Ancient Wounds Pt5 ii
Previous Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5i
: ) Pt 5ii we have here my loves, this is picking up just from where we left...
----<3
It was not for some time thereafter that my mind caught up with the sacrificial act of honour I had committed earlier that night. For as my mother presented me with all my worldly possessions, my clothing and my father’s trinket, I felt from within the back of my mind the piteous lie that I would see her and my brother once more.
As the roughness of my garment’s material passed from her weakened shaky hand to mine, I felt it were a right of passage, as if she were giving her child back to the world he had been born of…as if I was the one last burden the ageing and bewitching woman would bear. She herself had gathered up all Jesse’s and her own belongings (for the mysterious Herra had informed her a carriage drawn by white horses would depart her and her only boy to their new destiny within the hour).
Taking up her slumbering babe, and placing him into the shadowy territory of the carriage she smiled sadly at me as I waited on the doorstep of what was once my home.
The horses brayed quiet and soft into the crisp dark lit only by the fires of a rustic lantern to the carriage’s side, and were like splendid gentlemen standing proud to obeyed attention.
The carriage itself contrast so vividly against their powdery white skin, and seemed like a hungry ashen creature from my childhood nightmares in which my family would be swallowed from me forever. Staring from out the carriage window, my mother kissed the air to me one last time.
By this time she cried no more, no, all her tears were spent for her first born son. I was grateful it was so, and although my heart ached gently at the sight of her bright eyes in tears, what I had chosen was for her best. Yet it was not apparent to me, in my state of shock corrupt with hope, that I had given up all that anchored me to this very world in order to let them go on. I witnessed the black liquored carriage shut, and at the crack of a bridle by an anonymous driver the sour farewell ballet began.
The milky horses arched their necks like archery bows, curling their majestic heads into their chests as they began to charge down the dirt path in the dark ; the power beneath their hooves pulled up snow and dirt from the crevices of the icy ground.
Their ears pricked forward, their nostrils flared red and from their mouths they echoed a mantra of whines. It was then my beloveds fled from me into the night, leaving only the sound of the lantern swinging rusty and my aching heart beating behind them.
I watched them disappear into the blackness of the unlit countryside, and as I am sure the sound of the frozen grass beneath the horses turned to cobbles, my tears beat down on the ground for every single step they would tread.
Mother, behold your son, and let know that he loves you always, for you and my brother were my all
That was the last time I ever saw her.
Through the burn of my eyes and the wretches of my breath, I turned into the empty cold of the old cottage, passed the old oak table and into the hollowness of the chilled bedroom.
I ran my hands over the crumbling walls and the smoothness of the bedposts, as if in every nook my fingertips touched was hidden the remnants of my childhood memory that I could clutch to my breast and make them warm me in this cold unforgiving time. It was there I lay upon my coverless bed with what little was left to comfort me, the lonely pride that I had done the honourable and right thing for them, and the deep hurt that they were gone.
I lay there for I do not know how long, but some time while the night had not yet been defeated by the daylight, I was roused from my silent grief with a firm hard hand to the shoulder. It was he. He was dressed in an unblemished white collar shirt with immaculately neat tied back hair, black smart trousers and from his shoulders flowed a sort of winter cape made from an unfamiliar red material.
“Come,” he ordered in his iron voice pulling me up roughly by the collar “you will see it good to forget of this place, it is no longer of your life” I merely nodded in obedience, and he lead me out and pushed me from the threshold into the ache of the wind outside.
To my indifference there was another carriage stationed where the other had been, though this time it’s horses were the least of my interests as I was forcefully pushed inside the carriage dark.
My mind did not care to dwell upon the beauty of the snowy countryside glowing ghostly in the moonlight as we moved deeper into the country away from the town, nor the rarity of the bounding red deer within the covered woods we were turning into.
As the trees cast looming great shadows across the purity of the ground and dirt path, through the rickety course of my journey as I hugged my arms close to body in the cold, the mysterious and cruel eyed stranger sat adjacent and staring into me with keen interest and a grimacing smirk. His teeth were unusually white, and seemed sharp like the wolf’s.
“You are to call me Master Vuori,” said the blond authority bluntly, breaking the hard silence “and you will obey my orders as I give them. Understood?”
“Yes Sir,” I shivered looking down at my feet afraid to look into the eyes of this new and intimidating figure.
Before I had the opportunity to create a more lengthy response or indeed another point of conversation, I was brought to concentration by a swift and callous backhand to the face-causing me to let free a caged whelp of shock and sharp pain.
My eyes widened and met his in disbelief that the hard yet otherwise placid man had actually struck me, and instinctively my hand moved to clutch the spectral cheek that was now throbbing with the sting of pain.
Not even my drunkard father had ever raised a hand to me. But before I could touch the place where surely a great mark would grace, he caught tight my wrist. His grasp was so strong that I felt as if he desired to break the twiggy limb with his mere gloved fingertips.
“You will look me in eye when I am speaking to you, boy” he hissed his cobalt eyes burning into mine, seeming now so unnaturally blue in his unprovoked rage that it so disturbed me and seemed to cause my vision to burn with mock fire just to look within them. Shivering under his tight grip and unholy macabre gaze, I choked out a whimper-
“Yes. Yes…Master” I then settled deep into the shadows of my seating, my fingernails gripping the rough unsettling wood of the cold bench.
I would have done anything to never have to look into those ungodly eyes of his again. Anything. Sitting shakily and silent in the corner of the jaggedly progressing carriage for the duration of the journey, I could have sworn that in that icy blue glare I witnessed the damnation of my very soul-as if he witnessed my sins. He was not of my kind, with immense fear this I was certain.
And it was in that very instance that I cowered in fear of him, filled with a resonance of such aversion not even the preacher could have inspired. My family, my will power, my emotional and what little physical strength I possessed had been lost…and it was then that he took from me my desire to stand for myself, all I seemingly had left in the world.
Sometime thereafter the horses began to slow to an uneasy halt, and as I dared raise my stunned eyes out of the misty window I became aware we had arrived to a destination a good while or so from the familiarity of my town. I found myself in a clearing. We were still within the overcast thicket of dense forest and the sounds of night birds all echoed, into what seemed some apparent expanse of tree shrouded nothing.
Surrounded by a suffocation of ancient pines and mountain ash, my watery green eyes could make out the silhouette of a tall stone structure against a greater glowing light source. Covered in a mask of mostly dead vines and sleet, towered grey stone manor, from which the warmth of candles and hearth fired the night.
I knew this to be a very wealthy estate and was almost removed from my unsettling mood by the prospect of hot food and warm sleep.
Before I could dwell on this notion further or observe the great building in any greater detail, I was reminded firmly of my situation by an impatient grunt of Master Vuori.
Scrambling out the horrid claustrophobia of the carriage ( for should I have been anymore slow and graceful, I predicted I would have received a smack to my head or backside) and out into the less menacing chill of Scandinavian winter.
Joining me, my fearsome but seemingly now more collected benefactor strode across the crunch of the hardened snow to the front of the carriage, where he muttered something to the anonymous aged driver and tossed some coin in his direction-to which said driver then departed whence we came without haste. I shivered wildly in the light winds, he however, did not.
“Very well,” he sighed coughing slightly against a pale fist, looking at me as one would a dog “this is my home, did you take note of the land leading up to this place?”
I nodded.
“Your land on which that old cottage stands, and the land we passed through all belong to me. As does the groves down yonder” he gestured passed the clearing into a dark alignment of fields in which I was sure something of worth lay “ your old town is within walking distance, I will not deny you to return there at times. But know to keep your end of our little bargain, that you must remain and live here with me until I see fit you should leave”
“I do not-” I began, and to my horror was against struck my a lightning fast hand to the same cheek. I staggered, not anticipating the severity at which he swung. Yet he remained composed with only his cape fluttering about his ankles to indicate he had moved at all.
“How many times must I tell you, not to speak unless I have told you so?” he hissed his eyes not quite smouldering as before “perhaps I can change your disobedient streak with a little reprimanding? Shoes off”
Having awkwardly complied strictly out of fear, he then took me by the collar of my rough shirt and pulled me paces away from the great iron bolted door of the manor, where he released me with a shove.
“You will stay here until one of the servant women fetch you in the morning” He smirked, his voice full of arrogance. He stepped to hit upon the great door, which then yielded open to him “and if I find that you have made the slightest attempt to flee from this area-”
He paused staring up and down my quaking form, from my now watering dim green eyes to my bare feet that stood upon piercingly cold ground.
“I’ll see they send your little witch and brother to the nearest poorhouse or parish for judgement”
Tears began to form but I would not let them show themselves, as I stared hatefully and frightened at the creature who disappeared into the warm light of the manor, leaving me in the stinging wintry night alone.
Sitting amongst some close pines as make shift wind breakers, I pulled my knees to my quaking chest and shivered violently in the harsh surrounding of black forest . As my blood and body heat retreated within me and my already pale flesh grew white to almost blue, I huddled myself in the corner. It became swiftly apparent to me why Master Vuori had made me forsake footwear, as now wherever I positioned myself the soles of my feet always were in contact with the icy cold soil beneath me. No matter how I tried, the freezing winds whipped at me and caused my breathing to rasp and almost cease.
It was then, as I waited there in fear that he would come back and strike me again, that I gave the very last inch of me up to him. My integrity. It was apparent to me in that very moment then, that the blond tyrant of a Lord had broken the last piece of what was once Ville. I surrendered to him, and lay down to silent weeping in the old snow in a futile attempt that sleep might carry me away from the physical hurt. Throughout the blistering winds, I lay shivering and slowly fell asleep.
I dreamt of the fire of the cottage hearth, and the image of a young and beautiful witch maiden, who’s flowing hazel hair tumbled in ringlets about her pale cheeks and emerald eyes…and who by the crackle of a warm fire, cradled the sleeping head of her first born son always.
------<3
*smidges*
hehe, this is the last part until the 6th im afraid, for i am off to Turkey :)
I shall be writing more on the plane;) comments are love sweethearts!
: ) Pt 5ii we have here my loves, this is picking up just from where we left...
----<3
It was not for some time thereafter that my mind caught up with the sacrificial act of honour I had committed earlier that night. For as my mother presented me with all my worldly possessions, my clothing and my father’s trinket, I felt from within the back of my mind the piteous lie that I would see her and my brother once more.
As the roughness of my garment’s material passed from her weakened shaky hand to mine, I felt it were a right of passage, as if she were giving her child back to the world he had been born of…as if I was the one last burden the ageing and bewitching woman would bear. She herself had gathered up all Jesse’s and her own belongings (for the mysterious Herra had informed her a carriage drawn by white horses would depart her and her only boy to their new destiny within the hour).
Taking up her slumbering babe, and placing him into the shadowy territory of the carriage she smiled sadly at me as I waited on the doorstep of what was once my home.
The horses brayed quiet and soft into the crisp dark lit only by the fires of a rustic lantern to the carriage’s side, and were like splendid gentlemen standing proud to obeyed attention.
The carriage itself contrast so vividly against their powdery white skin, and seemed like a hungry ashen creature from my childhood nightmares in which my family would be swallowed from me forever. Staring from out the carriage window, my mother kissed the air to me one last time.
By this time she cried no more, no, all her tears were spent for her first born son. I was grateful it was so, and although my heart ached gently at the sight of her bright eyes in tears, what I had chosen was for her best. Yet it was not apparent to me, in my state of shock corrupt with hope, that I had given up all that anchored me to this very world in order to let them go on. I witnessed the black liquored carriage shut, and at the crack of a bridle by an anonymous driver the sour farewell ballet began.
The milky horses arched their necks like archery bows, curling their majestic heads into their chests as they began to charge down the dirt path in the dark ; the power beneath their hooves pulled up snow and dirt from the crevices of the icy ground.
Their ears pricked forward, their nostrils flared red and from their mouths they echoed a mantra of whines. It was then my beloveds fled from me into the night, leaving only the sound of the lantern swinging rusty and my aching heart beating behind them.
I watched them disappear into the blackness of the unlit countryside, and as I am sure the sound of the frozen grass beneath the horses turned to cobbles, my tears beat down on the ground for every single step they would tread.
Mother, behold your son, and let know that he loves you always, for you and my brother were my all
That was the last time I ever saw her.
Through the burn of my eyes and the wretches of my breath, I turned into the empty cold of the old cottage, passed the old oak table and into the hollowness of the chilled bedroom.
I ran my hands over the crumbling walls and the smoothness of the bedposts, as if in every nook my fingertips touched was hidden the remnants of my childhood memory that I could clutch to my breast and make them warm me in this cold unforgiving time. It was there I lay upon my coverless bed with what little was left to comfort me, the lonely pride that I had done the honourable and right thing for them, and the deep hurt that they were gone.
I lay there for I do not know how long, but some time while the night had not yet been defeated by the daylight, I was roused from my silent grief with a firm hard hand to the shoulder. It was he. He was dressed in an unblemished white collar shirt with immaculately neat tied back hair, black smart trousers and from his shoulders flowed a sort of winter cape made from an unfamiliar red material.
“Come,” he ordered in his iron voice pulling me up roughly by the collar “you will see it good to forget of this place, it is no longer of your life” I merely nodded in obedience, and he lead me out and pushed me from the threshold into the ache of the wind outside.
To my indifference there was another carriage stationed where the other had been, though this time it’s horses were the least of my interests as I was forcefully pushed inside the carriage dark.
My mind did not care to dwell upon the beauty of the snowy countryside glowing ghostly in the moonlight as we moved deeper into the country away from the town, nor the rarity of the bounding red deer within the covered woods we were turning into.
As the trees cast looming great shadows across the purity of the ground and dirt path, through the rickety course of my journey as I hugged my arms close to body in the cold, the mysterious and cruel eyed stranger sat adjacent and staring into me with keen interest and a grimacing smirk. His teeth were unusually white, and seemed sharp like the wolf’s.
“You are to call me Master Vuori,” said the blond authority bluntly, breaking the hard silence “and you will obey my orders as I give them. Understood?”
“Yes Sir,” I shivered looking down at my feet afraid to look into the eyes of this new and intimidating figure.
Before I had the opportunity to create a more lengthy response or indeed another point of conversation, I was brought to concentration by a swift and callous backhand to the face-causing me to let free a caged whelp of shock and sharp pain.
My eyes widened and met his in disbelief that the hard yet otherwise placid man had actually struck me, and instinctively my hand moved to clutch the spectral cheek that was now throbbing with the sting of pain.
Not even my drunkard father had ever raised a hand to me. But before I could touch the place where surely a great mark would grace, he caught tight my wrist. His grasp was so strong that I felt as if he desired to break the twiggy limb with his mere gloved fingertips.
“You will look me in eye when I am speaking to you, boy” he hissed his cobalt eyes burning into mine, seeming now so unnaturally blue in his unprovoked rage that it so disturbed me and seemed to cause my vision to burn with mock fire just to look within them. Shivering under his tight grip and unholy macabre gaze, I choked out a whimper-
“Yes. Yes…Master” I then settled deep into the shadows of my seating, my fingernails gripping the rough unsettling wood of the cold bench.
I would have done anything to never have to look into those ungodly eyes of his again. Anything. Sitting shakily and silent in the corner of the jaggedly progressing carriage for the duration of the journey, I could have sworn that in that icy blue glare I witnessed the damnation of my very soul-as if he witnessed my sins. He was not of my kind, with immense fear this I was certain.
And it was in that very instance that I cowered in fear of him, filled with a resonance of such aversion not even the preacher could have inspired. My family, my will power, my emotional and what little physical strength I possessed had been lost…and it was then that he took from me my desire to stand for myself, all I seemingly had left in the world.
Sometime thereafter the horses began to slow to an uneasy halt, and as I dared raise my stunned eyes out of the misty window I became aware we had arrived to a destination a good while or so from the familiarity of my town. I found myself in a clearing. We were still within the overcast thicket of dense forest and the sounds of night birds all echoed, into what seemed some apparent expanse of tree shrouded nothing.
Surrounded by a suffocation of ancient pines and mountain ash, my watery green eyes could make out the silhouette of a tall stone structure against a greater glowing light source. Covered in a mask of mostly dead vines and sleet, towered grey stone manor, from which the warmth of candles and hearth fired the night.
I knew this to be a very wealthy estate and was almost removed from my unsettling mood by the prospect of hot food and warm sleep.
Before I could dwell on this notion further or observe the great building in any greater detail, I was reminded firmly of my situation by an impatient grunt of Master Vuori.
Scrambling out the horrid claustrophobia of the carriage ( for should I have been anymore slow and graceful, I predicted I would have received a smack to my head or backside) and out into the less menacing chill of Scandinavian winter.
Joining me, my fearsome but seemingly now more collected benefactor strode across the crunch of the hardened snow to the front of the carriage, where he muttered something to the anonymous aged driver and tossed some coin in his direction-to which said driver then departed whence we came without haste. I shivered wildly in the light winds, he however, did not.
“Very well,” he sighed coughing slightly against a pale fist, looking at me as one would a dog “this is my home, did you take note of the land leading up to this place?”
I nodded.
“Your land on which that old cottage stands, and the land we passed through all belong to me. As does the groves down yonder” he gestured passed the clearing into a dark alignment of fields in which I was sure something of worth lay “ your old town is within walking distance, I will not deny you to return there at times. But know to keep your end of our little bargain, that you must remain and live here with me until I see fit you should leave”
“I do not-” I began, and to my horror was against struck my a lightning fast hand to the same cheek. I staggered, not anticipating the severity at which he swung. Yet he remained composed with only his cape fluttering about his ankles to indicate he had moved at all.
“How many times must I tell you, not to speak unless I have told you so?” he hissed his eyes not quite smouldering as before “perhaps I can change your disobedient streak with a little reprimanding? Shoes off”
Having awkwardly complied strictly out of fear, he then took me by the collar of my rough shirt and pulled me paces away from the great iron bolted door of the manor, where he released me with a shove.
“You will stay here until one of the servant women fetch you in the morning” He smirked, his voice full of arrogance. He stepped to hit upon the great door, which then yielded open to him “and if I find that you have made the slightest attempt to flee from this area-”
He paused staring up and down my quaking form, from my now watering dim green eyes to my bare feet that stood upon piercingly cold ground.
“I’ll see they send your little witch and brother to the nearest poorhouse or parish for judgement”
Tears began to form but I would not let them show themselves, as I stared hatefully and frightened at the creature who disappeared into the warm light of the manor, leaving me in the stinging wintry night alone.
Sitting amongst some close pines as make shift wind breakers, I pulled my knees to my quaking chest and shivered violently in the harsh surrounding of black forest . As my blood and body heat retreated within me and my already pale flesh grew white to almost blue, I huddled myself in the corner. It became swiftly apparent to me why Master Vuori had made me forsake footwear, as now wherever I positioned myself the soles of my feet always were in contact with the icy cold soil beneath me. No matter how I tried, the freezing winds whipped at me and caused my breathing to rasp and almost cease.
It was then, as I waited there in fear that he would come back and strike me again, that I gave the very last inch of me up to him. My integrity. It was apparent to me in that very moment then, that the blond tyrant of a Lord had broken the last piece of what was once Ville. I surrendered to him, and lay down to silent weeping in the old snow in a futile attempt that sleep might carry me away from the physical hurt. Throughout the blistering winds, I lay shivering and slowly fell asleep.
I dreamt of the fire of the cottage hearth, and the image of a young and beautiful witch maiden, who’s flowing hazel hair tumbled in ringlets about her pale cheeks and emerald eyes…and who by the crackle of a warm fire, cradled the sleeping head of her first born son always.
------<3
*smidges*
hehe, this is the last part until the 6th im afraid, for i am off to Turkey :)
I shall be writing more on the plane;) comments are love sweethearts!