The Coming From the Shadows Series
Previous Instalments:
- C.F.T.S / Cathryn’s Chronicles: The Pain of Servitude – The Dark Legacy of Cathryn: A Tale of Survival
- C.F.T.S / The Cathryn Chronicles: The Hunters Return – The Cathryn Chronicles: Hunters and Shadows
Connected Instalments:
- T.I.C: The Legacy A Lost War – The Rise of the Imperium: A Dark Legacy Unfolds
- T.I C: Jesse – The Imperium Chronicles: A Hunter’s Vengeance
- T.I.C: The Seeds of Servitude – The Seeds of Servitude: A Dark Tale of the Imperium
- C.F.T.S / T.I.C: The Dying Fire of Resistance – The Imperium’s Dark Chronicles: Dying Fire of Resistance
- C.F.T.S / T.I.C: Cathryn – The Imperium’s Dark Secrets: Unveiling Cathryn’s Nightmare
- 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
- The Seeds of Rebellion – The Journey from Timidity to Rebellion: Lydia
- Peace Shattered – A Night of Violence: Shattered Peace
- The Journey’s Beginning – Facing the Imperium: A Mother’s Fight for Her Child
- The Imperium’s Chronicles: A Tale of Resistance
- T.I.C: Struggle between Duty and Fascination – Cult of the Minotaur: Secrets of Betrayal and Rebellion
C.F.T.S
The Cathryn Chronicles:
The Collapse
Background:
A darkness unfolded in Victorian England crafting a life of misery for Cathryn Langdon – born on December the 21st of 1872, the same day that a purge of the Anti-Imperium ‘Hunters’ would occur under the Cultist Leader; Elias Smythe, that event in a Farmstead East of Lancaster would lead to the Langdon family; Cyril and his wife; Evelyn who was still reeling from giving birth, were forced to flee with the aid of a mysterious figure simply known as ‘The Monk’ – the Langdon Family would find themselves isolated in Kings Langley where they would raise their daughter; Cathryn until the age of 14 – unfortunately, her training and education would be left incomplete, though she would be found and rescued by Anne Smythe – the cousin of the Cult of the Minotaur’s new Leader; George Smythe.
Bringing Cathryn to the Smythe Estate a Private and Separated Estate far from London along the south-side along the mouth of the River Thames it was a blend of opulence and dystopia – for Cathryn though, it became a refuge, Anne; with her maternal-drive towards Cathryn, would adopt her, but her action to bring her to the Estate would unfortunately introduce her to George Smythe – a Sadistic and Depraved Cultist leader and member of the Imperium’s Council – the Imperium itself being a unifying body that had existed since the days of Ancient Greece that acted in the shadows to manipulate Governments for centuries while searching for a Dark Ancient Celestial Master’s prison with intentions to free him and unleash him upon humanity.
While Anne provided warmth and comfort to the orphaned Cathryn – the return of the mysterious Monk would resume Cathryn’s training as a ‘Hunter’ – providing her lessons in Chemicals to create poisons, provide her with a blending of fighting techniques between the usual approach in the West with Martial traditions of the East, but the most important skills he would provide would be acupuncture – teaching her to turn healing into a lethal way to fight; teaching her about pressure points; a weapon that Cathryn would become skilled in would be a traditional Kukri Knife.
Cathryn would begin following her ‘Hunters’ heritage in 1887 – and George, who had been aware of her training, subtly encouraged it – he had become aware of Cathryn’s infatuation towards him and intended to mould her – he would drop subtle hints regarding Cultist leaders, targets that Cathryn would strike at, eliminate – but without the ‘Hunts’ themselves to guide her, her actions unbeknownst to Cathryn were in fact specifically targeted to eliminate George’s own rivals, enabling him to secure power amongst the Imperium’s council – ending alliances against him, and despite never being the elected leader of the Imperium; he might as well have been by 1889.
Cathryn’s actions removed the Imperium’s official leader; Victor – from his dominant position, giving way for George to effectively blackmail the Imperium’s council through his wealthy Business Empire and ever-growing Cultist power – the Cult of the Minotaur now strengthening their position across the entire British Empire; from Britain to Canada, from the Caribbean to Oceania Colonies to Africa and India; George’s influence had become unchallenged within the Imperium – and to add insult, he had begun exploiting this to go beyond the Imperium’s original Governance manipulation to active participation, directly lobbying Politicians to get Political bills passed through Parliament, provided wealth to Criminal Gangs and only adding to the social upheaval across Britain as Poverty continued to build.
In 1889 on Cathryn’s 18th birthday; George would approach Cathryn with an offer of marriage, in truth, it was a command – it was the beginning of the shift; the first months of her marriage would be marked by the escalation of physical and psychological abuse with Anne being exiled.
1890 would be a year she would suffer heavily – miscarriage in March after an attempt to defend herself resulting in George’s enraged physical response; a violent increase in physical and emotional abuse; a refusal to let Cathryn rest, even parading her around at Cultist gatherings – one such event introducing her to the American Cult Leaders; Benjamin and Isabelle Mason – Isabelle, a woman who’d recently given birth to her third child felt an immediate mother-connection towards Cathryn; her supportive husband, Benjamin tried to help her s they agreed to try and take Cathryn from the Smythe Estate.
A second pregnancy would be discovered and by December of 1890 Cathryn would give birth to twins; Elizabeth on the late evening of December 20th and the second; born 4-Hours later on December the 21st; Lydia.
In 1891; Anne would seek the help of a surviving ‘Hunter’ named Jesse who was trying to rebuild the group from the ground up, in America; the Mason’s would plan to try and free Cathryn and in Qing China; a Manchurian who had been rescued by Cathryn would hear of plight leading to his eventual failed effort to free her – and discover efforts were being made by Jesse who was now being provided funding by the Mason Family – though Xian’s actions had caused irreparable damage and tightened George’s grip making things more difficult and led to a Brutal and Sadistic ‘Re-Education’ that Cathryn would be restrained for as violence escalated into unspeakable acts and sadistic violence from 1891 to 1896 – her lifeline though would come in the form of her daughter; Lydia who developed a fiercely loyal bond despite George’s efforts to prevent them interacting.
As the ‘Hunters’ began a resurgence – Benjamin and Isabelle’s loyalty to the Imperium was tested over and over again, but their funding of the ‘Hunters’ persisted, Isabelle’s desperate need to free Cathryn matched Anne’s desperation to save her Adopted Daughter.
Eventually the ‘Hunters’ would seek help from a Japanese ‘Hunter’; Heijirō Yama who had settled with his British Partner; Grace in Kingston upon Hull in 1869 – they would become involved with the growing efforts to free Cathryn, their son Astor in a fierce clash between George and Heijirō in a graveyard in Redbourn would intervene to land a strike on George – moving with a predator’s quietness and ease with a frightening and disciplined aura.
George would survive the encounter against the father-son duo; Heijirō and Astor – his pride and confidence though, that had taken a devastating hit that only enraged him, upon his return to the Smythe Estate though George was faced with an unexpected shift; Cathryn had shown, despite everything she had gone through a surprising competence at running the Smythe Estate in his absence and even offered a tentative offer to assist due to his injuries – it created a spark of confusion in his tyrannical resolve – unseen though, watching over Cathryn was a mysterious violet-eyed woman.
Introduction:
The 20th of January, 1897
Nottingham, Midlands
Th Safehouse was little more than a dank cellar beneath the abandoned building of a once thriving Butchers shop – the air hung heavy with the stench of rotten mean, but also, a sense of fading hope persisted; George Smythe’s actions on December the 31st had struck a major blow, the ‘Hunters’ still rebuilding and recruiting had now just felt as though it had been struck in a main artery, it had devastating consequences to their unity.
Jesse, his face etched with a deeper network of lines, stood hunched over the table looking at a crude map spread out; across from him was Heijirō, he sat cross-legged on the ground, his traditional Japanese robes still bearing the mud stains from his duel against George in Redbourn days earlier, beside him stood his son; Astor cloaked in his usual enigmatic stillness, watching the flickering light with an unsettling intensity.
Anne Smythe, her long Dark-blonde hair pulled back, her pale blue alights were alight with a feverish anxiety as she paced about the room.
“This is just a pyrrhic victory” Jesse mumbled with regards to the father-son duo being able to achieve a victory against George despite being forced to retreat under threat of the Cultists arriving to defend George
Heijirō shifted his gaze towards Jesse for a moment “The air of invincibility has been broken” he said, his voice heavily accented
“Not enough though” Jesse shook his head; his gaze then shifted in Anne’s direction, he knew how much it meant to her that Cathryn be rescued from the Smythe Estate, though with the loss of their safehouse and recruits in Whitechapel, Jesse felt he needed to unfortunately let her down after these 7-Years of promising “Which…, unfortunately brings me to the grim news”
Chapter 1:
Anne came to a stop and shifted her gaze towards Jesse carefully, she sensed exactly what was coming as her expression quickly filled with sadness “I pray you understand the weight of these words Anne” he said before pausing, gathering his resolve “We…, must dissolve any further plans and coordination to try challenging George; at least for the foreseeable future”
“But…, Cathryn…, the girls” she felt the air grow colder; suffocating as her body tensed
Jesse looked at her sympathetically “Anne…, the attack George orchestrated on our operations in Whitechapel haven’t just set us back; we’ve lost too many, the future of this movement…, our resistance has just crumbled, we do not have the resources to launch any kind of action”
Anne shifted about, her gaze moving as she stood uneven, she felt despair; all those years of planning, organising and promises; she had clung to that hope, cultivated it like a fragile bloom; the very hope of rescuing her adopted daughter – that brave, fierce girl that her cousin; George, had systematically broken down.
“I am sorry Anne” Jesse said with a calm tone “More sorry than I can ever say, but to continue will lead to what remains into utter annihilation, we would achieve nothing”
Anne slowly nodded; the fight drained, she felt hollow – the logic made sense, the cruelty of reality was lad bare; her shoulders sagged, her eyes, once defiant glazed tearfully, without a word, she turned and left; she didn’t know what else to do, where to go, but she knew she had completely failed.
The Smythe Estate, along the River Thames
By late January of 1897, the grotesque monument of grandeur; the Smythe Estate seemed to grow more insidious – the land, enclosed by a protective wall with a single gated-entrance along the River Thames with its forest that seem to reach out towards the sky like skeletal hands and its pointed spires – the Manor itself, sitting at the very centre of the estate a blend of disturbing dystopian decay and opulence.
Glided chandeliers cast flicker light on dust-laden tapestries, the air heavy.
Here ins this disturbing theatre of the absurd lived Cathryn – a woman whose spirit and identity had slowly been eroded, Grain-by-Grain; she had once been fighter – a ‘Hunter’ with the skill to back it up, now, she was constantly living in a state of fear and terror even with moments where a flicker of resistance would resurface in attempts to protect her daughter; Lydia – the only source of hope in her ever narrowing existence.
Since the duel in Redbourn though – Cathryn had found herself granted a small measure of autonomy, it came as a result of the loyal Butler; Jacob vouching on Cathryn’s behalf after George had initially shot down her offer of help, Jacob had praised Cathryn’s remarkable ability to maintain the estate and its staff, handling letters and correspondence – things that Cathryn supposedly had never even learnt to do, yet managed to not only maintain things, but separated George’s Imperium-Letters and sorted them without ever reading their contents, ensuring that everything was ready for George to read without the need to search, each letter dated and placed in an orderly manner that indicated importance for ease.
Now, with the support of Jacob, Cathryn was no longer taking on the usual ‘Slave-like’ tasks she was often forced to tend too, with George resting, she managed the Estate and its staff with quiet efficiency, meticulously adhering to the exact standards George expected with support from Jacob.
As part of those new responsibilities though, she also had to present an image to visitors; she found herself being required to wear more ‘Aristocratic’ style of clothing, presented herself with an air of ‘sophistication’ her long, raven-dark hair usually dull and limp or often tied back into a rushed bun, was now properly maintained again, often though her hair was free to cascade for along her back and shoulders.
Though her Silvery-Grey eyes would always retain that constant sadness, a look of someone always on the brink of a mental collapse due to everything she had been put through since the later days of December 1889 and the ‘Re-Education’ since early 1891 due to an event she had no control over – the rescue attempt by a man named ‘Xian’.
Despite this new found freedom though; Cathryn found herself balancing a tightrope constantly, every interaction with George was a potential trigger of his volatile temper – it was a constat balancing act between subservience and self-preservation, even within his weakened state, George radiated an aura of menace – he was a predator coiled and ready.
Her only solace resided in her twin daughters – Elizabeth, the older twin who had been born in the late hours of December the 20th of 1890 was a source of pain though, she mimicked her father in almost every way, and was a physical female-version of him; Elizabeth shared the same Dark Blonde hair and Icy-Blue Eyes, the bond between Cathryn and Elizabeth was strained; Elizabeth sought to emulate her father, copied his coldness and had begun to study the material George provided; often books with illustrations of things one wouldn’t typically give children – amongst them was one of Elizabeth’s more recent gifts from her birthday; a book that was specifically to desensitise her, anatomical illustrations that showed exposed muscle and ligaments.
Then there was Lydia; the younger twin by four hours – Lydia shared her mother’s birthday; born on December the 21st of 1890 and was a miniature version of her; Lydia shared the same long raven-dark hair and Silvery-Grey eyes, but it wasn’t just physical similarities, she shared her mothers moral compass and compassion – traits that alienated her from George, she naturally and instinctively gravitated to her mother, forever seeking her out – George made many attempts to stop this bond, purposely isolating her and keeping her away, yet the bond persisted and only strengthened as Lydia continued to outright reject her father and began sneaking out during night to seek her mother’s company; Lydia had become Cathryn’s lifeline.
Chapter 2:
The 5th of March, 1897
Once George had sufficiently recovered to reclaim his dominion, the limp in his gait was barely perceptible, but the gleam within his eyes had sharpened – he surveyed the estate, his gaze fixing for a moment on the meticulously kept gardens, the polished silverware and the obsequious staff.
Cathryn had striven to maintain everything as he desired in a desperate hope of appeasing him to earn respite, even if it would be for a moment – her efforts though, were not met with gratitude, but with a renewed cruelty; physical beatings resumed, each blow a more calculated act of dominance, he found new ways of inflicting pain, she once again found herself restrained to bedposts as unspeakable acts would be committed, the whisperings of vile obscenities – then came a new cruelty, while he would often subject her to ‘Re-Education’ restraining her for longer periods, physical and mental beatings with unspeakable acts committed – the isolation tactic he began to employ was amongst the worst – leaving her restrained, he would lock her in her room for hours or even more just lock her away in the room with minimal food and water making claims of being for her ‘Own Good’ – the true motive though became clear, it was intended to crack down on Lydia’s attempts to see her mother – he was forbidding Lydia from interacting, and when he did provide permission, it was only to ensure she witnessed his escalating cruelty regardless of whatever he did to Cathryn – he was trying to sever the remaining threats that tethered Cathryn’s sanity, twisting the knife as painfully as possible in an already mental declining young woman.
The atmosphere within the Smythe Estate grew increasing oppressive – silence either punctured by George’s booming voice or Cathryn’s stifled sobs – the opulence of her surroundings mocked her constantly.
One night though after a cruelty had reached a crescendo; after hours of torment, both physical and psychological; Cathryn felt something finally snap, everything she had gone through, all the relentless abuse and erosion of her spirit, it all coalesced into a single blinding moment of desperation.
She felt as though she had nothing left to lose.
Using a hairpin she painstakingly picked at the lock of her window; pushing the windows outwards to open them; a frigid coldness hit her skin, yet at the same time; felt a strange feeling of freedom.
With a surge of adrenaline, Cathryn climbed out into a clear rainstorm, clambering onto the narrow, slippery ledge – below the ground seemed a dizzying distance away, but a distance she was willing to risk – instead of descending though, she made her way carefully across the ledge, her bare feet finding purchase on slippery stone as she moved with desperation and reckless grace – she was driven by an urge to escape.
With a body that is constantly in pain from abuse, and a lose of physical strength – her attempts to climb was difficult, but determination and desperation proved a powerful motivator; when she reached the top, she barely managed to pull herself up, nearly slipping as she dragged herself – her hair whipped around from a strong gust of wind, as she finally stood up, she felt her body swaying against the wind as she looked out at the vast expanse of the Smythe Estate – the strange beauty tat was barely visible in the darkness of the night – it was a terrifying, liberating vista as she stared outwards.
George, during his routine visits discovered her room empty and window ajar; a furious roar escaped his throat – in a quick movement he rushed down summoning the Manor’s staff before barking out orders and demanding the grounds be searched thoroughly.
As George came out into the rain though, he stopped – a strange tugging caused his gaze to raise upwards – he saw her; a pale figure silhouetted, perched precariously on the edge of the roof.
A cruel smile twisted his lips.
Chapter 3:
Jacob, approaching raised his eyes upwards following George’s gaze before taking a deep breath and momentarily disappearing to organise the staff; meanwhile, George, his hands calmly resting behind his back maintained his gaze “Cathryn!” his voice boomed out across the courtyard; laced with a chilling mixture of anger and amusement “Come down here at once; this is a foolish game”
Cathryn’s gaze didn’t move; she merely moved closer to the edge – closer to the precipice, wind tugging at her gown, the flickering lights below where like malevolent eyes “I can’t…” she whispered; her voice hoarse and raw from years of stifled screams and choked-back tears that had damaged her throat leaving her voice gravelly and strained “I can’t take it anymore….”
George’s gaze narrowed as he observed, his attention never moved even as Jacob and the small Irish woman; Peggy approached, George’s expression momentarily shifted, he realised exactly what she was going to do “She’s actually going to jump”
“This is you and ye bloody cruelty!” Peggy snapped; her Irish tone evident in her anger – George’s gaze drifted towards her, her fiery red hair matched her matched the woman she had become since escaping his cruelty so many years ago before Cathryn had even come to the Smythe Estate
George shifted his gaze back upwards then started walking – it would take a while, but using ladders, he would eventually reach the rooftop, and carefully moved around, his movement caught Cathryn’s attention causing her to snap her head around quickly, her Silvery-Grey eyes blazing with a desperate intensity “Stay away from me!” she rasped “I’ll jump; I swear it, leave me alone; please!”
George moved his hands behind his back as he stood at a safe distance watching her “Come down; now!” he ordered, his tone cold as he spoke with a sneer
“I want to see my daughters!” her voice trembled “Just let me see my daughters, let me be with them; that is all I want, if I can’t have anything else; please…, please just let me have that” she pleaded, begged; her body shook as she sobbed
George thought carefully – he considered his options, his recent actions against the ‘Hunter’ resurgence in Whitechapel had already drawn the attention of the Imperium Council, and now, potentially he would need to explain Cathryn’s actions “Go ahead” he said, his voice deceptively calm “Jump; it’ll make things so much easier for me, I can raise those girls how I see fit; no more of your sentimental influence”
The words felt like a physical blow; she was frozen – her body rigid with horror, if she jumped, she would be abandoning her daughters to his complete control, he would mould them in his image, twist them into something evil – her gaze drifted down, drawn to the unforgiving stone below, the temptation to end the pain, to escape torment was almost overwhelming.
Seeing her waver though; George shifted subtly; edging closer towards her – he knew, if she jumped then the Imperium, despite all his power and influence, would be united against him, and he couldn’t have that.
Cathryn returned her attention to George “Please…” she begged again, her voice barely a whisper now “Just let me be with me daughters; that is all I am asking; please”
While he didn’t care for Cathryn’s well-being, the very idea she could completely destroy his position by this act, was enough for him “Fine” he said, a voice laced with a calculated indifference “Come here; come to me Cathryn” he said, his hand held outstretched towards her
Cathryn hesitated; her body trembled, she didn’t trust him, not for a moment – but she had no other choice, slowly, cautiously; she moved towards him, her eyes fixed on his predatory gaze; as she drew nearer, she reached out towards his hand; the movement was quick as he yanked her forwards to ensure she wouldn’t slip – though the grip on her hand was a moment of pain due to its tightness – and as they began to climb down the ladder; she felt fear surging, almost paralyzing as he purposely positioned her beneath him to prevent her from trying to escape or slip as they made their way slowly down – she didn’t dare to protest though.
Once at the relative safety of the ground; George shifted – he only moved fully when Peggy surged forwards “Move!” she snapped before putting an arm around her “Come on Lass” she said, her voice softening “Let’s get you inside”
Inside of Cathryn’s room; Peggy drew Cathryn into a comforting embrace “You can’t let him win love” she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and compassion; she recognised Cathryn’s desperation; but there was very little she could truly say or do, all she could offer was her presence as she kept her in a gently hug “You are strong; trust me, you’ve gone through so much, and your still here…, don’t let him win now”
Cathryn clung to Peggy; her body wracked by sobs – but she felt a flicker of warmth from the embrace, then a new presence drew her attention; Lydia, she had not only managed to enter the room without noise; but even get near to the two without even Peggy noticing, the Six year old gently tugged on her mothers night gown pulling Cathryn’s attention towards her “Mummy” she said; her voice like a fragile bell; due to how much she had seen and witnessed, Lydia had developed an uncanny perceptiveness that matched her determination, she recognised her mother’s constant pain
Gently; Cathryn brought Lydia onto her lap before hugging her tightly; she didn’t want to let go as he inhaled her scent; trying to hide her face into her daughters hair, it felt so long since she last got to see her; Peggy would remain present, even as Cathryn succumbed to exhaustion, Peggy remained watching over her as she essentially clung to her daughter.
Chapter 4:
1898
Putney, Greater London
One-Year had passed since the failure of the ‘Hunters’, since Jesse had given her the news that he could no longer organise a fight – Anne Smythe, now living like a ghost amongst the living, a once vibrant, fiery woman who had tried to defy her wealthy family and challenge her cousin; George, had been replaced by a sombre woman draped in a constant sorrow.
Despair had become a constant companion, a heavy cloak of oppression and hopelessness – every elegant town-house she passed seemed to mock her, remind her of the cage she had gotten Cathryn trapped within due to her choice to bring Cathryn at that tender age to what she perceived as a place of safety, in truth she had in fact subject the innocent girl to a lifetime of abuse.
During that late hour, Anne walked the empty streets that had become large deserted, a melancholic silence broken by a distant clatter of a horse drawn carriage; her attention was fixed at the ground though, so, as she passed by an alleyway, the movement of a shadow detaching itself from the deeper gloom to step in front of her startled her to a point her heart nearly leapt from her throat causing her immediately recoil in fright with a terrified gasp escaping her throat.
The figure as a man of Manchurian descent; a citizen of the Great Qing – his features where unreadable within the dim light, but yet, he was completely familiar to Anne, as she looked at him carefully; ‘Xian’ – the name echoed a bitter taste, his reckless attempt to rescue Cathryn alone in 1891 had triggered a break in the first planned attempt to rescue Cathryn and had caused a deeper imprisonment and the reason behind George’s excuse to begin his ‘Re-Education’ of Cathryn “Miss Smythe” Xian’s voice was a low guttural murmur, surprising devoid of malice “We meet again”
Anne stared at him; her body rigid “What do you want; have you come to cause another disruption?”
“No” Xian shook his head “I have learnt from my previous mistake; I acknowledge how I have caused so much damage, but I was unaware of you and the ‘Hunters’ trying to free her, had I been aware I wouldn’t have been as reckless as I had been, I apologies for my part in causing you and Cathryn so much pain; but…” he paused as he eyed Anne carefully, it was an admission of guilt he was acknowledging, Anne recognised a subtle hint of pain present that he was hiding within his eyes
“I know how the Hunters were attacked and it hasn’t escaped my notice how they’ve begun vanishing again, as if hiding, yet; you are no amongst them, to me, that would indicate they have failed to uphold their promise to you” he offered a hand “I have studied the Cultist and the Imperium; I have improved, and I offer you that skill, to help you free Cathryn and her progeny”
Anne’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion warring with a spark of long-buried hope “Why; what makes you different now, what makes you think you can do alone what Jesse and the Hunter’s couldn’t?”
“Time; Patience” Xian replied “Those ‘Hunters’ that have failed…, they seemed to have failed to take something into account, Cathryn’s three-years of activity, they did more than the Hunter’s had in the ten years of rebuilding; after our encounter following my unfortunate…, error that caused so many issues, I went to educate myself…, to train, to understand what my mistake was; during that time Miss Smythe…” he thought carefully, before looking down the street a moment
“During that time; I discovered Cathryn’s actions had impacted more than me” he said; looking back to Anne “She rescued me before she found herself trapped in that marriage, but she has inspired more than me, she has inspired new movements as far as the Great Qing, she has inspired Anti-Imperium resistance in Spain; because she was just one lone girl fighting without support, even if it was just three-short years, she made more impact” he maintained a calm tone “Because I have interacted with these groups, I came to realise that I should have been trying to emulate her tactics, not just charge in; what I am offering will not be swift, it will be a long-game, played by new rules, but I promise you; it will work”
Anne studied him – her mind was a whirlwind of doubt and a forbidden, intoxicating desire; could she trust him, he had failed once before, but what choice did she have; Jesse’s Hunters had been broken, scattered; she had nowhere else to turn – reluctantly, Anne nodded “Okay” she said with hesitation
The Smythe Estate, along the River Thames
Meanwhile within the gilded cage and under the oppressive shadow of cruelty of George Smythe, things had changed – there was now a much more insidious tactic going on, Elizabeth, already favouring her father had readily accepted the new education that began at the age of 7, he had begun to cultivate her desperation to gain his attention, but it wasn’t just Elizabeth – Lydia too had also become a student of this new, brutal education, an education that would leave Lydia suffering severe nightmares with screams that would wake the manor at night.
The source of this education; being present to witness animal torture and death, they found themselves being forced to watch, Elizabeth would be uncaptured, Lydia would be revulsed.
As Lydia returned to her room shaken, her eyes wide she felt a wave of nausea hit her as she finally reached what she saw as the safety of her room; it had been since the beginning of Lydia’s nightly screaming’s that caused George to move her older twin to a different room isolating her – initially, Cathryn would go to her daughter, but George began to intervene, intending to prevent Cathryn from comforting Lydia.
During that evening though; Lydia, struck by that wave of nausea would be unable to stop herself, the horrors of what she had witnessed that day proving far too much.
It was only the start of the brutal-education, but it was already proving to be too much for her to handle, unlike Elizabeth who relished, it was not something Lydia wanted to remember, no matter how hard she tried, animals screams wouldn’t leave her head, even in her desperate writings within her journal, she could barely repeat things, but it was also the beginning of her use of a desperate plea ‘I want to Live a Normal life’ it became a common sentence at the end of each entry into her journal.
During the late evening; Cathryn managed to slip out from her room and after checking her surroundings carefully found her way to Lydia’s room; upon discovering her daughter, she approached, only months previous; Lydia had been comforting her in her desperation; they had been there for each other, but what Lydia was experiencing now left her frightened, Cathryn had taken the full role, despite George’s efforts, it had actually strengthened Cathryn due to Lydia’s constant pain.
Chapter 5:
Recognising how things would escalate, regardless of whatever she tried to do in desperation to appease, Cathryn found herself looking back instead of forwards, she knew that she couldn’t find the answers if she continued to blindly look forwards and try to appease, but the past; that held something for her to return too, even with everything she had suffered and continued to suffer, the shift in George’s attention had proven beneficial during the late evenings.
She remembered the training she had from ‘The Monk’ and decided to reimplement it, she had to be careful though – if George caught on to what she was doing, there would be nothing to stop his reprisal, she found herself forcing herself to adapt, a body still under constant pain, a mental state always on the brink – yet her daughter needed her, so, she resolved to play the ‘Dutiful Wife’ the ‘Domestic Slave’ she had been forced into being, and when he would leave her room after her ‘Re-Education’ she would force herself to begin training herself physically – whenever she heard Lydia’s cries, she would go to her, even if George made attempts to stop her; she pushed.
In the kitchen, she would make subtle movements when tending to meals, gestures she could hide to practise striking movements – she would always make sure to be alone though before doing so, muscle-memory was doing a lot of work – things would be slow, but she would make progress.
One night, Cathryn found herself approaching her door already expecting the desperate cry of her daughter – it had become a recurring theme, just as she got out of her room, Lydia’s voice cried out; she proceeded to her daughters room, gently pushing the door open finding Lydia tangled in her sheets – slowly she moved over and placed herself on the edge as Lydia moved up to her, she gently wrapped her arm around her “It’s okay” she said softly
Lydia sensed something different in her mothers voice; felt the change present in her body – she no longer felt ‘weak’ but as though she was getting stronger, it drew Lydia’s eyes upward to look at her mothers expression, the softness was still there; but yet, there was also a new look present she had only ever seen in moments of desperation when Cathryn had reacted that one time years earlier – the only time Lydia had witnessed Cathryn actually stun George with a sudden strike when she stabbed him along two-pressure points on his arm when he had attempted to grab Lydia to pull her from Cathryn – the weak kick that had followed only served to knock George back a foot – but the look had remained something Lydia wouldn’t forget, a look of strength – it was back.
Gently, Cathryn began to rock side-to-side with Lydia, maintaining a gentle smile murmuring a soft lullaby until Lydia fell asleep, she would remain in place, keeping Lydia within her embrace to offer as much protection she could – the morning routine would remain the same though as she would tend to her duties around the Manor.
Despite the agony of her body; Cathryn’s strength was rebuilding – George did begin to notice.
The ‘Re-Education’ he subjected her too exposed her body, and he could see the signs of rebuilding muscle “What do we have here?” he questioned as he walked slowly around the bed as Cathryn found herself once again restrained, these routines had become ritual – she knew each step he would take, how the violence progressed – but, the pause caused by the shifts in her body had proved a curiosity for him, she felt her breathing rapidly increase as she remained motionless, her face buried into the pillow – she didn’t dare move, even as she felt his touch.
He had begun lining his fingers around the tone of developing muscle “You’ve bee training” he whispered as he leaned in close towards her; his breath hot against her neck; she merely swallowed, uncertain how to respond “So…, it would seem this ‘Re-Education’ has failed…, you still believe yourself a ‘Hunter’ eh?, a fighter?” he let out a slight chuckle of amusement
The pause would not last though; he would carry on with his intention – though he intended to humiliate her further during this act of dominance, but, it would serve to have the opposite effect, it only renewed her determination to keep training, she had no other options – if she continued to live as the obedient slave – he would abuse her, if she fought back he abused her – no matter her choice, he always abused her.
Lydia would become Cathryn’s shadow – refusing to leave her mother, she had begun to cling to her mother in desperation, she saw the renewed strength and gravitated towards it, Elizabeth – she also began to notice the shift in her mother, the way she presented herself, it served as a reminder that her mother wasn’t as weak as she previously believed.
The delicate balance was maintained – but it was clear to George, Cathryn wouldn’t be contained for much longer if he didn’t take action again, but, it was becoming obvious his ‘Re-Education’ wasn’t working, so, he went further and when that didn’t work he began to think on new methods – a timely issue though interrupted George’s attempts to implement anything though; Victor, the elected leader of the Imperium had returned to Britain with intentions to make his plan official – to relocate the Imperium’s Council directly to the United States, unlike George who believed the Empire was the best place to organise the Imperium – Victor saw the future potential of the United States as the direction to move in; it opened the doors of conflict within the Imperium as George openly challenged Victor.
Sometime in June of 1898
Southampton, Hampshire
The air of Southampton’s docks hung heavy and thick a blend of coalsmoke and salt spray, the faint coppery tang of the docks clung to every breath, usually it was a place of bustling industry, but that day it was quieter save for the distant clang of a crane and mournful hoot of a foghorn.
Xian’s gaze swept over the towering cargo ship – it’s hull was dark and imposing against the glimmering water, his eyes were sharp as he took in the grimy expanse, he felt as though his patience was finally being rewarded as a gaunt figure who’s face was obscured by a brim cap pulled low furtively approached him.
This was the contact e needed.
Without a word his contact gestured to a nondescript stack of crates near a disused hoist; Xian moved with a quiet urgency, his senses on high alert; reaching the designated crate, he waited as the contact fumbled with the latch before finally revealing what was concealed within.
Within the packing straw were components he had painstakingly sought; sealed glasses containing viscous, crystalline liquids and sturdy burlaps sacks overflowing with various fine powdered substances – his heart gave a suppressed lurch of grim satisfaction; Xian recognized them instantly – the very contents that would enable him to create a volatile destructive explosive that would be potent enough to achieve his aim with regards to George Smythe.
A flicker of triumph quickly masked across Xian’s face; he straightened up, turning to his contact – the man’s eyes, though shift, held a palpable anticipation; a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Xian’s lips, a genuine expression of relief and gratitude as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket to extract a crips, folded note that exchanged hands “Usual place” Xian murmured, his voice low and steady “And your money will be waiting”
The contact; a man who was a creature of habit and greed gave a quick, almost bird-like nod before he pocketed the note before quickly departing – it eft Xian to tend to his cargo without anyone to else to interfere.
Chapter 6:
The Smythe Estate, along the River Thames
A chasm would continue to grow between Cathryn and Elizabeth, but it wasn’t only her mother that Elizabeth would serve as a source of pain for; but her younger twin; Lydia – Elizabeth viewed Lydia’s attachment to their mother, her ‘softness’ as a weakness that she needed to take advantage of with the encouragement of her father.
Then there was William; William was Peggy’s son – born by their previous union; at 20 Years of age, William was only 6 years younger than Cathryn, and despite every effort by Peggy, William was learning from his father, and began to serve as a secondary educator for Elizabeth, appearing to obey his father’s wishes to ensure Elizabeth grew stronger and more brutal, in truth though, William was not only training Elizabeth, but planting seeds that would one day lead Elizabeth to question.
Lydia would continue to cling to Cathryn like a lifeline – the role she had served as Cathryn’s now completely rotating entirely, but it forged an unbreakable bond through their shared suffering, when she had chance, Lydia would sit and join her mother whenever Cathryn tended to the garden; cultivating a desire to see the beauty in life – during one afternoon, Cathryn would find Lydia in her usual spot in her bedroom, hunched over the journal that she had kept to write down her life, experiences and most important desire – Cathryn slowly approached before lowering herself down “What are you writing darling?” she asked gently
Lydia hesitated a moment but showed her mother the page – it was obvious her handwriting had improved from her constant need to write her thoughts, Cathryn read the page carefully ‘I want to escape; I want to find somewhere safe where daddy can’t hurt the animals, stop mummy being in pain; I want to escape and live a normal life with mummy’
Cathryn’s heart clenched – she felt a surge of emotion building as she gently pulled Lydia into an embrace “I want that too my sweet girl; so very much” she whispered.
Nothing escaped George’s notice though – he saw Cathryn’s shift from submissive and abused wife, he recognised a threat that was growing under his roof, and with the Imperium’s current internal-conflict, he couldn’t put his full focus onto her, if he did, it would draw Victor’s potential response through a coalition against him, with a low growl escaping his lips, George turned his attention towards Jacob who entered his study “Where is Cathryn” he queried, trying to sound less stress than he actually was
“Tending to an issue” Jacob lied; he knew Cathryn was with Lydia, but, he had watched his treatment of both mother and daughter; he recognised just how pained Cathryn had been the previous year when she was so close to jumping from the rooftop “It is an issue I believed required attention, and she has often proved more than capable sir”
George’s eyes narrowed but he waved his hand absently “When she is done; inform her she best be ready for my visit” he said looking away before his focus shifted towards the crackling of the fireplace
Jacob shook his head slowly before vacating the study; he went about his usual duties before making a stop by Peggy, telling her of George’s intention and requesting she pass the message to Cathryn
In the backroom William stood with what had become the usual training room used within that old Manor – he stood with his ever sharp-eye as he watched over Elizabeth, he shook his head at the mistakes she kept making “Again!” he rasped with a snap “You stance is weak; a blade will not care for the trembling hand of a child!” he was a harsh teacher during the more physical lessons, but, he was making progress.
She listened though – there was never any flinching, any tears only a sharp intake of breath and a renewed desperate repeat of the lesson.
In this particular session, he had her using a knife to block or parry, to adapt her stances, she required precision.
As William shifted around he made a swing with his own knife; it was simple, she either blocked, or, she would receive a painful reminder for failing; her attempt was met with a partial-success that knocked her off her feet causing her to drop the knife “Pathetic” he sneered at her “You fight like some common street urchin not a member of this family”
He didn’t give her a chance to get back up though; he made a lunge forwards forcing Elizabeth to scramble in order to avoid the strike, an action that caused him to grin as she barely escaped the blade’s reach, the knife striking the floor, Elizabeth reached for her own knife before she managed to get back to her feet, turning to find William already moving again.
This was the usual routine; Elizabeth disliked the usage of knives and physical exertion – she had watched her father with firearms, and to her, they seemed much easier to use compared to having to physically face an opponent, the irony though would be Lydia – Lydia despite her hatred of the harsh upbringing and brutal lessons showed quiet a good discipline for using knives, though it was often in private and only under her mother’s tutelage who recognised the need for Lydia to learn from the Anti-Imperium ‘Hunters’ even if it was only to help her with self-defence – those lessons would however go a long way in the future.
Chapter 7:
1900
Westminster, Greater London
The sight was a tableau of splintered wood and shattered glass, the stench of cordite filled the air – George had just survived an explosion; a clear assassination attempt, he stood within what remained of the meeting room, his suit coated in plaster but completely unruffled, his gaze swept over the carnage; overturned chairs and the grand mahogany damaged beyond repair, there was a pool of crimson seeping into the Persian rug.
George took in the scene with an almost clinical detachment – his eyes betrayed no flicker of alarm or surprise “It appears….” He intoned with a smooth voice; like polished stone “We’ve had a minor inconvenience”
The other survivor; a gaunt man named Nathaniel clutched his bleeding arm, his face ashen – he simply nodded, he was too stunned to speak, slowly, he followed George; George calmly moved, stepping over a fallen chandelier, exiting from the ravaged building only to be met by Nicholas “George; what in god’s name has happened here?”
George merely offered a faint, almost imperceptible smile “An attempt upon my life it would seem; a rather clumsy one I might add” his eyes then drifted to the crowd that had gathered; one man stood out amongst, he wore traditional Chinese attire, it took only for a second for his face to click in place – Xian.
George recognised Xian as someone Cathryn had rescued from a repurposed Prison Brig that was meant to be dismantled until it had come under control from an opposing Cultist group trying to fight George and his Cult of the Minotaur, he quickly connected the dots and the one who made the attempt against his life, it curved George’s lips into a sinister grin – Xian’s previous attempt to free Cathryn directly from the Smythe Estate in 1891 was the catalyst for George’s sadistic ‘Re-Education’ lessons, that where now evidently no longer working as intended due to her choice to begin retraining her body and those protective instincts that ensured the bond between Cathryn and Lydia – now, Xian had just provided George with the excuse he needed to end the threat living under his roof, he watched as Xian disappeared within the crowd before looking to Nicholas and Nathaniel “I intend to return back to my Estate…, I am sure you can deal with this mess?”
Nicholas raised his eyebrow but slowly gave a nod – he was confused, but, he suspected that George may simply want to vacate a possibility of yet another assassination attempt, he stood aside to watch as George slowly walked off.
The Smythe Estate, along the River Thames
Miles away within the suffocating grandeur of the Smythe Estate; Lydia sat with her mother – the light winter sun struggled to penetrate the heavy velvet curtains of the private sanctuary crafted by Cathryn to enable for private education – she had capitalized on Lydia’s love of writing, so often finding her jotting down her thoughts in that private journal, it had become routine these past few years for the two to spend time and escape from the sadistic oppressiveness and simply enjoy what peace they could to apply themselves to even menial tasks together or, when the opportunity permitted, for Cathryn to provide Lydia with an education that was much different from the Cruel and Dark education he subjected the twin girls too.
“And this…” Cathryn whispered pointing to a delicate fern “Even in the deepest of shadows, it stretches towards the light”
It was in these moments Lydia would genuinely find herself smiling – so often she had been forced to hide her emotions, but, with her mother she could still feel a sense of freedom; and in that moment, she felt her lips tugging to feel a smile form as she nodded slowly – but it quickly vanished as she raised her head quickly; she had become a lot more sensitive to the sounds around, and even before the knock that would shatter the fragile peace, Lydia had already picked up on the quiet movement beyond the door, it drew Cathryn’s attention just as the soft knock tapped against the wooden frame, slowly the door opened as a young woman poked her head in “Miss; Master George has returned and requested your presence”
Cathryn’s hand, resting against Lydia’s instinctively tensed – the warmth of the moment receded and a familiar apprehension too its place “Stay here love; finish your studies” she told Lydia softly before rising up to her feet; the rustle of her skirt seemed impossible loud within the heavy silence that had just descended over them – Lydia watched as her mother left, she felt a cold knot tightening in her own stomach.
Chapter 8:
Over the recent years, the grand study had become more like a mausoleum of dark wood and supressed sound, here, George sat behind his desk, his eyes fixed on the door; the light, almost feathery-knock before Cathryn came into the door finally made him move, rising up as Cathryn only made it halfway inside before he gestured for her to stop, slowly, he came towards her “Cathryn, my dear…, ‘loving’ wife…” he purred, a dangerous softness coating his words that she was not use too “I have had an interesting encounter”
Cathryn’s felt confusion as he approached, but she didn’t meet his gaze, instead looking downwards as he began to circle her; it felt like a predator eyeing up prey, she had noticed the dirt covering his clothes, something wasn’t right, everything just seemed to scream at her that something was going to happen
“One of you old Allies” he said as he moved behind her “Xian…, remember him?, how he entered the grounds to take you away?”
Cathryn remembered the last time Xian had ‘Helped’ her – how he had caused utter chaos, gained entry to the Manor and forced her out under the belief he was helping her, though she fixed on him ignoring her pleas that she couldn’t leave her daughters – the most painful was the consequences – George, after breaking Xian’s arm and letting him flee, had turned the blame onto her despite having had nothing to do with Xian’s recklessness – she had been forced to become subject to a horrifying ordeal of ‘Re-Education’ and humiliation – slowly the realisation dawned on her that something bad was going to come as a result, she didn’t dare to look up or even towards George “George…, George I haven’t…”
“Quiet” George whispered as he leaned close; the tone despite how quiet was very clearly threatening “He tried to assassinate me” he told her as he continued to slowly circle her
She felt tears building “George…, I swear…, I am not involved” her voice trembled as she kept staring down
“Ah…, claiming innocence…, a charming façade, I find myself disappointed in you though, 10-Years I have been trying to teach you, to make you understand your place, to play the perfect Slave to my household…, to do as your was told…, yet you resist and now, even your old friends are daring to challenge me directly; to unravel my work” he stopped directly in front of her “I decided my ‘love’…, you are simply unfit for this household, an anomaly in this well-oiled machine”
Cathryn felt a cold dread creeping up her spine – she felt herself shake, questions ran through her head what she was going to endure now “Therefore Cathryn…., I am letting you have your freedom” Cathryn finally looked up in surprise; ‘He was letting her go?’ she questioned
Her breath caught; Freedom – after a decade of suffering, all the abuse, being driven to the brink…, the ‘Hope’ she felt was now terrifying, she stared, then noticed his expression shifted as he delivered the hook with exquisite precision “You will be leaving alone of course”
The words were like a physical blow; ‘Alone’ – that meaning was very brutal, she would be separated from her daughters completely, a suffocating terror washed over her; Elizabeth would thrive within that twisted house no matter how painful it was to accept – but Lydia, Lydia would suffer – Cathryn moved forwards, falling to her knees as she gripped at his sleeve “No!” the single word was raw with agony; desperation, her voice cracking “No; Please, please not my daughters, please, I’ll submit.., I will be what you want, I wont fight, do whatever you physically want, just don’t separate me from them!”
Leaning down slightly, George’s smile was sadistic “You can jump from a rooftop” he whispered calmly to her “Just not here on my families Estate” he stared directly into her tear soaked eyes before finally straightening up, gesturing to two men by the door ”Remove her” his voice was calm; it would be the final command he believed he would be giving regarding Cathryn
The following screams would draw Lydia out – as she emerged, she saw them taking her mother away, their eyes locking, the realisation dawning on Lydia as she made a move to try and follow only for George to step out of the study in front of her, stopping her from pursuing “Mummy” Lydia shouted towards her mother before her eyes shifted towards her father
George placed his hand onto her shoulder – there was no reassurance, just a tight, possessive grip “Time for you to follow your sisters path; your mother was too weak, and we can’t have that; there is no place for weakness my child” his eyes were devoid of any warmth they were just cruel predatory eyes staring down at her – she knew she had just lost the one person who kept her safe.
Outside of the grand estates protective wall, Cathryn was pulled despite her attempts to get free, and they passed through the single gate entrance before pushing her forcefully forces that sent her falling to the ground, she slashed into a puddle of muddy water, quickly she shot upwards and twisted around, though the raised rifle she took notice of stopped her, she had little choice but to leave; as she did she kept glancing back as tears fell down her face.
It would be days later that Cathryn would reach Gravesend – here, covered in muck and grime, she was a broken figure, her appearance drew attention very quickly, many made comments on her appearance, some looked down at her, others shouted, she cared little; she remained a silent figure as she walked aimlessly, in truth she didn’t know where she was even going, the events at the Manor just repeated in her head, it wasn’t until she heard a voice that snapped her attention – she recognised it immediately “How did you escape?” Xian’s voice locked her eyes immediately, she felt a sudden urge to attack as soon as she set her eyes onto him
“Cathryn?” Xian questioned; his expression one of confusion
“You bastard!” she snapped before surging forwards quickly; despite how much her body ached, not merely from her days of travel, but from physical need for recovery from everything she had suffered; she still flew into a rage at him, initially her attempt was just a desperate flailing that he could easily evade, even with renewed training, she was nothing like she had been – but, she began to regain a rhythm that alarmed him, a sudden spin followed by a kick that landed against his stomach sent him sprawling as a crowd took notice of the violence taking place
“Cathryn Stop!” Xian quickly kicked his legs up to use momentum to spring up off his back and back to his feet, drawing a knife free and attempting to get her into a restrained position – he had made a miscalculation; while her strength was not like it once was, her body tired; she hadn’t forgotten her training, she made a fast, sharp strike using the edge of her palm at the joint of his wrist forcing him to drop the knife before grabbing it and forcefully pushing Xian backwards only then did it allow for things to shift in his favour as he simply overpowered her, twisting her around and pinning her back against a wall, his arm resting against her throat, he had been close to intentionally trying to choke her to unconsciousness, though Anne’s desperate shout stopped him
“Cathryn” Anne said softly as Xian moved away quickly, not wanting to be in the line of fire a second time as Cathryn’s eyes locked onto Anne; she immediately broke down; Xian kept a safe distance as the two hugged each other, Cathryn desperately clinging to her adoptive mother
Chapter 9:
The five-years that would follow from Cathryn’s expulsion from the Smythe Estate between 1900 to 1905 would be a descent into a harrowing nightmare for Lydia – it had merely been oppressive before, now, it became a suffocating tomb, without her mother’s quiet lessons and protective presence; Lydia was utterly exposed to the extremes of the Cult of the Minotaur’s dehumanising and desensitising education.
Lydia would find herself forcing herself to stop showing emotion – her gentle nature had to be hidden, often it clashed with the cruelty of her father insisted on, she struggled constantly, very rare moments of vulnerability would become less-and-less, she found herself adapting her previous skills, using her silence to move and eavesdrop when she had opportunities, she took note of the hand-to-hand fighting, often though she was the weakest and it was easily identifiable – her screams would go unanswered at night when she suffered chronic nightmares.
It wasn’t only her father though; she became a target of Elizabeth who bloomed beneath their fathers teachings and training, Elizabeth delighted in tormenting Lydia to no end, finding new and inventive ways to exploit sensitivity, it would become a catalyst for the building of Lydia’s hardened exterior.
William, less overtly cruel would still contribute to her suffering – mocking her quiet nature and inability to conform, pushing her beyond her perceived emotional capacity, but unlike George or Elizabeth – William’s methods provided subtle benefits, he had identified Lydia as a potential for disruption even if he was openly acknowledging it.
During the later hours one night in 1905; William approached his mother as she was making her way to her room, stopping her in the hallway, his eyes quickly scanning about before fixing onto her “Take this and flee to the forest” he told her quietly, Peggy raised her eyebrow a moment, she was confused “Trust me” he said softly
“William…, what are you up too?” Peggy questioned with a concerned tone as she glanced back behind her before returning her eyes onto William
“I’ll explain once we’ve left this place, but please; do as I have asked” glancing back a moment, he made sure they were still alone before looking back to his mother “Take the back and go to the forest, you’ll know when to leave, it will light up the night”
Peggy hesitated a moment, but after a moment, she took the bag and slowly left.
It was that night in 1905 the climax would be reached – the Smythe Manor, a symbol of twisted power would be consumed within a raging inferno; William’s loyalty to his father had been utterly broken that night after par-taking in a conversation where George revealed his intention to Imperium Council members regarding Lydia being used as a sacrifice once the Ancient Prison is found, using Lydia as a means to free their Dark Master – it was a conversation Lydia herself overheard and forged a fragile alliance between both William and Lydia.
The fire would result in William’s actions after a fight would break out between father and son; within the chaos, William would flee – Lydia though, she wouldn’t leave right away until she saved her unconscious sister first, but she would be unable to take Elizabeth with her in her escape.
The fire, swift and merciless roared through the once-proud halls of power and licked at the night sky, it turned the place of oppression into a beacon of destructive chaos.
In the ensuing pandemonium; the Estate’s protective wall and single gate entrance, usually heavily guarded, stood completely abandoned – the guards, noticing the blaze had moved from their posts and rushed towards the fire – it left the gate completely open; Lydia’s small, dark shape – her clothes singed and face smudged in soot, but her eyes held determination and clarity.
She did not run, she simply walked until she passed the empty gate and that was where she paused for a moment to look back at the orange glow in the distance; everything she had sought to take had now been lost in that fire, all she had was what she was wearing, and a few coins – slowly she shifted as she looked down and resumed walking.
Her journey would be long and arduous; walking through the night she would eventually be found by a kind cart-rider; rough but sympathetic, he was a farmer and upon noticing a 15-Year old girl walking alone and clearly exhausted with evidence of her escape from a fire he offered her safety to reach London, where Lydia revealed she wanted to find her mother, when asked about her name; Lydia answered with ‘Cathryn Langdon’ it was a name the man recognised from a pub he frequented.
Upon reaching their destination; Victoria, London – Lydia climbed down, she found it a little overwhelming all of the loud noises as horse-drawn carriages raced past her, the air thrummed with the energy of thousands of lives, though the dawning wonder she felt was quickly lost when, as she reached into her torn jacket to search for what little she could offer the cart-rider, she felt it; the unmistakable corner of a small wooden container – her eyebrow raised in confusion, first though she resolved to give what little she could as a thank you to the rider who simply smiled at the innocent attempt.
Once she was stood alone though; she gently tore the opening a little more to reach and pull out a small, wooden box – it looked almost like a Puzzle or Music box, with intricately carved patterns adorning it, as she gentle rotated it around, she noticed it had no means to open it; what went unnoticed to Lydia though, was its effect on anyone else that saw it – the Box was only allowing her to look at it – any accidental glance provoked an unconscious shift that averted their attention away, like an effect that told the brain that it wasn’t meant to look.
“You was in my bag” she said quietly to herself, slowly turning it in her hand, looking for signs of where it was meant to be unlocked “How did you get inside my jacket?” she questioned the box quietly, like she was expecting an answer, after a moment though she felt the need to keep moving, she could try to work out her questions later, right now, she wanted to find her mother – she stuffed the box back into the opening within her jacket before beginning to walk to the ‘Royal Oak’ Public House.
Chapter 10:
Being that it was the afternoon – Lydia would discover that the inside of the Pub was busy, the sounds where overwhelming, coming from such an oppressive and silent Estate to a loud active Pub was jarring, the regular patrons shifted their attention from conversations to look at the young girl with confusion, others questioningly and then there was a few stares that simply made Lydia uncomfortable as she hesitantly approached the bar, her eyes landing on the barman as he cleaned glasses “Umm…, excuse me?” when she spoke, she spoke quietly – her voice a soft tone, the bartender almost didn’t even hear her due to how quiet her voice was
Shifting though, he looked at Lydia with a surprised expression in his eyes before quickly becoming more questioning as he leaned against the bar, eyeing her carefully “How can I help ya love?”
“Is…, a woman named Cathryn here?” Lydia enquired; her tone trembling but continued to remain soft – the look in her eyes was pleading
“Langdon?” the bartender slowly nodded “Aye Love, she is; the lass is downstairs taking stock at the moment” he tells her, he could see the moment of relief in Lydia’s face “Who should I say is asking for her?” he had already worked out who she was, the likeness between Mother and Daughter was uncanny
“Lydia” she answered softly – the bartender simply gave a slow nod in response before telling her to wait as he moved away from the bar; awkwardly, Lydia perched herself onto one of the stools, glancing about at the patrons, noticing some of them still staring at her making her feel uneasy
Shifting her attention away from them, her eyes fell onto the shelves where various bottles and glasses were, her thoughts drifting back to the events at the Manor as she begins wondering where William escaped too and what he intends to do, then her thoughts wandered to her Father and Sister, her head dropped slightly as she just found herself deep in thought.
Then she heard it, that soft, melodic voice of her mother – her attention immediately snapped up “Lydia” she heard repeated, twisting sharply, her eyes locked onto her mother, she was stood smiling at her, she didn’t need calling a third time, she practically jumped from the stool, knocking it back in her movement as she quickly beelined for her, rushing to hug her
Lowering herself quickly to intercept; Cathryn felt Lydia bump directly into her as she wrapped her arms around her in a tight, loving embrace “I take it, you have run away from your father?” Cathryn said softly, her hands gently rubbing Lydia’s back
“Yes” Lydia answered quietly, not wanting to let go, gently though she tilted her head back a moment to get a proper look at her mother “But…, I don’t think Elizabeth will be leaving” she says, noticing the disappointment, it was expected, Cathryn knew trying to get to Elizabeth would remain a difficult task – though, she resolved she would keep trying
“It doesn’t surprise me” Cathryn said, her voice gentle, soft as she let her lips curve into a soft smile “The last time I saw her, she was not willing to engage with me at all; too much like her father it would seem” gently pulling Lydia close again, she gave a soft kiss on the top of her head as she continued to hug her
“She looks exactly like you” the Bartender chimes, drawing Cathryn’s attention – she simply smiled in response before finally standing up to announce her intention to take Lydia back to her home so she can get some proper rest, Lydia learns the man’s name to be ‘Edward’ – he merely nods, recognising the importance, and watches as the Mother-Daughter pair leave the pub.
Lydia, feeling much safer now that she had been reunited with her mother accompanied her to her small lodgings – it was here she would encounter someone new; Anne Smythe.
“Who’s this then?” Anne greeted as she approached from the back room, Lydia hesitated a moment, her eyes meeting with her mothers, a silent exchange between them, Cathryn’s smile let Lydia know she was safe, before finally moving to approach Anne “You look just like your mother” Anne said softly, leaning to meet Lydia’s height – the exchange between Lydia and Anne would be warm, having never seen her before, she only knew Anne was someone important to her mother
“Your…, Grandma?” Lydia asked, her head tilting slightly to the left for a moment
Anne thought for a moment “I…,” her eyes shifted to Cathryn a moment; looking for a confirmation on what she should say, uncertain – she had never had a chance to meet Lydia before now, and she wasn’t entirely sure what role she actually had
“Your my Mother” Cathryn said softly “You’re her grandmother” she told her with a reassuring warmth to her voice; it made Anne’s features immediately warm up as she looked at Lydia again
As Anne gently gave Lydia a hug; it was within this moment that the three would be disturbed – a strange fellow made his presence known, unlike Cathryn and Anne; this new figure was a complete unknown to her, his entire aura and the air about him felt powerful; his mere presence changed the very air as he stepped out from the back room, he wore Robes, to Lydia he looked like a Tibetan Monk, despite the strangeness about him, he was polite and rather warm in his greeting, Lydia though still felt safest returning to her mother, uncertain of this ‘Monk’ as he shifted his gaze towards Anne a moment then to Cathryn before gently bowing and moving back into the room he’d been in.
Once everything was settled, Cathryn took Lydia to her bed and at quietly with her as she watched her fall asleep, gently stroking her face; she was glad to be reunited with her daughter; and intended to ensure Lydia’s safety – things from there though would hardly remain peaceful – not long later Cultists seeking revenge would attack and force Cathryn and Lydia to flee with the Monk – it would begin being Lydia’s training with her Mother and ‘The Monk’ as they would form their own ‘Crusade’ against the Imperium.
Written By: Westley H.
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