Original Story: Missing / Chasing Shadows: The Mystery of Lydia’s Disappearance
The Imperium Chronicles
The Missing
Updated
Introduction:
Dover, England
January, 1910 A.D.
Born to the sadistic George Smythe on December 21st of 1890 – 4-Hours after her Older twin; Elizabeth who was born December 20th; Lydia was immediately marked as different, unlike her icy sibling who matched their father in both personality, physical appearance and loyalties; Lydia was the miniature embodiment of her mother.
Sharing the same innocent, slender look with long raven-dark hair that was so often tied back into either a ponytail or chignon, Lydia was seen in the first 15-years of life as the weak-link who craved her mother despite every effort George made to break the bond between mother and daughter; after her escape in 1905 during the Estate Blaze caused by the Older Half-Brother; William, Lydia would train under her mother as an Anti-Imperium Hunter to par-take in her mother’s heritage to combat the Imperium; a shadowy organisation that acted as a governing body for various Cultist factions across the globe, and would serve to act as a last line of defence against Imperium interests in various mysterious artefacts from a mysterious celestial species that had vanished beyond the veil since the fall of one of their own; Elpis and forced the entrapment of another that became the ‘Dark master’ the Imperium sought without true understanding.
Travelling across Europe, Africa and Asia; Lydia would learn from her mother and the enigmatic figure; The Monk, learning to blend Western and Eastern styles, being trained in pressure-point precision to compensate for her small, slender frame that lacked overall physical strength but served perfectly for catching an opponent by surprise – the gifted Jian would become the most common weapon she carried, priding it as her most important possession.
In December of 1907 during a Himalayan encounter – a distrustful Lydia would encounter a British regiment where she would encounter a Lancastrian local; Thomas Davidson who took an immediate interest in her despite her hostility – going on to rescue her in early 1908 and late 1908 and again in early 1909 with a promise to join her.
That promise would finally come to fruition in January of 1910 – after reaching a Safehouse in Dover, Lydia alongside her mother; the icy older-twin; Elizabeth and the adopted sister; Norina, she would overhear from a Hunter ally during his discussion with her mother about a recent contact from a suspicious individual from the Army Lydia’s eyes immediately widened ‘He kept ‘is word’ she thought.
Chapter 1:
When Cathryn’s group arrived into the Dover safehouse, they were greeted by an older man who stepped into the foyer; a lean, powerful frame despite his age as he moved forwards; Lydia recognised the figure immediately from a prior encounter in Trieste who had helped after her mother recover following an experience that had resurfaced old trauma; Jesse.
“Ey up, wasn’t expectin’ ye to be arrivin’ ‘ere” Jesse greeted, his voice a rough throaty-rumble as he looked towards Cathryn, his gaze drifted to Cathryn’s daughters – two of them he already knew; Lydia, the blood related one and the adopted Italian; Norina.
There was no mistaking Lydia – she was identical, the only difference; height, Cathryn stood taller than Lydia – and he had even met the adopted daughter before in Trieste; Norina, who had an eerie resemblance to both Cathryn and Lydia, making her look like Lydia’s actual twin despite the 2-Year age difference.
The one he had not yet met, was Elizabeth; Elizabeth was a female embodiment of her father; George Smythe, sharing his Blonde Hair that she wore in a refined chignon, the fringe drifting slightly over her icy-blue eyes – a sharp difference from Cathryn, Lydia and even Norina who shared the same Silvery-Grey eyes.
“An this one mus’be the famous icy-lass then eh?” Jess looked at Elizabeth carefully, then returned his attention towards Cathryn “We’ve had a visitor, a lad from up north, soldier I am a lil’suspicious of ‘im turnin’ up way he did”
“A soldier?” Lydia piped up; her voice soft, almost like a gentle bell as it blended her usual Cockney and Northern English blend, she sounded hopeful “Does he stand like up ‘ere?” she gestured as she purposely rose up onto the tips of her toes trying to indicate a really tall individual causing a slight chuckle to escape Jess
“Aye; he does” Jess gave a nod, his grin wide “You know ‘im?” he queried, voice curious as he looked at Lydia carefully
“She does indeed” Elizabeth chimed; her refined clipped tone drawing Jess’s eyes “She seems to have some…, fascination for the oversized individual”
“Keep ye gob shut love” Lydia shot, her eyes narrowing as she looked towards her elder twin with an irritated gaze; Elizabeth merely rolled her eyes before moving away, and wandering further within the safehouse
Jess gave a subtle shake of his head as he exchanged a grin with Cathryn “Well…, if ye know ‘im, then you luv can go meet ‘im while I talk with ya mam”
Lydia gave a quick nod “Where do I go to meet ‘im?” she said with restrained excitement almost bouncing at the prospect of encountering him again
“He made mention of a pub down road” Jess rumbled “Take a reet down on the corner and ye can’t miss it; got a big sign on the front sayin’ Grand Oak”
“Thankin’ ye Jess” Lydia smiled, turning sharply and moving immediately back to the door, her jacket snapping at her sharp turn, the satchel strapped across her body and resting against her hip swung a little more than usual as the Jian Sword attached to it moved with the momentum of her turn and was out before Cathryn could even speak
“Alright” Cathryn gave a soft smirk before looking towards Jess “Somethin’ tells me shoo excited to find that soldier”
Leaving the safehouse; Lydia was moving swiftly down the street, at speed, comments and shouts followed her, she barely even heard them as she darted through the street, her ankle-length boots gripping the wet ground as she took corners at speed, when she spotted the ‘Grand Oak’ at the front of the Pub ahead of her, she smiled wide and continued towards it.
Inside the Grand Oak it was a bustling atmosphere of rough, hard working lads enjoying a pint and talking about various topic’s from politics to simply workers spats; towards the bar itself a gaint of a man stood there wearing sturdy pants and a military-issued jacket covering over a simple shirt.
His hair was short and dark; face rough-shaven with piercing blue eyes like a warm ocean, as he took the two glasses, he gave a slight curt, nod “Cheers luv” he said with a rough tone to the barmaid before moving back and carefully manoeuvring around two other lads before settling at the table where his comrade who’d served alongside him in the army; Miquel, a Kenyan-born soldier named after his French father, Miquel, his presence drew the occasional glance “Do you think she’ll be here soon then?” Miquel queried “It has been a few days now my friend”
“Patience mate” Thomas grinned “’ave a bit of faith in me, I am tellin’ ye, joining up with ‘em will mean we get a proper understanding of what it is they are actually doin’ reet…”
“And you get to be around her yes?” Miquel let out a rough chuckle of amusement “I have already got you there my friend; so has most of the regiment, we know you fancy the woman”
“I ain’t gonna lie; it’s one of the reasons I want to join up with ‘em, but come on mate, you have gotta admit, all this stuff we’ve seen, the ‘Imperium’ the ‘Cultists’ the shadowy puppeteers we’ve fought, it is all real interestin’ wouldn’t ye agree?”
“Fine, fine my friend; but if trouble comes, you will owe me” Miquel grinned as he took a swig from his glass before noticing a shift by the door raising his eyebrow gesturing “Something seems to have drawn attention over there”
As Thomas looked to where Miquel gestured; they both watched the way some older gents starts murmuring about ‘shouldn’t be in’ others whistling with a sudden sharpness – when it became clear why, Thomas’s eyes widened with recognition.
When Thomas’s eyes finally spotted what was causing the stir, his pint hovered hallway to his lips “Bloody ‘ell, she’s here” he breathed
As Lydia manoeuvred through people quickly, but politely, she looked directly towards the bar and quickly came up to it talking just that little bit louder than she would do normally “’Scuse me; I am lookin for a soldier ‘bout this big…” she gestured randomly to a position above her head “Got dark hair and really nice eyes”
“I’m behind ya luv” Thomas called out – Lydia barely even heard him initially over the crowd and her own heartbeat as she heard the subtle pulsating in her ears, recognising the rough tone though, she span around, eyes quickly moving to scan before landing on the familiar broad shouldered figure she recognised – the man who’d managed to break through various barriers and earn her trust through repeated acts of heroism as she moved towards the table quickly
Thomas standing to greet her “Ey up luv, it’s been awhile since we last saw ye” he took her in with a warm smile – the sight of her, she hadn’t changed at all, not that he expected a change within 11 months, but still; she retained the same style of clothing and the Jian Sword still a permanent presence at her side “Still wearin’ the Serbian crest eh?” he gestured to the arm badge present on her jacket before they sat at the table “Been waitin’ for ye to turn up ‘bout a week now”
“There was…, complications” Lydia admitted “We got ‘eld up in the Alps, we originally wasn’t comin’ back to England we was meant to be travelling to Norway, got word ‘bout my father’s Cultists tracking somethin’ here so we turned our attention here”
“Complications?” Thomas raised his eyebrow, a look of concern visible in his gaze “What’s been happening since we last spoke in Burma?; you ‘aven’t been chased by that posh toff again ‘ave ye?”
“Albert…” Lydia gave a slow nod “He…,” she hesitated, the excitement seemed to evaporate suddenly as he eyes grew distant “He’s dead now…, I killed him”
Thomas saw the distant look as he leaned forwards “He didn’t….” he looked at her carefully – Lydia slowly shook her head
“Nearly” she said softly looking away for a moment “But that wasn’t why we took so long…, someone was manipulating my mother; we had to sort ‘im out and deal with the consequences of his manipulations, so we had to stay in the Alps some place called Saint-Maurice”
Thomas gave a slow nod as he looked at her carefully – clearly, there was a lot that he had not been present for after Lydia had departed Burma a year earlier; it made him more determined now to maintain his promise to join the group; Lydia’s expression took a moment before it lit-up again as she pulled free the metal chain around her neck, freeing the small identification disk that Thomas had given her before she had left “I’ve still got it” she whispered softly eliciting a warm, happy smile from Thomas.
Chapter 2:
When Thomas and Miquel entered the Hunter’s safehouse with Lydia, they found the greeting from Jesse was very different from their first encounter, now, they were welcomed warmly – recognised as allies rather than potential threats and for the first time; they would sit at a true meeting between a secretive organisation as they discussed operations on how to proceed against Cultist activities in England; Jesse gesturing to a map as he spoke about the Northern shires.
Leaning forwards, Thomas gave a subtle rise in his brow as he looked at the circled markers over sections of the map; Manchester, various places across Yorkshire and even marked locations to his native home; Lancaster.
Miquel gave a subtle tilt of his head as he gently nudged Thomas, indicating to the number of markings on the map before gesturing with his head at who’s at the table; there wasn’t enough of them to cover that much ground.
“I’ve noticed mate” Thomas whispered softly “But, we’ve just joined ‘em, might be more of ‘em for all we know tha’we ain’t met yet”
Jesse gave a quick glance to the two new arrivals before looking towards Cathryn “These two will be part of your group then eh?” he gave a slow nod at the same time Cathryn nodded in confirmation “Right then lads” he turned his gaze towards them “This’ll be different from army, we operate in shadow, not loud”
“Ain’t a problem mate, we can work without drawin’ attention too” Thomas grinned
“Good to hear it Davidson” Elizabeth chimed with a subtle grin curving her lips “Teaching you what you’re getting involved in will require learning on the move I am afraid, there is unfortunately, not enough time for inducting either of you”
Jesse shot Elizabeth a brief look – irritation flickering behind his dark eyes, she herself was still learning how the Hunters operated, why she, the once loyal-daughter to George, believed herself superior grated him, a slow shake of his head that wasn’t missed by Cathryn.
“I have faith in these two” Cathryn vouched before gently patting her hand against her daughter’s back “And in Elizabeth, she knows how her da operates, there is no need for that glare Jesse”
Jesse looked to Cathryn and gave a quiet nod before gesturing to the map “Then I want ye to go t’Manchester, get things set up, you have a large area t’cover“ he made a move to walk away but quickly stopped and turned back “Oh.., and Cathryn; I already sent ye Serbian and Chinese Friends up with t’Monk”
“My Mentor has returned back to Britain?” Cathryn smiled looking towards Lydia “He’ll be ‘appy to see how you’ve progressed since we last saw ‘im”
“Aye; looking forward to meetin’ up with ‘im again” Lydia said with a smile; she then looked in Norina’s direction – so far her adopted sister has maintained her usual quietness, though, she suspected it was more to do with Erin’s departure than simply shyness this time; she had seen in Saint-Maurice how close her sister had gotten to the American Cultist-turned Ally, gently she gave a playful prod against Norina’s shoulder and smiled – Norina offered a softer smile in return
Salford, England
It would be late into the evening of the following day that the group would arrive to Greater Manchester, the drizzle already falling as they made their way through wet, grimy streets, boots splashing puddles; the Salford built of brick, smoke and sweat it was a place that the very air seemed to vibrate with the clatter of industry.
Cathryn led the group through the narrowed streets that seemed to press in, tight rows, many still the same cramped courts and ginnels that had been condemned as ‘unwholesome, dirty and ruinous’ decades earlier.
The scent of coal smoke hung low across rooftops drifting from mill chimneys and factory stacks which never truly slept – the River cut a dark line through the city, thick with runoff of dye works and the mills, barges and narrowboats navigated slowly along it carrying goods towards docks that had transformed Salford into a major inland port.
When they finally reached their intended destination at the Salford Safehouse – Cathryn pushed the door inwards before stepping aside to let Lydia, Elizabeth, Norina, Thomas and Miquel enter ahead of her, glancing back out in the streets to make sure they are unobserved before forcing the door to close; a dull scraping filling the space and sealing out the drizzle and the distant hum of machinery.
“Ah” a familiar, yet rough Mandarin-influenced accent rumbled “What has taken you so long to reach us?” the robed figure questioned, his voice clipped drawing eyes – his robes whispered against the floor with each step, a faint incense clinging to him which stood in stark contrast to the coal-soaked air outside, his tone was direct, yet it still carried a wiry respect as he approached Cathryn specifically
Xian’s gaze briefly drifted towards Thomas and Miquel; recognising Thomas from a prior encounter in the Himalayan Mountains and again in Burma “The soldier; why is he amongst our group again?”
“He has joined us Xian” Cathryn said simply, the northern vowels rolling comfortably of her tongue as she spoke “We’ve got t’get sorted out, Jesse said we’ve a larger area t’cover, so, where are Damir and my old Instructor?”
Gesturing back to the room he came from “They are awaiting your arrival” he tells her, his gaze drifting back to Miquel a moment before then landing to Thomas and shaking his head “Your daughter’s doing I suspect hm?”
“More allies; is that not a good thing Xian?” Elizabeth chimed – her refined accent a little sharper, her tone louder but still conversational; Xian merely narrowed his eyes before turning and following Cathryn into the backroom
“Not friendly that one is he” Miquel chuckled, amused by the unwelcoming feeling that Xian provides them
“Eh…, should ‘ave expected it; ain’t the friendliest of lads is ‘e” Thomas gave a cheeky grin before following Lydia and Norina into the room; Miquel’s eyes drifting a moment towards Elizabeth; Elizabeth was looking at him with an unreadable expression – it wasn’t the first time he caught her looking at him during their travel from Dover, when she realised he was looking at her she narrowed her gaze quickly
Elizabeth and Miquel then fell in step as they too entered the back room to join with the others where immediately the meeting planning began; Cathryn taking charge as she leaned forwards gesturing here and there placing pins as markers to set assigned locations; Damir to be paired with her Instructor; The Monk in Swinton, gesturing towards Xian, she stated he would be remaining with her and Norina in Salford, before marking Thomas, Lydia, Miquel and Elizabeth to Manchester
Xian, looking at the markers carefully took a moment to think – Damir would find his voice first as he leaned forwards, hands gently gripping the table “Forgive me Madam; you think this is wise?” he spoke clear even with a rough tone present as his eyes flickered towards Thomas and Miquel, he wasn’t going to doubt their ability, they were both soldiers like him, but, they had not yet earned respect or proven if they were trustworthy “It worries me; in my army we do not send family with men to danger, I will follow your command but…, this pairing, I do not understand it”
Thomas gave a subtle tilt of his head as he looked towards Damir before exchanging a look with Miquel; Lydia herself spoke before her mother could drawing Damir’s eye.
“I trust ‘em” her voice, still that of a soft bell, yet it carried her determined strength that Damir respected “Thomas saved me from drownin’ in Burma, tended to me gunshot wound after I was shot, he’s trustworthy, now’t to be worried a’boot”
Damir processed her words a moment before his eyes flickered back to Cathryn, Cathryn herself offered a slight twitch of her lips, a confirming smile that Damir accepted as he looked back towards Lydia and gave a firm nod “Dobro”
“We waste time with this; go, begin” Xian spoke firmly, as if taking control before quickly looking at Cathryn and then back to those gathered at the table “Every minute wasted, the Imperium secures the advantage” he maintained his directness
Cathryn gave a slow shake, not in disapproval just bewilderment before smiling and gesturing “Keep safe; any changes, ye come back to here alright?”
“Who shall lead?” a calm, smooth speaking voice that sounded like a melody, drawing eyes towards the one who just spoke; The Monk – a man who had spent his time training Cathryn in her youth, and even training Lydia.
Amongst the disciplined and dangerous, The Monk was an oddity.
He sat cross-legged adorned in his dark robes, he looked much like a Tibetan Monk, a figure completely out of place in an industrial city, gesturing towards the group of four; Elizabeth, Lydia, Thomas and Miquel “There is four amongst them; who do you intend to have lead?”
“Lizzie” Cathryn answered, a smile curving her lips – The Monk matched her smile, as if expecting her answer – Xian however narrowed his eyes in surprise turning his head towards Elizabeth then back towards Cathryn with a sharp ‘Elizabeth?’ Cathryn nodding, she offered no explanation and only Xian seemed against the choice – Lydia herself barely even seemed to acknowledge it
For Elizabeth though; she seemed to straighten subtly, surprise flashing behind her gaze as she looked towards her mother – Thomas and Miquel could see the surprise exchanging a look and grin.
Chapter 3:
The wintery wind bit at her exposed skin as it whipped along Manchester’s claustrophobic narrow streets, the ground was slick with the runoff from heavy rain, and passages tightened into cramped corridors of brick walls that seemed to lean inwards, hemming anyone that walked them; washing lines sagging overhead as Lydia walked through the maze of streets.
As Lydia was making her way back through these cramped streets, hearing the rattling of the trams, the whistling of factory whistles that shrieked across rooftops and the ceaseless churn of carts – the noises seem amplified at such a late hour, dark smoke disappearing into midnight darkness – a low fog clung to the cramped streets, hiding most buildings and leaving vague outlines.
Lydia moved, occasionally glancing towards the glow of lamplight “Stupid” she whispered to herself.
The plan had been simple – as the smaller and better trained in the regards of stealth, Lydia was meant to slip into their target’s operational centre; a small local pub in Ancoats, unfortunately, an old Hunter-ally had been present at the same time who had given her position away, so far she had managed to give her pursuers the slip in the fog, and needed to get back to her sister to let her know of the failure.
The wintery chill brought water to the eye, blurring her vision, shifting her arm a moment she pulled her scarf up above her nose before using her sleeve to wipe her eyes “Bloody crappy wind” she muttered to herself
Being momentarily distracted though, she never noticed a subtle shift within the fog until a figure was already upon her; her hand moved reflexively towards the Hilt of her Jian sword – too late.
A sickening thud exploded across the back of her head just as she was mid-turn, her body immediately went limp as a searing pain ripped through her skull, she flailed instinctively; her left hand reaching for her head while her right hand struck the ground awkwardly, her wrist twisting back at a painful angle – her forehead struck the ground with a second sickening thud.
Lydia’s world simply dissolved into a swirling vortex of blackness, a rush of nausea hit her followed by a prickling wave that swept across her body before consciousness slipped away.
Standing over the collapsed woman; Owen, a man lost within the labyrinth of his own fractured mind gave a slow tilt of his head.
He looked as though he was examining something never seen before as though the young woman were a species he had never encountered before, a rusty iron bar held in a trembling grip – he wasn’t sure why he even attacked her, he had just simply seen her walking through the fog and the fact she was walking alone simply triggered something dark and twisted within him.
Panic quickly seized him though as he dropped the bar and fled into the fog hoping to disappear into the labyrinth of alleyways before someone saw him – unfortunately for him, eyes had already been on him the entire time.
The first streaks of the rising sun brought little comfort as Elizabeth stood at the table, eyes occasionally flicking to the watch around her wrist – Lydia should have been back, Miquel and Thomas had returned with little issue; but for her sister, she had yet to show up “Something isn’t right” she murmured
Thomas was already concerned; pacing around the grimy room “Aye, perhaps it’s time we start searchin’, eh?” Thomas agreed as his eyes drifted towards Elizabeth
Elizabeth’s eyes lifted to Thomas as she slowly gave a nod “Normally, I would disagree, but, she is long overdue, I suspect if she had run into some kind of trouble, it would not delay her for this length of time”
While Thomas continued to pace; conjuring up various different scenarios in his head about what may have hindered or delayed Lydia – None of those scenarios though even seemed all that plausible when taking into account her usual display of skill, he had witnessed her first hand, how deadly she could be, still, she was only human, and regardless being nicknamed ‘The Reaper’ as revealed by Elizabeth, even Lydia could make mistakes.
Thomas brought his hand up, scratching the stubble on his chin – while Miquel leaned his elbows against his knees as he looked toward them.
“We should wait that little bit longer yes?” Miquel suggested; voice rough yet clear “If we leave to begin searching, she may come back to an empty room and wonder what has happened to us”
“No, my sister would not take this long; she has spent her life constantly on the move since she escaped our family estate – she and my mother adhere to a strict timeframe, they always have; it is why the Hunters have been so successful against the Imperium” Elizabeth looks towards Miquel “Lydia, like our mother will stick to the same rigid pattern, minor delays for unforeseen, but nothing beyond a small delay, this has been hours overdue”
“Then time’s up” Thomas growled – the northern vowels deepening the urgency in his voice “There is clearly somethin’ wrong; if we delay searchin’ then she might be in more danger”
“If we go searching and she returns; there will be nobody here to greet her” Miquel stands from the chair, reaching for his jacket before passing Thomas’s slouched hat over to him
“Then Anyango; perhaps it would be best for you to remain here and await her potential return in our absence” while initially sounding like a polite suggestion, it was anything but; it was practically an order, and it was not missed by either Thomas or Miquel as they both exchanged a look, Thomas finding it humorously cheeky “Mister Davidson; shall we?” Elizabeth gestured as she made her way forwards towards the door – Thomas shot Miquel a quick grin before following Elizabeth out into the grey morning mist
The search would begin in the pale, colourless early morning light – fog still clung stubbornly to the streets as if still trying to keep its nightly secrets hidden – Thomas and Elizabeth began to painstaking effort of retracing Lydia’s most likely route, suggested directions by Elizabeth who understood her sisters methods better.
Boot splashed through the puddles left by the previous night’s rain – the city was beginning to stir; to wake with the first of shutters lifting, lamps being extinguished, workers trudging towards the mills with tired eyes.
Thomas stopped anyone who would listen; tram conductors who where in the middle of whipping down their steps, a baker hauling sacks of flour into his shop, a milkman rattling bottles in a crate.
The quest that left his lips always the same “Have ye seen a young woman pass through ‘ere; ‘bout this high” gesturing Lydia’s height “Dark Hair and Silver-Eyes, a jacket with a Serbian crest, a scarf tends to move quick and carries a Chinese straight sword”
Each answer was the same though – a shake of the head, a muttered apology or a blank stare.
Elizabeth would question shopkeepers as they unlocked their doors, voice steady and refined by that clipped southern gentry tone – her jaw tightening with each dismissal.
“No miss, ‘aven’t seen anyone like that” one answered
“Fog was thick last night luv” said another
“Can’t help lass, sorry” a third would answer
Their would scan each alleyway they passed, every shadowed doorway through streets where a struggle could have taken place – eyes sharp searching for any sign; there was none
Moving methodically;
Down the main road
Through the narrow alleyways
Past the butcher’s yard
Past the tram stop where fog pooled thickest
Each street would be crossed off on an internal list; a dread settled deep – a cold, creeping thing that wrapped around their ribs, it felt as though it was constricting tighter each passing minute; Thomas’s strides more determined laced with worry, Elizabeth’s composure wavered, barely holding, but her eyes betrayed the calculations behind them.
By the time they reach the last street that Lydia had been seen taking the fog had begun to thin, but so had their hope.
There had been no witnesses, no signs of what happened – no blood to be found, no signs of struggle or trace of her at all; the city had simply swallowed her whole.
Chapter 4:
When Thomas and Elizabeth finally returned to the safehouse – they were hopeful that Lydia may have slipped by them, returned and is simply waiting with Miquel; but upon entering, they found Miquel pacing about, his movements stilling at their entry into the room
“You have not found her?” Miquel questioned, a clipped rumbling in his voice as he too felt that same sense of concern rapidly rising
“We need ‘elp” Thomas said, realisation settling in heavily as his eyes drifted to Elizabeth as she leaned against the planning table “Elizabeth; we need to go find ye mam in Salford”
Elizabeth barely registered the words as she stood silent against the table, eyes flickering about with tiny rapid movements ‘Lost’ she thought ‘You never lose little sister; what has happened to you?’
“Elizabeth” Thomas’s hand fell onto Elizabeth’s shoulder jolting her from her spiralling thoughts as she twisted sharply, eyes locking onto Thomas’s blue with a wild, unguarded look; for the heartbeat there was no refined composed posture – it had shattered.
It was rebuilt as quickly as it had shattered, walls snapping back in place as she straightened, hands folding behind her back – Thomas held her gaze.
“We need to find your mam Elizabeth; we need to go back to Salford now luv” Thomas gently pushed recognising the momentary vulnerability before those walls came back up to hide that fracture
“Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to reach out to Wilson” Miquel suggested, his eyes fixed on Thomas
“Who’s Wilson?” Elizabeth’s eyes instantly snapped to Miquel; her brow rising in confusion
“He’s our commandin’ officer” Thomas answered drawing Elizabeth’s eyes back towards him “And that actually ain’t a bad idea, some o’ the lads live ‘round ‘ere in Manchester, they will be willin’ to ‘elp us out”
“Exactly” Miquel smiled warmly “And Miss Smythe here can go contact her mother we’ll be able to rely on the help of our regiment and we will have kept everyone updated with what’s currently unfolding here; I say ‘bring in the army’” he said proudly
Away from the frantic searching – Lydia had been relocated, her still form lying on a cold, damp stone floor; had she been awake and registered the angle of her arms, the bite of the rope around her wrists would have been agony, instead, she remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and lashes unmoving.
Above her, shadowed figures stood around, silhouettes wavering in the dim light as they exchanged a hushed, urgent argument; they debated on whether to send word to George Smythe – whether to report that Lydia had not merely been found, but captured.
One of them, a German speaker with a low, purring voice expressed an unsettling eagerness to remain behind and ‘watch over’ the unconscious girl, his colleagues shifting uneasily at his tone, but, the matter at hand was more pressing; contact George Smythe.
They needed to draw out the leader of the Cult of the Minotaur.
George had after all, a vested interest in the recovery of his daughter; he had done since that encounter in Greece in 1908 where he discovered first hand the drastic changes that Lydia had undergone; she had drastically changed from that timid child George had declared a liability, an insult, a failure to his line – she had instead become something sharper, faster, deadlier; his obsession had only grown.
To George; Lydia was no longer a frightened girl – she was a weapon, a perfect blend of deceptive youth and lethal skill.
There was no doubt; once George received word, he would be racing to their location – and the city would tremble once he did.
Written By: Westley H.
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