Chapter 22:
As the stranger got closer the aura that emanated became more palpable; like that of a building fury as the bullets did little to hinder the movement, and as the gap closed, it became clear it was a woman, her long black hair tied neatly, her features deceptive as power simply radiated from her, it was the eyes that truly drew attention though – amber-coloured with a subtle glow; like embers in a shadowed hearth.
She moved with a terrifying grace, unhurried and yet; she was relentlessly swift as she drew upon the largest Cultist who was taking yet another shot at her; but, panic filled as the gap had finally closed, her hand; despite being small and slender, shot out like a serpent, her fingers clasping around the man’s throat.
This small figure compared to such a beast of a man had completely seized him, he struggled violently but yet it was utterly ineffectual as he found himself painfully forced down below her to his knee’s; his eyes shifted now upwards to her, her gaze was of a being in the edge of breaking into fury, her amber eyes were piercing, the winds had begun to shift – when she spoke; it wasn’t a shout, but a low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through the very bone and cut through the desert air “You trespass” she declared, turning her attention towards the Cultists; her accent ancient and unplaceable, yet perfectly clear “You have defiled ground that your kind should never set foot”
The Cultists, numerically superior, found themselves terrified from one lone figure, everything had shifted, not just the power dynamic, but their very environment; winds that had begun to pick up were no longer the only shift, the blistering heat had also changed – a desert, a place basking in the heat of the sun began to feel cold, too cold for a sun so high above them – then, someone pointed, there was two more figure atop the crest of the hill that had begun moving, they were silent, approaching like the woman had.
The Cultist down on his knee’s choked a desperate plea for understanding “Who…, are you?”
Her eyes dropped back to the man she held by the throat, her eyes locking fiercely onto his; her tone softened for just a moment “Akaterine” she stated, the name itself seemed to carry weight of a forgotten time “And…” she returned her gaze to the Cultists “You are on Sacred Ground; a Place beyond your understanding, it is no place of plunder”
Within a moment, the realisation clicked – they realised just how much of a threat, how much power that these strange, inhuman beings were, the silent arrival of two more; one of which would reveal a terrifying truth of just how much of a power imbalance there really was – the figure stopped raising one hand while the second continued towards Akaterine.
The figure raising their hand clearly commanded the very environment around them as a sudden rumble, deep below began, not above, not below; but everywhere at once, the sand beneath their feet vibrated, the camp shook and swayed violently as the air thrummed with a deafening sound; the unmistakable, terrifying prelude to an earthquake.; panic erupted.
Heysham, Lancashire
It would be almost three weeks by the time word of the events in Mauritania would reach George within the Cultist bureau; a man completely removed from the otherworldly events happening in French African Colonies, untouched by the strange seismic events.
It was during his reading of a report that a telegram interrupted him, his gaze drifted up at the interruption, with an irritated expression he gestured to the messenger to approach before snatching the telegram and waving him back out; leaning back in his chair, George began reading.
“Catastrophic failure in Mauritania; the Temple has been compromised, Edward and Joséphine have escaped with massive losses, nothing has been recovered from what is clearly a repository, but encounter with an Unknown Entity; a being not of our world, with unnatural strength and impervious has sealed it, beneath the ground; costs for recovery would be too high, Entity identified as Female, named ‘Akaterine’, accompanied by two other figures, we advise extreme caution, and are awaiting instructions on our next action”
George raised his eyebrow, a faint, imperceptible line appearing as he looked at the name ‘Akaterine’ – it was not a name he had ever heard before, and despite the attention that this information surely warranted, George was disinterested; his focus at that moment was Cathryn and her ‘Hunters’ not something happening on a completely different continent, he simply folded the telegram with an unhurried precision, placing it amongst the stack of unimportant documents before resuming his previous actions; plans needed to be completely, Cathryn needed to be dealt with and the Hunters finally brought to their end.
Meanwhile; in Cloughton; Elizabeth and Miquel had been present in the Royal Anne Public House collecting information; as they were making their way out and into the quiet streets of Cloughton, a place still tense with recent killings, three more since Lydia and Thomas’ killing of Sinclair’s ‘Enforcer’ – Elizabeth shifted her eyes forwards as they finally felt the fresh air hit them, but a figure cutting directly into their path startled Elizabeth as she shifted her gaze.
Chapter 23:
As they came out, Elizabeth and Miquel walked directly into Astor – the distinctive clothing and weapons he carried so openly would typically make him stand out, yet, most seemed to miss him entirely, for Elizabeth and Miquel who had previous encounters earlier in the year, they recognised him; Miquel, sensing a threat moved quickly in front of Elizabeth shifting his hand towards a Mars Automatic holstered on his waist but hidden beneath his top that he usually always left untucked.
Astor, was quick to see the intended movement, even before Miquel had begun shifting his posture and he struck immediately, landing a decisive, powerful punch – delivered with speed and force that Miquel wasn’t expecting as Astor struck him squarely on chest; directly centre, the impact was sickeningly dull, a concussive shock that stole Miquel breath, slamming into bone and muscle with the force of a battering ram.
Miquel gasped, his eyes wide in pain and disbelief as he dropped to his knee’s clutching at his chest as a wave of nausea washed over him.
Elizabeth reacted instantly; her cold detachment had cracked into a sudden and fierce protectiveness – the polished mental gleamed as her hand brought it up to aim for Astor’s head; but like with Miquel, Astor had already anticipated her movement and with a sudden shift in momentum, he’d already seized her wrist, twisting sharply as it stopped Elizabeth’s movement; the shock was sudden and violently caused her finger to clench reflectively, the loud bang rang out, a deafening sound so close to Miquel which echoed out drawing attention – the bullet embedded itself harmlessly in the brickwork of a nearby building, a stark pockmark against the grimy façade.
Astor held Elizabeth wrist, his grip tight and unyielding; keeping her arm held towards the side; an acrid scent hung heavy in the air.
Taking a deep breath, Astor shook his head and as he spoke, he sounded almost weary “I am not here to fight you; I am here to warn you” Elizabeth stared at him uneasily; though Astor’s gaze was unseen, it felt unnervingly direct
Elizabeth kept her gaze on Astor, she wanted to pull her arm away, but the grip felt like a vice “Warn me about what?”
“George intends to strike your group at that dilapidated farm you have set up as your safehouse; I strongly advise you to get back and warn them before the attack happens” he tells her, his voice calm, soft even – but there was an undercurrent of urgency present
Elizabeth’s eyes seemed to widen at that warning; quickly, she pulled her arm away, Astor simply letting go as she did so recognising she knew the urgency; Elizabeth knew if something involved her father, it warranted full attention, despite Miquel still not fully recovering, Elizabeth grabbed him by the hand to try getting him up fast “Come on!” she snapped “Now soldier!”
Miquel raised his eyebrow at being given a command by Elizabeth as his eyes locked on her with a moment of bewilderment, but, he did rush himself despite struggling to breath; he simply gave Astor a quick glance before following Elizabeth as he started to cough, gently rubbing his chest.
Lancashire, East of Lancaster
With Cathryn’s recovery making progress and once again taking command, the group had once again been taking up their roles and following leads to strike at Cultist targets; the Safehouse had settled into a temporary sanctuary, the group unaware of the information Elizabeth had just learned.
Sat within the privacy of her own space, Lydia had become more and more accustom to having Thomas accompany her on her assignment and scouting missions, it had been drawing them closer, building a confidence that had now only become reserved for him, Thomas, like her Mother and Norina – he had become one of the only people to see the true side of her, the rawness that was usually only ever hidden in writings within her journal, usually her safe space, though with ever increasing closeness, Thomas had also become just that, she found him comforting, and she had begun realising she was starting to become attached, she wanted to be around him as much as possible, though she was wary of overstepping just as Thomas was wary of overstepping her; it created aa balance they wanted with one another.
It was during the fall of a darkened shroud across the sky, things would truly test them – the Cultists under Sinclair had acted without orders, George’s plans involved capturing the group completely, Sinclair though; he believed that launching an early attack would earn him a greater respect, believing his position as a Parliamentarian earned…, no, demanded respect, it was enough for him act on his own for a change instead of waiting.
A direct result of such an early action though, he was unaware that the only ones presently at the dilapidated farm was Lydia and Thomas at one ruined building, and Cathryn with Norina within another building.
Cathryn at present was watching over a sleeping Norina; while with Lydia and Thomas; they were simply enjoying their peace together.
Chapter 24:
As Lydia rested in Thomas’ lap, she was facing towards him; her hands against his chest, her left specifically was straightening out a crease that she had noticed much to Thomas amusement, her guard was completely gone, he saw the most vulnerable side of her and it just made him love her all that much more, even if he was yet to even use those specific words – once she’d finally straightened out the crease she gave a soft smile before lowering her hands down she simply looked him in the eyes as she smiled, Thomas slowly moved, reaching his hand to her face cupping her face which she instinctively leaned into.
“Lydia” Thomas breathed; they had been growing closer, that safety he offered her, that respect he gave; it had finally, truly broken through; she was beginning to get a grip on her own feelings towards him as she leaned in to him, faces close – usually, it had been Lydia that had been the initiator of physical contact, now, he was testing actively – he kissed her, it surprised her; she had a moment where she froze, almost stiffened in response, but didn’t pull away from him – she just relaxed, she recognised he was not a threat to her
Instead, Lydia’s eyes simply closed as she kissed just as urgently in response, her hands moving up again, cupping his face as she felt his arms around her waist; it took a moment before she felt his hands exploring across her back, gently rubbing, it increased her breathing – Thomas read the cues expertly as he lowered his hands back to her waist, stopping his action
It was during that moment though they would be disrupted, locked in that loving, tender moment; the Cultist under Sinclair’s command burst into the ruined building that had become their sanctuary, it jerked Thomas as he heard the movement before a loud sound ripped through the silence.
It was like a crack of thunder before a searing pain shot across Lydia’s shoulder, the impact threw her forwards with a choked gasp escaping her lips – in that instant Thomas took control, throwing himself over as he kept Lydia in his protective embrace, the movement itself positioned them behind the table which he quickly kicked forcing it over; though the wood splintered as loud thuds hit against it.
Blood; dark and hot bloomed on her shirt, a crimson stain clear as it seeped through the white of her shirt around her arm primarily around her shoulder, a tear present in the top indicating it looked more severe than it actually was – but the pain had caused her vision to swim as she found herself laying on the floor, the sounds of battle rang out around her – finally though, she regained some of her senses, and she shifted her attention towards her bag behind Thomas and try reaching for it, only pulling her hand back when the wooden boards splintered as a bullet struck the floor “Stay down!” Thomas shouted as he positioned himself as best he could knowing that any bullet could easily hit him as he used his own revolver to fire back; he maintained his calm composure despite the stress of the moment, but each of his shots would hit their mark, proving the training of a soldier to be far superior of untrained Cultists, his eyes narrowed as he shifted quickly when there was a pause in fighting, he made a quick check on Lydia checking that she was okay before pulling her to a better position to keep her safe as gunfire resumed yet again
Across at the other building though – the Cultists surprise strike would not have that same success – Cathryn, awake and watching over her adoptive daughter as she rested had heard movement, it drew her attention up as she snapped her eyes in the direction of the doorway.
A whisper of movement at the back wall, it was almost imperceptible but the sound was not of an idle creak of old timber, that was the first indicator for Cathryn as the air shifted; it felt heavier with a silent malice before the cracks of gunfire ripped into the silence, she immediately realised Lydia and Thomas were in danger “Norina; wake up, now” Cathryn’s voice was low but an urgent hiss
Norina, stirred, eyes blinking for a moment before snapping, recognising the sound of gunfire “Mamma?” she said quickly, terror filled her tone
“We’re in danger; do exactly as I tell you, and do not leave my side; understand?” Cathryn’s tone was low, but there was no mistaking her maternal care within that moment of danger, Norina gave a quick nod as she scrambled to her feet
When Cultists made their move against Cathryn; they believed it would be easy, like the attack clearly was on Lydia and Thomas – however, as soon as the door burst open the Cultists, along with corrupted Police found themselves rushing directly into an alert Cathryn – she had already made her move just as the door flew open; a cloud of powdered glass had just been thrown in a wide arch catching several of the men in the eyes and causing an immediately shift in momentum.
Cathryn, seizing the moment swung the Kukri Knife fast at the first Cultist that proved an immediate danger, dropping him in one strike before twisting sharply, a pained gasp escaping as she pointed “Out the back; now!” she commanded, her voice a steel whip
Norina didn’t hesitate; she scrambled through the window at the rear, her agility belying that gentle nature as Cathryn quickly followed behind her; the crack of gunfire continued to ring out across the farm, the darkness now would prove their best ally as they rushed from what had been the place of sanctuary into the overgrown fields, they shifted their attention towards where they knew Lydia and Thomas would be.
Then something unexpected happened – it was not gunfire, but a sharp explosion.
Just outside of the ruined sanctuary, a Cultist held a strange looking item, a rounded object made of cast iron holding a gunpowder charge with what looked like a wooden tail; a Ketchum Grenade.
Within the confines of the ruined building, Thomas noticed a change in momentum, and immediately recognised something wasn’t right; the realisation proving right as soon as he spotted the Cultist holding the grenade, he narrowed his eyes and immediately fired before dropping the revolver which would require time to reload and instead grabbed Lydia; shielding her as a miss-thrown grenade was set off with a sharp explosion.
Luckily for Thomas his last shot had been what had saved them; as he raised his head he glanced about before looking at Lydia’s pained expression, she was barely awake; shifting quickly, he grabbed Lydia’s bag, its Jian Sword swinging in motion of his movement as he threw it over his shoulder before hauling Lydia upwards, he wanted to be more gentle; but the urgency demanded he had to be fast – as he rushed from the building he encountered Cathryn and Norina coming their way “We need to go…, she’s been hit in the shoulder, I don’t know how bad it is”
Cathryn looked at Lydia’s face, her fingers quickly stroking her hair from her face before nodding to Thomas; they would use the darkness and overgrown farm to make their escape; meanwhile; George would arrive to the chaotic scene where he would encounter Sinclair.
George’s eyes were the first give away that Sinclair had truly messed up “Sir…” Sinclair croaked
“You defied my orders” George’s voice was calm, but the tone made it very obvious how much anger was now simmering just beneath the surface; it was ready to boil over into an explosive fury “You have just sent them into flight; they will be harder to track down!” he snapped
As George momentarily turned, Sinclair glanced away to look at the Cultists and Police present; but as he looked back to George he never managed to land his eyes onto him – a loud, thunderous crack ripped out as George pulled a revolver from one the Cultists, he coldly executed Sinclair without a moments of hesitation that startled those present “Get after them!” he demanded, his tone ripping out into the silence.
Chapter 25:
The predawn air hung heavy and cold as Elizabeth and Miquel raced through winding country lanes, the warning from Astor – it replayed in Elizabeth’s head as if on repeat, her father would be attacking, and it would be soon; she needed to warn her mother, panic was not usually something Elizabeth visible showed, her heart hammered her breath was heavy as she panted from exertion.
Miquel, his clothing wet from sweat watched Elizabeth carefully as he followed her, though; he also paid attention to their surroundings, his senses attuned keenly for every rustle and shadow.
When they finally reached the perimeter of what had been their safehouse – unaware of the early attack launched by Sinclair, the place still looked untouched from a distance, just a ruined isolated farm with its overgrown foliage.
It was as they was about to breach into the open that suddenly, Elizabeth felt a sudden grip on her arm, it yanked her backwards; Miquel – with a strong, but surprisingly gentle yank had pulled her backwards from the edge of exiting from the overgrowing foliage “Wait” he whispered; his voice a low rumble
Elizabeth’s nerves already stretched taut flinched – the sudden grab and unwarranted delay threatened to snap her carefully constructed control – her eyes narrowed as she turned her attention, she was about to unleash a sharp snap; before a word could escape her lips though; Miquel’s hand clamped firmly over her mouth and within a fluid motion dragged her downwards ensuring they are completely covered by overgrowth.
Elizabeth felt the cold, damp earth seep through her trousers, but the indignity she felt was secondary to the sudden, disorientating confusion that twisted her features.
Miquel; his dark eyes locked forwards with an intense focus, gestured silently as he shifted his gaze to her, locking his dark eyes with her Icy-Blue; it was a mere tilt of the head, but she recognised the gesture and looked.
There, at one of the ruined buildings she knew was used by Lydia to maintain her privacy had no door; there seemed to also be structural damage caused by a possible explosion; but it was the figure stood in the doorway that made her realise why Miquel had stopped her “I believe we have arrived too late” Miquel says softly
“No…, no” Elizabeth shook her head “Didn’t…, didn’t he tell us we had to warn and relocated…, surely that meant we had time…, Miquel?”
Miquel looked at the rising panic in her face “Maybe the attack came earlier than he expected” he felt her body tremble beside him, it was so uncharacteristic of someone so usually cold and detached; but he understood “We need to get out of here before we found” gently he pulled Elizabeth with him as he began their withdrawal
Hours Earlier, after their escape from the dilapidated farm; Thomas; carrying a now unconscious Lydia, with Cathryn and Norina following the direction he was going, they had no clue where then could go – but anywhere forwards was better than being captured by the Cultists.
He felt Lydia’s head nestled against his shoulder; but his concern was the wetness that he could feel sweeping through the fabric of his own top; the warmth of it; they had to finally slow down, they needed to check the seriousness of the wound to Lydia’s shoulder, slowly, he lowered her down to the ground.
As Thomas knelt down, he saw, even in the darkness the deep crimson covering Lydia’s shoulder, it ran down her arm, and had left a considerable stain on his own clothing; pulling the bag off from over his shoulder, he handed it over to Cathryn as he moved carefully; he then looked around for somewhere to go “We need to do something” Thomas rasped “Or she is going to bleed to death”
Cathryn knelt down beside him, her eyes quickly assessing her daughter, then looked around; she noticed something in the distance and pointed “A Cottage is that way; let’s see if we can get help”
Thomas gave a quick nod as he raised Lydia back up; they soon started moving with urgency towards the small cottage; Norina would reach it first, immediately she began to bang her fist against the door, not stopping until someone finally opened it; her face expressing utter terror as she reverted completely to her native language “Abbiamo bisogno di aiuto” her voice was desperate; the elderly woman that had opened the door looked utterly confused
“We need help” Thomas said as he finally rushed up behind Norina alongside Cathryn “She got a severe shoulder wound” he told the older woman with a raw voice
The elderly woman’s surprise and confusion gave way to a quiet, unreadable assessment; her gaze lingering on the unconscious girl, the pale face and very clear dark crimson visible along a white shirt; she stepped aside to let them in without a word – Thomas quickly placed Lydia down in front of the fireplace, its glow providing an illumination that enabled him a better visibility of the injury, Norina; moving up behind him looked at her adopted sister.
Thomas wasn’t wasting any more time though; he tore the shirt open to get to the wound, Norina lowering herself down beside him while Cathryn followed the elderly woman to collect cloths, bowls of water and whatever else was available.
Chapter 26:
The warm glow of the fire did little to dispel that coldness Norina felt settling in her bones – her medical knowledge had so often proven useful, now though; as she knelt beside Thomas to begin checking Lydia, she was overwhelmed, she tried to staunch the flow, her hands covering in her sisters blood as she started trembling, her mind was a jumbled cacophony of fear and a sudden inadequacy.
It simply became to overwhelming, Norina’s breath hitched as a silent sob escaped, she moved her left hand smearing blood across her face as she began freezing up, she didn’t know what to do; the scale of the injury required a skilled hand – a knowledge Norina lacked “Norina…, Norina relax” Thomas gently gripped her shoulder
“Here child” the elderly woman’s voice was calm; a soft murmur of authority that cut through the tense overwhelming emotions consuming Norina; without hesitation, the woman eased Norina back, a gentle movement but it was firm; as the elderly woman shifted to Lydia, Norina found herself being embraced By Cathryn allowing her the moment to break down
Cathryn kept Norina in a warm but firm embrace as her attention shifted towards the older woman, she exchanged a glance at Thomas as they realised that this woman was taking over, her movements were fluid, deliberate and imbued with a quiet confidence that indicated years of experience.
The elderly woman spoke in a low soothing tone, not to Lydia; but the air, practical instr5uctions to herself as she worked, her fingers probing with an almost surgical precision; she used various small tools she had brought out, most rudimentary and simple – a needle and thread pulled from a small sewing kit, she worked with an ease that suggested mastery far beyond that of just a simple countrywoman.
As the moment finally calmed, as the rhythm him of the woman’s work filled the small cottage; Cathryn turned to Thomas once more as she kept felt Norina finally calming down within her embrace, when she smoke; her voice was low “Thomas; I need you to travel to Halton.., to go intercept Damir and Erin before they begin transporting those supplies back to the farm; if the Cultists are there waiting still, they’ll walk right into a trap”
Thomas gave a quick nod “What of Elizabeth?”
“I sent Miquel with Elizabeth to gather information in Cloughton; I trust your comrade to keep her safe, he’s proven to be just as resourceful as you are; but Damir and Erin; they will be unprepared for an encounter with a cart full of supplies” Cathryn looks at Thomas carefully, her eyes pleading
“Will you be alright?” Thomas questioned as he started moving towards the door; he looked at her carefully – Cathryn simply smiled and gave an affirmative nod, Thomas smiled, then, casting glance back to Lydia, he departed from the cottage
The morning hours; as the dawn was now seeing the light of the early morning sun – like how Elizabeth and Miquel would learn by their visual of Cultists – Erin and Damir would also learn of what has happened, but they would learn it directly from Thomas.
At the cottage, Lydia still remained unconscious, but she was stabilised, the bleeding stopped – wound carefully cleaned and stitched, bound tightly with clean linen, her breath had become more steady even if shallow, but at least, regular; she was resting, she had been on the edge, but the Elderly woman’s skill proved invaluable.
As the Elderly woman cleaned her hands, her face serene with a knowing smile looked towards Cathryn and Norina as they sat beside Lydia.
When the sun had full risen; the cottage was bathed in a bright and warm golden light, stripping away the nights horrors and replacing it with a fragile, uneasy peace; Thomas had returned with Erin and Damir, Erin moved to join Cathryn and Lydia, her arms gently wrapping around Norina as she directed her concerned gaze at Lydia; she felt Norina leaning back, resting against her as Cathryn momentarily met Erin’s concerned gaze.
Damir, he stood by the door observing and speaking with Thomas in a concerned, hushed tone; it was only when Cathryn finally approached them, the full scale of what has happened could be properly spoken of, Cathryn now needed to locate Elizabeth and Miquel, her attention also momentarily flickered to Xian, questioning where he may have gone too and the likeliness of him evading any possible ambush.
Once an agreement was reached; Thomas and Damir waited outside – with urgency no longer a concern, Thomas respected the need for Lydia’s privacy fully once again; her top having been removed, leaving her topless above the waist – the Elderly woman, after a momentary disappearance would return to provide a new, clean shirt and would assist Cathryn with getting it onto the unconscious girl – once covered, Thomas would re-enter to pick Lydia’s limp body up, choosing to carry her on his back; her light, limp frame simply rested there as the group departed, the Elderly Woman exchanging a warm smile with Cathryn.
Chapter 27:
Meanwhile, far from the group – on the direct outskirts of Lancaster, Elizabeth and Miquel had managed to find a place of rest in an abandoned old mill.
The mills skeletal stone wall provided ample concealment and protection, but little comfort, and with the morning sun now high above, it cast a bleak, grey pallor over where the two was resting mirroring Elizabeth’s internal landscape.
Her detached cold exterior was gone; a raw, uncharacteristic emotion was visible, etched in her expression as she sat silently; her mind a whirling mess of thoughts about her sister and mother; no, her ‘Sisters’ and Mother; she brought her knee’s up as she rested her back against the wall.
Miquel; observing her took a deep breath, he understood the sudden shift – her concern, her worry; no matter what she might try to claim, it was all there; slowly, he approached and lowered himself down beside her.
Normally; Elizabeth would have been aggressively demanding him move, maybe even recoil from someone being within her personal space; his body was physically touching her; instead of moving though; she leaned into it, her head dipped slightly, landing softly against his chest as she turned somewhat in his direction.
His touch was steady, reassuringly warm that offered her some comfort – though there was something else impacting Elizabeth; tiredness – unlike Lydia who so often struggled with sleeplessness, usually allowing her to work on very little rest – Elizabeth was not use to such exertion, she felt not just emotionally overwhelmed but physically struggling.
Miquel, uncertain for a moment hesitated before shifting; putting his arm around her shoulder and provide hat extra warmth, that extra comfort as she remained close against him; they simply sat like that, a silence, peaceful and content stretched – it was a comfortable silence.
French Mauritania
Since sending the Cultists into retreat three-weeks earlier; Akaterine and her companions had ensured that contents of the Repository were untouched, shifting her attention; her gaze fell upon Nicon – Nicon was a being of immense authority whom simply radiated power that rippled the very air, his eyes a luminous and piercing gold.
He stood wearing the same alien-like robes, his attention drifting slowly as he surveyed the intricate patterns across the floor as if reading a passage from town “They shall return” he said; his voice echoed, not with mere sound, but with a pressure that settled upon the soul “They know of its location, its contents will act as a pandora’s box
“I have said many times; it is time to abandon Humanity its fate” Akaterine’s gaze remained locked, her hands clasped behind her back “Elpis fell for the hubris of Mortal Kind, and she suffered as a result, why do you insist on keeping us on this path?” she questioned; her voice a balance of emotion
“I continue because that is our role” Nicon answered, his attention returning to her “Elpis believed in Humanity and their potential, she was not blind to their evil, she acknowledged it, she believed deeply that they were deserving of our compassion”
“These…, ‘Creatures’ deserve nothing” her tone took a momentary sneer, as she shifted her gaze away “A Mortal struck a violent blow against us, and instead of retaliating by destroying them, we intervene to protect them from one of our own”
Nicon shook his head slowly before his gaze returned to the large shelves “Travel northwards Akaterine, find Daniil, he should be keeping watch over his student and her daughter, pass on the information regarding this temple to them”
“What can they do exactly?” Akaterine locked her gaze to Nicon
“Enough arguing; I gave you an instruction, follow it” he turns back to look at her, his eyes glowing, almost pulsating as Akaterine finally bowed her head
The third of their little group emerged from between the bookshelves, his hands resting behind his back; his demeanour was more reserved, steeped in contemplative silence – he was a planner, a strategist amongst their kind “And what of this place Nicon” he queried, his voice softer, less commanding than Nicon’s, yet carried as much weight behind it, his eyes a brilliant amber, much like Akaterine, turn burning embers “To leave it unguarded invites them commit further transgression”
Nicon’s gaze shifted to his companion – Gallus; he then lets his gaze drift across the chamber, touching each hieroglyph, each ancient relic as if bidding them farewell; there was a profound sadness, but a realised necessary sacrifice “I intend to sink the entire structure” he said simply, Gallus giving a slow nod
A tremor that was both subtle, yet profound began to vibrate across the very stone as the air grew thick with the impending weight of the earth – the thought of such a repository of knowledge, of history being swallowed by the desert was a better alternative to the misuse of the knowledge shelved within the very chamber an acknowledgement of how dangerous Humanity would be with access to knowledge beyond their comprehension.
Lancaster, Lancashire
It was by the late evening in the abandoned mill when Elizabeth found herself laying on the ground – strangely, it was unusually comfortable, a familiar discomfort was there from the rough texture of the floor, but, it was mostly unnoticeable.
Slowly; she began to realise her face was resting against something warm…, something soft, it felt like fabric, shifting slowly, she moved her hand to help push herself up despite her grogginess, a half-formed grunt of protest at the intrusion of consciousness, though it ceased abruptly as something clicked; She wasn’t alone.
Her icy-eyes snapped around, she twisted her body as her gaze fell onto the figure watching her; she remembered; Miquel, her head had been resting against his leg as she felt both a prickle of alarm but also embarrassment – then, words tumbled from her mouth, before her brain could even register both her tone and what she was saying “Did…, Did you do anything to me?” the accusation was sharp and immediate, it cut through the quiet
Miquel though, he just chuckled, it was a low rumbling sound that was out of place for the abandoned mill – he recognised her need to assert herself, even if she didn’t realise; she had usually always been detached and, unlike Lydia with her usual stoic façade intent to hide kindness and emotion, Elizabeth’s coldness was her entire personality, a result of her Cultist upbringing, he shook his head, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners “Nah love, I just eased you down when you started to fall asleep, you wouldn’t have been comfortable the way you was sat up twisting your neck” he told her “Though it would be more comfortable if you were laying down and had something to rest your head against”
Thinking carefully, it processed how she sounded, the accusatory tone, the abruptness and sharp voice – like it had that morning, her composure momentarily cracked as she looked at him with an apologetic expression “I…, forgive me, I didn’t mean…”
Miquel shook his head “Hey Love, no need; we’re on the same team, I am not going to take offence” he said, his voice a little softer; he smiled, a warm, genuine smile
Usually, Elizabeth would be repelled by such displays of emotions, yet, she didn’t feel that as she looked at Miquel, she thought carefully as she slowly positioned herself, seeing her intention, Miquel got up first and offered her his hand, Elizabeth’s eyes flickered with surprise, but she reached for it and slowly rose up reaching just beneath his chin – the height difference between them was not as significant as the difference between Lydia and Thomas, but, it was still somewhat noticeable for Elizabeth as she grinned “Thank you” her voice regained its usual clipped tone – that usual ‘upper-class’ accent she had
Miquel simply winked before gesturing “So Ma’am…, what do you want us to do?”
Elizabeth’s surprise returned “You’re asking me?” she couldn’t hide the confusion present in her voice as Miquel gave a slow nod
“Well…, you are Cathryn’s daughter, I suspect you want to go find her and your sister; correct?, or do you have a different plan in mind, I am here to ensure your safety” he told her with a smile
Elizabeth found herself crossing her arms as she maintained her grin, shifting her gaze about “We’ll wait here, keep watch on the road, see if my mum comes this direction, or if someone we know comes at least, if no one does…, I am not sure…, I am not exactly…”
“Not use to operating in this manner” Miquel finished he maintained his smile “I know; like I said, I am here to keep you safe”
Chapter 28:
Travelling most of the day; the group made use of the Cart containing supplies, originally intended for the dilapidated farm, but now, it was not only serving as a transport for their supplies, but also Lydia, initially Thomas was more than happy to carry her, but a realisation set in – they may need him for defence, with a reluctance, yet understanding the need, he had put Lydia down on the Cart, ensuring she was in a comfortable position, even if she was yet to wake.
The cart simply bumped along the dirt-road, Lydia’s still form gently swaying to each movement, completely unaware of what was even going on in her unconscious state.
With a rifled now available to him, he openly carried it on his shoulder, holding the strap as the Lee-Enfield gently swayed with the marching of his movement – it was a deterrent for the unlikely event of a Road-Side thug, but most certainly would help should the Cultists discover their movement.
Cathryn, despite a slight limp still present shifted her gaze to Thomas as she walked beside him “Thank you” she said, her voice quiet
Thomas shifted his gaze, he was a little surprised “For what?” he asked, genuinely confused by her gratitude
“Protecting Lydia” Cathryn gave a gentle smile as she looked forwards, she could see a mill in the dim light that they could make a stop at “Not just at the Farm…, but since you joined our group, you have shown so much determination in protecting her, even in the face of the initial hostility she showed in the Himalayan Mountains”
Thomas gave a gentle smile, shifting his gaze back at the cart a moment, he held a rather saddened look “I am in love with her” he said softly, returning his gaze back to Cathryn
“I’m aware” Cathryn offered a warm smile “Don’t make me regret these words please…, but…, I feel your perfect for my daughter, as long as she wants to pursue that kind of relationship with you”
Thomas gave a nod “I won’t” he smiled again “And I shall go only as far as she wants, I will not overstep, I won’t push; if she is comfortable, then that is what matters to me”
“You’re an usual lad” Cathryn chuckled “Never met someone as strange as you” Thomas grinned happily, beaming even, taking her comment as a compliment
As they continued to walk, they noticed something in the distance, Thomas, moved forwards bringing the rifle from his shoulder so it was very clearly visible for whoever was approaching them; though at the realisation of Miquel approaching with Elizabeth he let out a sigh of relief “Elizabeth” Cathryn said happily, surging forwards despite a momentary return of pain – Elizabeth was surprised, but, she understood the happiness as she offered a warm smile
Thomas approached Miquel, clapping their hands together in a brotherly greeting “Hey Lad, you missed the action at the farm”
“I know brother” Miquel gave a warm smile “Unfortunately we got there too late once we were told about the attack”
“You were told?” Cathryn questioned; Norina slowly moved up, she was still wary of Elizabeth, but, she was happy to see her oldest sister was perfectly fine – Elizabeth, shifting her attention to Norina offered her a smile, as he eyes scanned the group; she looked to Erin, then Damir, but noticed something as she begin growing concerned
“Lydia?” Elizabeth said sharply, moving forwards as she looked about
“The cart” Cathryn said quickly, gesturing; watching as her eldest daughter rushed; Cathryn followed behind her; the casual calmness Elizabeth had just a moment ago, was gone; replaced by an intense concern that was never usually shown as she reached the side of the cart
“What happened?” Elizabeth twisted around sharply, looking at her mother
“She was hit during the attack; lost consciousness due to blood loss, she should be okay” Cathryn shifted her gaze to Lydia’s unconscious form a moment as Norina approached gingerly “Is that mill safe?” Cathryn queried, Elizabeth, returning her focus to Lydia gave a quick nod; Cathryn gently squeezed Elizabeth on the shoulder before gesturing towards the mill – that would become their temporary shelter
The 1st of June
Liverpool, Merseyside
At the bustling docks of Liverpool the air was thick with the black plumes of coal smoke, and cries of gulls; a polyglot of shouts, it was a busy, bustling port as ships arrived and departed with careful navigation – one ship that had travelled from Africa had finally reached the shores of Britain, its immense hill a dark silhouette against a grey morning sky.
Among the throngs of passengers disembarking, two figures stood out; Edward and Josphine – since their escape from the strange beings that had attacked them in Mauritania, they had been struggling to get to grips with the things they had witnessed, the scale of destruction and death unleashed; as they stepped onto the grimy docks, their path was suddenly intercepted by a man dressed in a drab, unassuming attire “Mr and Mrs MacQuoid?” he inquired, his voice low but cutting through the dockside din
“Yes?” Edward answered with wariness, his hand drifting towards the holster hidden beneath his jacket which hung just past his hips.
“A message from George Smythe; you are to travel immediately to Heysham” the stranger told them before simply spinning around on his heels and walking away
Joséphine’s brow furrowed; there was a rare flicker of confusion visible in his expression, her knowledge of British geography was quite limited “Heysham?” she questioned “Where is that Edward”
Edward looked at her, placing his hand at the back of her waist, gesturing forwards; as they moved, he spoke “North of here my dear; a town near Lancaster” he smiled as they continued to move amongst the crowd
Chapter 29:
Lancaster, Lancashire
As the light of the sun pierced the cracks of the window; Lydia had awoken a few days earlier, let a groan escape her lips as she lay on a makeshift cot, partially propped up by feed sacks, her eyes were still groggy, and pain was a constant sensation across her shoulder, but – it wasn’t going to be stopping her, her steely façade had returned, her desire for revenge had surged.
She felt humiliation at being attacked in such a vulnerable state, she had begun questioning if what her mother and Norina said was right; was love acceptable if it meant risking herself to potential attack….., her eyes softened though, lifting her right hand, she gently placed her finger against her lips, since waking, she had purposely distanced herself out of fear, Thomas had respected the decision, but continued to check in only for her to simply grunt a confirmation.
Resolving to reclaim what she felt had been seized from her; she finally got off the cot, she painfully moved her arm from its sling and moved towards where her bag and Jian were sat; as she knelt down, she looked through her belongings a moment before shifting and reaching for her worn, but sturdy working boots; tying the lace around the top of the footwear at her ankle before struggling to get her jacket on then pulled the bag strap over her head, and let it rest against her shoulder, a pain that just shot through her as the wait of the Jian, something that had never bothered her, felt so much heavier as it tugged her bag downwards against her hip
As Lydia made the decision to go out solo, she only made it halfway from the abandoned mill before she realised, she was being followed, turning back to find Thomas walking in her direction “Go back” she told her, her eyes narrowed
“No” he said simply “I know your angry…, I know you are feeling shame; but don’t do this, if you want to prove yourself, then do it against me” he came to a stop once he had reached her, he looked down towards her, locking his eyes with hers “Because…, I am not letting you get yourself killed to prove something that everyone here knows”
“You don’t get to decide for me!” she snapped; lashing out, her hand had instinctively moved towards the hilt, Thomas had kept watch of each of her movement; but, he could see the pain she was fighting in her eyes, there was an occasional distant look signalling her body tensing up from her movement
“I am not deciding for you; I am deciding my own action, which is to stop you” Thomas shifted his arm back; he knew exactly what she was going to do, her hostility was telegraphing her every intention, as he prepared his movement, his eyes momentarily narrowed – then it came, just as expected, he twisted as he moved sideways, he knew he had to be wary of harming her in his own defence, which, with a sword coming at him, would prove difficult
She tugged the sword, it sliced through the air as she pulled it directly into a strike from its scabbard, her movement though was hindered as her twisting movement pulled at her shoulder causing a sharp breath before she persisted, stepping forwards and thrusting the sword forwards like a spear
Drawing a knife free, he held it in a reverse grip, using it only to parry or block when he had too as he repositioned himself, watching her struggling movement; stepping back, he brought the knife forwards to deflect yet another sluggish strike which clanged as metal struck metal, he watched Lydia’s own movement throw her off.
Gritting her teeth she pushed though; trying to position herself before barging into him with her shoulder; though the sharp pain sent her reeling rather than Thomas as he eyes widened; Thomas, reacting quickly grabbed the front of her jacket before she fell backwards, steadying her before pulling her forwards, placing his arm gently around her good shoulder “It’s okay Lydia”
“It’s not!” she felt her voice tremble as she stayed still; she didn’t try pulling away, the safety was there, he wasn’t a threat and her anger was beginning to simmer as she pushed her face against his abdomen “It isn’t okay!” she repeated, her voice muffled by his clothing
They simply stood there for a long moment before finally she lifted her head, looking up at him to see him looking down at her, her chin trembled a little “I’m sorry” she whispered before returning her face against his abdomen, hiding her expression as she fought to maintain her composure
“I would rather you attack me Lydia; then go putting your life at risk” he said softly, after a moment, he gently moved her back before lowering himself directly to her height and moving his hand to cup her face – that instinctive movement kicking in before Lydia could acknowledge as she leaned her face into his hand “I do not think you realise exactly how much I care about you, but I do understand why; come, lets return back to the others”
Bringing Lydia close again, he gently took the bag from her, lifting it up and over her head before moving it over his own head to rest it against his shoulder, returning her sword to its scabbard, gently he returned his arm around her and walked her back – the entire exchange though had been observed by Cathryn, a gentle smile present but also a wariness
Written By: Westley H.
Leave a Reply