The Chains of the Blood, chapter 2: Isolation
The Chains of the Blood
By: Thorne
Collaborators:
Hoshiginiro http://www.furaffinity.net/user/hoshiginiro/
Dorian Longstreet http://www.furaffinity.net/user/dorianlongstreet/
Special Thanks to: Valery http://valery91thunder.deviantart.com/
Chapter 2: Isolation
It was a lazy summer afternoon; I had brewed myself a pot of tea and was sipping on a cup while I sat upon my porch. All was calm except for a slight breeze and a few bumble bees buzzing through the meadow. I had come out upon the porch to gaze at the lovely meadow; its calmness numbed the loneliness in my heart, but only just. I was enjoying my tea, a little wild honey made it quite sweet; I had some ginger cookies to go with the tea, but I wasn't hungry so I left them be. It was a beautiful day, it had a calming effect on me; not that I was a stressed woman just a very sad and lonely one.
At times my isolation drove me to tears; sometimes I was driven to madness, leaving a few rooms in my dwelling damaged and dirty. One item gives me a great deal of rage, that fountain, that cursed fountain, oh how I hate it so. Over my years at this place, I have found myself before the fountain ready to crumble it to pieces; however I never placed and angry blow upon it, I'm afraid to do so. I hadn't always been so lonely; there had been another occupant at one time. Henry Worchester, he was a kind old gentlemen, a gray haired badger; brass spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose before his two old eyes. His frame had once supported a very muscular body, but age had robbed him of this figure and a plump belly had formed. He was my sole care giver for many years, he raised me and I looked upon him as a father figure.
He had been living in the cottage for many years, however many he never told me; but before me he had shared the cottage with two other occupants. Their names were Elizabeth and Julia, I had never met them, but Mr. Worchester had told me all about them while I was growing up. He deeply missed them, the two women had kept him company for many years; I would often remind him of them and he would tell me of a colorful memory he had shared with the two. He always painted his stories in a warm, colorful way; however when I was older he made me aware that there had been some hard feelings of contempt between Elizabeth and Julia.
The two scrapped with each other, most of the engagements were jealousy fueled but quite minor incidents. Mr. Worchester had been the issue at hand with these small scraps, both women feeling jealousy towards one and other. Despite the bickering, the two women put aside their differences when the three went to bed. This time was a fragile harmony held together by the passion of the moment. Unfortunately for Mr. Worchester, Elizabeth's and Julia's desire to be his only lover took both women from his side. A fight erupted between the two, much like previous arguments, this bitter fight though was to the death. The fight separated the three of them; Mr. Worchester was the only one to remain in the cottage.
This lose was quite hard on him, he spent a number of years in solitude, the loneliness aged him. Yet he was not doomed to be lonely forever, I came into his world and he made it his sole purpose in life to raise me to the best of his ability. He raised me for sixteen years, he loved me as his daughter and I loved him as a father. Things changed though, when I began entering woman hood, he distanced himself a bit, sleeping in a different part of the cottage at night, before this he had always slept in the room next to mine.
The days were also different; he spent more time in his private study, reading books from all aspects of literature, writing down bits of information he valued or found interesting. A few of his books he gave to me to read, telling me they contained important life lessons. The Holy Bible was one such book given to me to read; I cherished this one above the rest. I read its entirety thrice, learning a few new things each time. If I had a question, I asked Mr. Worchester to help me understand a meaning or lesson that a passage was teaching. He was wise; he taught me that the events in this book were meant to teach one how to lead a good life.
I did become religious taking the word of the Bible as a truth with multiple messages; and with a little guidance from Mr. Worchester I came to know my heavenly father and his promise of eternal life. All of this briefly returned closeness between me and my caretaker, but again he withdrew from me. I didn't confront him about his withdrawal from me, nor did I display my sadness or concern. I internalized my feelings, despite my desire to have things return to the way they were. He continued to spend the majority of his day in his study, only the nightmares of this cottage caused him to seek me out.
That is one thing that didn't change, the nightmares guarding this place always caused him to come and comfort me, he sensed their approach and embraced me at these times; his hands shielding my eyes from those dark things. In a way I looked forward to the nightmare times, they were frightening moments, but they were familiar and they always brought Mr. Worchester close to me.
Reflecting on these past events took me to a state of trance, my feelings orbiting my central train of thought. The world outside my mind became numb to me; I focused deeply upon my emotions, my heart beat fluctuating as I felt each emotion from the past. I was lost to my thoughts. The feelings of loneliness dominated my thoughts causing a slow beat in my heart, a few feelings of rage quickened it, and remembering past joys again calmed it.
One thought that brought about a great deal of sadness was remembering Mr. Worchester's departure from me and the cottage. It had occurred shortly after my sixteenth birthday, or at least the day we celebrated as my birthday. The date Mr. Worchester designated as my birthday was the fifteenth of May, and was one of the peaceful days in the cottage, none of the nightmares occurred on this day. Before my advancement into womanhood, this day was celebrated quite joyfully. Mr. Worchester always baked me a delicious cake, and he would tell me stories from times I was younger. He even had gifts for me, the first few birthdays I recalled, I received various dolls, and each one was adored greatly. With age though, the gifts changed, jewelry and dresses became more prominent and the day was celebrated with less joy each year. Maturity brought responsibilities; Mr. Worchester taught me how to cook and bake and how to press clothes. I became responsible for making my own birthday cake and dinner; this bothered me not at all.
I could not find an answer to why my relationship with Worchester had become so different. However, upon my sixteenth birthday I learned why things between me and Mr. Worchester had changed. We were gathered around the dinner table, I had cooked us a meal and baked my own birthday cake. Mr. Worchester was calm, he was smiling but he seemed eerily quiet. He had walked in with wrapped gifts; none of them resembled a box which may have contained a dress or a piece of jewelry.
We ate our dinner quietly, and moved on to cake. After he had finished his piece of cake he brought out the gifts he had for me. There were only two of them, and they were wrapped in leather instead of the bright pink paper that usually covered my gifts. He handed me the first one, it had some weight to it; I unraveled the leather cloth surrounding it, it's surface shined as I uncovered it. This first gift was a small dagger, it was solid gold except the handle and its sheath, they were made of ivory, the sheath encrusted with three large emeralds on each side. This peculiar gift struck fear into my little heart, why was he giving me a weapon?
Mr. Worchester saw the panic in my eyes, "Calm yourself my dear, you still have one more gift." He said with warmness in his voice. "This dagger is for your protection my dear; though it can't harm or prevent the nightmares of this cottage it can still protect you." "This is to be used upon any suitors that touch you without your favor." "I want you to protect yourself, this dagger will put an end to anyone you use it upon." He said quite seriously. His words did not provide me with comfort; if it couldn't kill the nightmares of this place what good was it? He then proceeded to give me the second gift, this one was smaller, but for its size it had a decent amount of weight. Again I uncovered leather cloth, this time a key was revealed. It was a large golden key, its ring taking up the space of my palm; it had various engravings upon it. Some of the engravings were Latin words, their meanings not in my understanding; the other side of the key had an engraving of a dragon. The dragon had a small encrusted ruby for an eye, its detail had been slightly worn away by the hands of its previous owners; yet everything of it was there, the horns, the wings, the claws, the scales, the teeth, the spaded tail. This gift made me as uneasy as the first, confusion and worry bothered my head.
"The key's purpose will come to light when the moment is right." He said, his voice sounding a little mournful, but his smile didn't leave his face.
"Why have you given me these things, why would I have a use for them?" I asked.
"My dear, my time with you is over," he replied his words bringing me sorrow, "I can't protect you forever, I can't be around forever." "I'm tired, my years upon this world have been plenty, it's time for my old bones to come to rest." He explained. "I'm leaving my dear, you're going to have to be alone for awhile, you'll have to face the nightmares alone for awhile." He said mournfully tears wetting the bags under his eyes.
"Why?" I exclaimed, tears had been pouring from my eyes since he started his explanation, "why are you leaving me, I know no other person, I only have you, you're my world."
"My dear I'm tired of all this, this place brings back painful memories, I can't bear the burdens it places on my soul any longer." He replied tears flowing down his cheeks. "And you are not alone, there are three other beings that are here to care for you, God, his son, and the Holy Spirit; you have them my dear and they will not fail you." He reached over and embraced me, I was bawling, I couldn't control myself, his words had been too saddening. The power of these emotions made me sick to my stomach; I got up from his embrace and ran for the bathroom. The cake and dinner we had just eaten had no desire to stay in its place and it came up. He remained in the dining room, his own eyes heavy with tears. The silence allowed the babbling of that fountain to be the only sound.
He remained in the house for a few more days, he told me he had some final preparations to make for his departure, but for me it was like he had already left. He then left one night embracing my neck as he went through the door; he said one last thing to me before he left. "My dear, pray, pray for yourself, pray to God for him to send you a guardian angel, pray to him for happiness," He said as he embraced me.
"I will," I said, sorrow weighing heavily upon my heart. And with that he departed into the cool night, never again would I feel his warm loving embrace. His father like love for me, was gone except in my memories. That happened many years ago, and since then I have faced the nightmares of this place by myself, none of them had the same effect on many anymore. I would have liked to have died but I didn't, the nightmares had become petty compared to my loneliness. For the first few years I prayed diligently, but eventually I became discouraged praying less and less. My praying was reduced to a few prayers a week, I hungered little, only consuming a bit now and then. My days had become empty, within the study there were plenty of books, a hundred lifetimes of information, but I had no drive to read them. I was consumed by my loneliness, doing very little except for dressing myself each day.
Today was no exception, I had bathed and dressed myself and made myself a bit of tea, I didn't eat breakfast and I had no intention on preparing a lunch or dinner for myself. I was doing what I wanted to at the moment, letting the noon day sun warm my blonde fur.
I had spent many a late summer afternoon upon this deck; it was sometimes my only reason for getting up. It was a simple pleasure that numbed my pain. However today something brought me out of my lonely trance. In the corner of my eye I spotted a figure nearly upon my deck. I turned to look and saw a silver fox, eloquently dressed in a black suit. At first I thought I was imagining things, something I've caught myself doing before. I greeted him like the many illusions that had come before, but he responded! This was no illusion, and my mind forgot the troubles of the past as I turned my full attention upon this young gentleman.