Britain and back in the mediterranean, Miquel, a Kenyan-Born soldier of the British Empire, and a comrade of Thomas from the same regiment, finally returned back to the safehouse in Kythira; here he had arranged to meet with Norina and her partner; the Former-American Cultist; Erin Mason – despite the unusualness of their same-sex relationship, Miquel had no issue with them, finally having information regarding his scouting operation back in Crete he approached the two in the bac of the safehouse “Right…, I think things have settled enough for us to return back there” he said, leaning against the table
Norina tilted her head, her eyes drifting towards Erin – Erin, she was simply an anomaly amongst their tiny remnant, she hadn’t been present at the time of what had happened on December the 18th, her Long Black Hair stood as a contrast to her pale complexion, it gave her a ghostly ethereal presence, and her emerald green eyes were just simply intimidating, she just made people uneasy by her presence alone, so many times she never needed to actually speak before people would feel threatened, during Norina’s initial encounter with Erin, she had been effected the same way, her innocence and lack of fighting experience made it much more impactful effect against Norina – but, since then and their developing romantic relationship, Norina now found comfort in her presence; she felt safe and protected, Erin shifted her gaze a moment towards Norina, her usual detached expression softening as she gave her a gentle smile before gesturing for her to speak with Miquel – Erin recognised her position as an outsider of the original group even if they had had previous encounters.
Taking her time carefully, thinking on what words to use, Italian being her native language, and English being her second, and even that was with difficulties at times “You…, want return?” she queried “Esplorare” she added
Miquel shifted a moment, he recognised her difficulties with the English language, and his ability to speak her language created a barrier “I think we should go back, check the site of the destruction, just to be certain there isn’t anything we’ve missed”
“If you do; you must ensure her safety” Erin said; her American accent strong, indicating her Wyoming origin; though her tone carried an undercurrent which Miquel believed to be rather threatening, but he also displayed visible confusion
“Are you not going to accompany us?” Miquel shifted his gaze to Erin carefully
“Unfortunately I cannot” she said “My attention is demanded on mainland Greece, I would have brought Norina with me, but, I believe that her presence at this place you all lost so much, may be a better choice; she can find closure”
Miquel, having recently encountered another American in Crete thought on Erin’s words carefully; if Norina wanted closure, it is possible she may find something else entirely; the American, also a former-Cultist from the American ‘Brother’s and Sisters’ of Liberty’ like Erin, a man named ‘Morgan’ he had revealed Cathryn was actually alive, and at present, recovering at a lodging house, slowly, Miquel nodded “I’ll keep her safe” he said with a genuine smile
Lancaster, England
Walking about the bustling market square; Lydia observed Nealie’s bright eyed enthusiasm – her gaze constantly drifting towards a group of young lads nearby practicing with a football, her face alight with yearning, something Lydia understood all too well “I wish I could play” Nealie sighed, her voice laced with frustration “But they never let me; even my friends say I can’t because I am a girl”
Lydia’s gaze softened as she thought carefully for a moment “Shouldn’t make a difference” she said simply
Nealie looked towards Lydia with a raised eyebrow “Why?” she queried
“I’ll let you in on a little secret; my life has been filled with a lot of violence, fighting has usually been a man’s domain, yet, I have fought many and beaten them, trained by men to do so, just because I am a woman, does not mean I can’t fight like men” she gestured a moment to a ball being sold nearby “Just because you’re a girl Nealie; doesn’t mean you can’t do exactly the same as those lads, skills are learned, no matter your gender, no matter your size or build; the most vulnerable of lads could, if with equipped with the right knowledge, could bring down the strongest of men, only look at stories like David and Goliath” Lydia smiled
Nealie smiled as she continued to walk with Lydia around the markets.
Chapter 3:
Lydia and Nealie, deciding to make a stop at the usual haunt of the Davidson family’s local pub, they were greeted with a familiar scent of ale and tobacco as they stepped in, Lydia’s nose wrinkling immediately, the scent becoming almost overwhelming that she placed her hand against the top of her chest as she tried steadying herself a moment.
When she had first visited the pub, it was only due to Thomas’ easy going nature that made it tolerable, since then, she had been adapting more and more to typical mundane life, enjoying simplicity, but as of right now, her senses seemed to be in overdrive – Lydia and Nealie soon found their usual spot towards the back.
Nealie quickly getting up was quick to go to the bar, despite her younger age her frequent visits had made her known to the barman who took notice of her approach and made a gesture to let her know he’d seen her, by the time Nealie had reached the bar, he’d already placed the two glasses down “Here ya go love” he said with a warm smile “Is that partner of your brothers feeling okay, she looks a little…, peaky”
“She says she’s just a bit off today” Nealie said with a warm smile, fishing her hand about within the inside of her jacket to produce some coins; handing them over the barman smiling and nodding “Thank you” she said warmly before taking the two glasses
As they simply enjoyed each other’s company; Lydia shifted her attention after a silence seemed to settle between them “You know…” she began, her gaze drifting about “We could go down to the field if you want, grab a ball and have a bit of fun”
Nealie’s eyes widened “But…, no one will let me play”
Lydia chuckled softly “I’ll play; besides, who says you need permission Nealie; if you want to play, then you do just that”
A slow smile spread across Nealie’s face; the flicker of defiance reigniting.
Later, after they’d finished at the Pub; the two would make a quick detour to collect a sturdy, scuffed football from one of Nealie’s brothers before finding themselves down by the field – the crisp air invigorated Lydia, it was a welcome change from the usual life she was already enjoying.
As they began to kick the ball about; a few curious glances were cast their way; Lydia, with her history of defying traditional norms and expectations; and Thomas’ known support of her independence along with his military service earning him plenty of respect simply meant that most people were content to simply look.
Some of Nealie’s friends, including a boy named Timothy also stopped to watch – a mix of mild curiosity and amusement present.
Suddenly a gruff voice shattered the relative peace; a larger lad, much older than Nealie and only a little older than Lydia herself barged past Timothy, his eyes fixed on the two women and the ball, he radiated an unwelcome aggression, creating a sudden shift in the atmosphere as he stormed towards them.
“Oi!” he bellowed, his voice cutting through the playful thud of the ball “What do you think you’re doing!”
Lydia, startled, turned her head – her silvery-grey eyes meeting his with a flicker of confusion – the casual ease of their game had evaporated, replacing it with unease as the lad grew louder, more confrontational, recently, Lydia had been experiencing a lot of surges in an unusual vulnerability, and this once again sparked that same feeling; she felt the prickle of something akin to fear, a sensation she was not use too.
Nealie sensed the shift in Lydia’s demeanour; her body language clearly tensing up – Nealie moved closer, her smaller hand tentatively reaching out to rest on Lydia’s arm.
Chapter 4:
Emboldened by Lydia’s apparent hesitation moved in closer; he was certainly taller once up close; his swagger was a deliberate attempt to intimidate – when he moved his hand, a clear intention to grab her, Lydia’s instinct finally kicked in.
Her movement was fast – startlingly quick, but, it wasn’t a typical strike she would normal use, instead, she had slapped him, her palm connected with a heavy slap that echoed as skin met skin, sharp and clearly painful as she stepped backwards, forcing Nealie also to step back behind her.
The lad recoiled, his eyes widening in disbelief at the speed and force she had just delivered – but, he also noticed her sudden retreat back from him, she never pressed the advantage, her body posture radiated her unusual aura of panic as it rose, becoming more visible; her chest moved with obvious heavier breathing.
Nealie’s fingers now firmly gripped along Lydia’s arm trying to draw her attention, her brow etched with concern.
The initial shock for the lad finally gave way to a surge of indignant rage – he took Lydia’s retreat as an invitation, marching at her again, his stride purposeful, his intent to intimidate clear; as he loomed over her, his breath hot against her face, she continued to hesitate, she felt trapped by her strange vulnerability
Making a move yet again to grab; there was a sudden harsh grunt of an impact and the larger lad was no longer looming; instead, Thomas was now present in front of the two, he face a mask of controlled fury; he’d spotted what was happening and decided to act.
He had closed the distance very quickly barging the lad with enough force that had sent him sprawling to the ground.
Thomas didn’t spare a second glance at the fallen lad; his immediate concern was Lydia; turning, his movements were swift and urgent; checking her – Lydia’s gaze momentarily fixed on the fallen lad, though she finally drew her attention to Thomas.
A small, uncertain smile touched her lips, a silent avowal of relief; she found herself at a loss for words, Thomas’ eyes canned her face for any sign of harm before casting a brief, dismissive glance to the lad he’d just toppled.
Gently, he took Lydia’s arm “Come on” he said, soft yet firm “Let’s get you both back home” Nealie quickly collected the ball before following as Thomas steered both Lydia and Nealie, staying close – but, their activity and recent ordeal forging a stronger bond between the two women.
Nealie would linger a while longer once at her brother’s house, wanting to just make sure Lydia was alright; Lydia had become somewhat of an idol, and she wanted to ensure her safety before she returned back home – the afternoon sky slowly fading into the approaching darkness.
Written By: Westley H.
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