Book One : The Prophecy : II : The Door

II

The Door

6^th October 1940

In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present…

Francis Bacon.

November was met with a sigh from the residents of Thorn Cottage. The summer had been long and bountiful for those fortunate enough to be nestled away from the realities of war. The hand of war however had still struck hard upon the residents of Keswick. Men had become a rarity and the inflow of evacuees had become a daily event. The young women of Keswick left their aprons at home and stepped into the shoes of their fathers, brothers and husbands. Many spent their days working on the local farms that lay scattered across the nearby area. In a perverse sense of the manner, women had been handed their independence, now making up the brunt of the British workforce and many wore their independence proudly. Of course they were driven by the need to support their male counterparts.

And so Estelle and Eveline had found themselves saddled with a young evacuee by the name of Belle. Belle was a lonely child from London, Chelsea to be more specific. She was seven years of age and had brought much needed companionship and joy to both Estelle and Eveline since they had collected her a year earlier from the station. When not at school, Belle spent her days with Eveline who had very much taken the child under her wings. It had been a beneficial situation to all involved none more so than Eveline who had transformed greatly, her natural shyness evolving into a new found confidence that enabled her to enter into activities she once thought perilous. Having to rear a child forced Eveline to overcome many of her fears, especially those of a social nature. She found that with a childlike Belle at her side the residents of Keswick began to see her as an equal, uncaring of her unusual appearance and strange ways. War had an incredible way of bringing those who would have once been enemies together for the greater good of society. Twice a week she would walk over to the Williamson farm and help out for a couple of hours, bringing her into contact with other like-minded young women, who soon became firm friends.

At times she simply forgot that she was married, for she was very much filled with happiness at her new found spirit. It was on the very bleak days that she would find herself immersed in a cloak of depression at the thought of her husband away at war. She did not receive many letters from Theodore and treasured those she had. If anything she missed his constant friendship. When she found herself unable to feel happy or fortunate she instead found herself crying in the arms of Estelle who understood her pain only too well. Belle had brought with her an incurable zest for life and it was this coupled with her intelligence that brought a certain form of healing into the household, for one could not forget that the child too had parents living in London during the Blitz. And so together they formed a pattern of everyday life and found healing and refuge in one another, there little world as save as it could be.

It had been a very hot summer and although they had entered into October, the sun was still brimming with heat and thus autumn had still to come and knock upon their door.

“Where are you taking Belle today?” Estelle asked Eveline who sat by the kitchen table finishing her cup of breakfast tea.

“I thought I would take her down into Keswick to collect our rations for the week, would you like to come?”

“I really should go for a walk but I just cannot face anyone at the moment,” Estelle admitted as she dried the breakfast plates and put them away.

“What is it that bothers you?” Eveline asked, turning her body round so that she faced her mother.

“It would only upset you if I spoke of my troubles,” Estelle said with a sweet smile, a smile that could not reach her eyes.

“Your troubles are my own,” Eveline replied, setting her china cup down. “Come tell me what ails you?”

“I received a letter from my dear friend Mary this morning,” Estelle began, turning her body away from Eveline and resting her hands upon the porcelain sink.

“Mary who lives in Bath?”

“Yes.”

“What has happened?”

“Her son George has gone missing,” Estelle sighed miserably, her mind conjuring up an image of the young Theodore and Eveline playing among the fields.

“How terrible,” Eveline whispered softly, seeing her mother’s back tense.

“She wishes for me to visit her for a while.”

“And shall you?”

“I would like to very much for we were once firm friends and I have not seen her these last five years,” Estelle said quietly as Belle entered the kitchen, taking her seat at the table.

“Well then you should go, I can stay here with Belle for a few weeks.”

“If I leave then how should I receive word about Theodore?”

“If I receive any letters from Theodore I shall forward them on to you immediately,” Eveline replied kindly, helping Belle to spread butter upon her toast, kissing her forehead lightly.

“And you are sure you can cope without me?” Estelle asked, turning to Eveline and Belle.

“Yes, of course we can,” Eveline smiled warmly as Estelle made her way over to the table, bending down to kiss Belle on her forehead as well.

“Well then I should very much like to go to Bath for a few weeks, maybe you could both journey south and we can spend Christmas with Mary if she wishes it?”

“That’s a lovely idea, I’m sure Belle would love to go to Bath for Christmas,” Eveline said as she looked into Belles cornflower blue eyes.

“Oh yes please!” Belle smiled up at Estelle and Eveline.

“Well then it is settled, I will make arrangements to catch the ten o clock train in the morning,” Estelle replied happily, taking off her apron and hanging it upon a peg by the kitchen door. “I will write to her immediately.”

Estelle left the kitchen without another word, leaving Eveline and Belle alone.

“On that note, don’t you think we should write to your parents before we walk down into Keswick?” Eveline asked Belle, whose mouth was full of granary bread. Belle simply nodded her head vigorously. “Good I am sure they are missing you dreadfully.”

It had not taken long for Belle to write a short letter to her parents and whilst she drew a picture of the cottage, Eveline finished another letter to her parents. With their light coats on, they left the cottage behind and made their way down into Keswick with Wordsworth and a straw basket in which to carry the rations home. The town clock struck ten when they eventually made it into Keswick, passing by some female farm workers who waved to them merrily. Together they visited they toured the shops collecting their weekly rations. When eventually they had collected everything they had needed they stopped by a red post box and popped in their letters, before turning and making their way home once more. Wordsworth had been allowed off his lead on the way home, leaving Eveline and Belle behind.

“It’s sad when the flowers begin to die,” Belle announced as she skipped along the country path that bordered the lake.

“Indeed it is,” Eveline smiled briefly, casting her eyes across the lake which was calm and peaceful.

“Why do they have to die?” Belle asked with pursed brows.

“All things must come to an end Belle, but they will come into bloom again during the spring.”

“I don’t like winter.”

“Neither do I.”

“But I do like it when it snows,” Belle chuckled loudly as Wordsworth came to her side, nuzzling her arm. “Do you like the snow?”

“In fact I do, very much,” Eveline gushed. “I remember one winter, oh about six years ago, the lake had frozen over completely and the countryside was hidden beneath a thick blanket of snow. Do you want to know what we did?”

“Yes please!” jumped Belle, causing Wordsworth to bark aloud.

“Well Estelle found us two long wooden boards and together we put on our heavy coats and boots and made our way up the nearby hill,” Eveline’s eyes shone with remembrance. “When we reached the top we both sat upon our boards and flew down the hill at such speed! I nearly fell off!”

“Oh I wish I could do that!” Belle groaned at the thought.

“You never know we may just have some snow this winter,” Eveline smiled kindly, taking the child’s tiny hand in her own.

“May I ask what Bath is like?” Belle asked, lifting her face up to Eveline’s, in a very ladylike manner which made Eveline’s stomach flip with adoration for the child who had brought so much life into her own very dull existence.

“Well I have only ever been to Bath once with Estelle a few years ago,” Eveline began. “It is very beautiful, with beautiful buildings and parks.”

“May we visit a park?”

“We may visit lots of parks whilst in Bath.”

“Is it like Keswick?”

“No. Bath is a large town filled with shops and historical buildings.”

“I have never been on a holiday before,” Belle mused quietly.

“Well you will love Bath and if you are very well behaved then we may visit the pump rooms,” Eveline laughed deeply, Belle’s eyes glazed as she pictured Bath.

“What are they?”

“A very famous writer by the name of Jane Austen mentions the pump rooms in two of her books,” Eveline stated unsure of how to explain Jane Austen to a young child.

“What do they do? These pump rooms?”

“Well historically, many visitors would have visited the pump rooms to taste the mineral waters that flowed beneath, for it was said that they had healing powers,” Eveline began as they passed a man who stood leaning against a tree.

“Do they really have healing powers?” Belle enquired as she stepped over a large root.

“Well no they don’t,” Eveline smiled unaware that the gentleman was now following them closely behind. “But it was a great place in which to meet new people.”

“Who is Jane Austen?”

“She is a famous writer.”

“Does she still live?”

“No she is long past gone now, but her books are very well loved by many, especially women,” Eveline retorted gently for she loved to read persuasion.

“What are her books about?”

“They are of a romantic nature,” Eveline said lightly. “However they are written in the most beautiful way.”

“I should like to read her books one day,” Belle said aloud, turning her eyes to the man behind.

“Perhaps when you are of an age you may,” Eveline smiled, turning her eyes also.

“Do you think that man is lost?”

“I hope not,” Eveline muttered, a strange feeling cascading throughout her as the man tilted his hat.

“How strange he looks,” Belle said with curious eyes.

“How do you mean?”

“I have never seen eyes so black,” Belle quipped, her clasp on Eveline’s hand tightening. “I don’t much like him, may we walk faster?”

“He means us no harm Belle,” Eveline said with a confidence that betrayed her inner doubts.

“Then why is he following us?” Belle whispered, bidding Wordsworth to stay at her side.

“Why he must just be enjoying a walk,” Eveline lied, for the aura the man effused was dark and sinister. Clutching at Belle’s hand, Eveline quickly took a turn from the path and headed off in the direction of the hills. Wordsworth began to growl as the man followed suite, causing both Eveline and Belle to become frightened. “Quick we must run,” Eveline whispered. Together they picked up their pace, leaving Wordsworth behind. “Come along Wordsworth!” Eveline heralded loudly at the Irish wolfhound, whose behaviour had turned violent. Eveline stopped Belle in her tracks and turned to face the man who stood before Wordsworth. His eyes indeed where black and his face very pale. He looked up from the growling dog and sent a shiver down Eveline’s spine before turning on his heels and walking away only turning around once before disappearing through the trees.  “Wordsworth come!” Eveline ordered once more as Belle hide behind her legs. The wolfhound turned and ran over to her, coming to stop before her, his eyes filled with alarm. “Good boy!” Eveline cooed, stroking his grey ears vigorously.

“Can we go home now?” Belle asked, coming out from behind Eveline’s legs and hugging Wordsworth, who now nuzzled her tiny neck.

“Yes, let’s get home before he returns,” Eveline said darkly, turning on her heels and leading Wordsworth and Belle home, her heart still pounding with fear.

*

“I was starting to worry,” Estelle said when Eveline, Belle and Wordsworth entered the cottage quietly.

“Belle would you take Wordsworth into the kitchen for a moment?” Eveline asked the silent child. Without speaking, Belle took Wordsworth’s collar and led him into the kitchen, leaving Estelle and Eveline alone before a small fire in the living room.

“What is it? What has happened that you should all be so quiet?” Estelle asked her daughter, whose face had grown very pale.

“We were followed on our way home and chased by a strange man,” Eveline announced, taking in a deep breath as she took off her coat, hanging it up on one of the pegs.

“Did you recognise him?” Estelle asked, filled with worry.

“No,” Eveline whispered as she came to sit before the fire, her heart still thudding. “But he felt dark if you can possibly understand what I am saying.”

“Explain to me what it is you felt,” Estelle asked softly, coming to sit opposite Eveline, whose golden eyes darkened.

“You know when you meet a person and you can almost feel an aura radiate from them?” Eveline asked with furrowed brows.

“Yes.”

“Something about that man made me fearful, more so than I have felt before,” Eveline admitted quietly, letting her head fall into her hands whilst taking in deep breathes.

“Did he follow you all the way home?” Estelle enquired cautiously, her eyes drifting to the window, roaming the garden outside.

“No. Wordsworth became really very violent and stood his ground, growling at the man until he turned on his heels and walked away,” Eveline said, lifting her eyes to Estelle.

“How strange,” Estelle murmured, sitting back into her chair.

“Yes, strange indeed.”

“Maybe I should delay my journey to Bath and stay here until all is back to normal,” Estelle said after several moments of silence.

“No, no you must go to Mary, she needs you more than I do,” Eveline argued hotly. “I am sure he will not return.”

“But you clearly are unsettled by this man, he may mean you harm Eveline,” Estelle said with great feeling, her eyes firm and steady.

“I cannot see why anyone would wish me harm,” Eveline said, turning her eyes to the door of the kitchen.

“We have been through this before, you are not like the rest,” Estelle said quietly, her tone of voice gentle. “This in itself may bring unwanted attention.”

“But I have never faced unwanted attention, at least not like this,” Eveline said with aggrieved eyes.

“I have always told you that you and Theodore belong to the forces of light in this world, yes?”

“Yes?”

“You remember what I told you about light?”

“That for light to exist their must also be darkness…,” Eveline lifted her eyes to Estelle, fear reverberating through her body.

“Both are inextricably woven together and both have their powers,” Estelle whispered. “And so if you are the light then there must be those who lurk in the shadows of darkness.”

“A man once said that those who possess light also possess equal amounts of darkness,” Eveline whispered, voicing a deep and lingering fear that at certain points in her life had been brought forward diminishing traces of light within her soul.

“And for all those who possess darkness, light also lingers, thus we all walk in the shadows of ourselves,” Estelle murmured placing a hand upon Eveline’s.

“You believe that I am a servant of light, but I hold the power of serving the darkness that preys on the light.”

“That as it may,” Estelle leaned in closer, her eyes wide. “You choose to serve the light. You choose to use the gifts that have been bestowed upon you to do good, does that not say enough?”

“For all that I am, I am only a glimmer of light within a great ray.”

“Such glimmers of light hold such power.”

“The man that followed us home, he felt so cold, so distant and so very dark.”

“If you believe in the creatures of light then you must also face the truth that there are creatures beholden to the darkness that linger also upon this earth.”

“And you think he may have been one of those creatures?”

“Indeed I do,” Estelle said with a firmness and certainty that shook Eveline’s core.

“What could he possibly want from me?”

“That I cannot answer,” Estelle said with a graveness in her voice. “But it would be foolish of us to assume that you have been blessed with gifts others do not possess for a reason.”

“What can my purpose be? I am but a woman and wife, nothing else.”

“All your life you have whispered to me in the dark how it is you feel older than this world, that you feel as though you are disconnected from it,” Estelle said softly. “As though you are awaiting enlightenment. Maybe the time has come for you to become enlightened as to your real purpose.”

“How do I know that that moment has arrived?” Eveline asked through ragged breathes.

“Maybe you have to face the darkness in order to find out,” Estelle whispered before sitting back once more as Belle re-entered the room, leaving Eveline to her thoughts. Belle stood before Eveline, her face withdrawn.

“Can you play for me?” she asked, pointing to the piano that lay in the music room across the hallway.

“Are you still frightened?” Eveline asked gently, bringing the child into her arms for an embrace.

“My heart still feels cold, as though that man still lingers,” Belle said quietly into Eveline’s arm, causing Estelle to quip her brows.

“Go and play for her, long has it been since the beauty of music has filled these walls,” Estelle said firmly, motioning for her to leave.

“Alright if you really wish me to play, I shall,” Eveline smiled as she rose from her chair, taking Belle’s hand in her own. “What shall I play for you?”

“The song you played on my birthday,” Belle said with a smile as she followed Eveline into the music room. Eveline picked Belle up and placed her upon the piano chair before taking a seat, straightening her back and letting her fingers hover over the ivory keys. “Clair de Lune it is.”

*

Everyone had retired to bed, leaving Eveline alone with her thoughts as she closed the door to her bedroom. Quietly she undressed and picked up her book on Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. Wrapping herself in a warm nightgown she went to her dressing table and sat down, unpinning her hair and letting her thick, auburn curls fall down her back. Randomly she opened the book and cast her eyes down to the first sentence.

“Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present…How relevant,” she smiled before setting the book down and reaching for her brush. With a swish of her left hand she brought her candles to life and sat quietly, gazing at her reflection as she began the long process of brushing her hair. She had enjoyed playing the piano for it allowed her mind to wander outside its usual limits. She had taken to the piano incredibly well as a child unalike Theodore who had detested piano lessons, preferring to be outdoors with the other children. It had seemed like such an age since she and her new husband had been in one another’s company. Sometimes she found herself forgetting his face which led her into a vicious cycle of shame. Since their wedding day which had been so short and rushed, she had become so busy, filling in Belle’s days and taking on new activities within the local town. Sometimes when working in a field she would find herself glancing up at the pale blue sky trying to remember the contours of her husband’s face and instead finding tears upon her cheeks. The truth of the matter was that she had thought about breaking the betrothal, realising during their time apart that her heart did not break as it should have over his departure, that a few months after he had left, she found herself normal once more, missing him as a sister would miss a brother and not as a lover would miss a lover. These opinions she had kept to herself, for her mother had been stricken low by Theodore’s activities in the RAF, especially his missions across the channel.

Many times she would cast her memory back to that day in which he proposed marriage and how she really felt. The truth was that she felt cornered. She had known no other men and therefore could not discern between affection and love. But as the year went by, she had made new friends who had been married or betrothed and she realised through various conversations with them that true love was very much different to the love she bore for Theodore. Often she found herself penning letters to him, writing of how she felt, but as soon as they were complete she would throw them into the fire. One summer’s day a letter arrived from Theodore stating that he had two days leave and wished to be married straight away. His letter had been filled with affection, devotion and a deep yearning to marry Eveline, how could she break his heart before he was to depart to France. She could not abandon him when his life was constantly in danger and so she buried her feelings of sisterly love and married him one rainy day in August. She wore a simple gown and tried her very best to glow with adoration as she walked up the aisle on the arm of Estelle, who was beaming with pride. Her heart had indeed stopped when finally her hands were placed within his own and she remembered why it was that she said yes.

Putting down her brush she sighed lightly and placed her elbows upon the table, leaning her face ever closer to the mirror. A small picture of Theodore in his RAF uniform was placed to the corner of the mirror. With her fingers she traced all of her features lightly. They had not spent their wedding night together and she wondered how it would be, when he eventually returned to her. Blinking she let her fingers fall from her face, landing atop her heart, the gentle thud causing her pulse to race slightly. They had written barely a dozen letters to one another since their wedding day and with each week she grew anxious about Theodore, wondering if he had been hurt or killed in action. After a moments pause she rose from her chair and made for the window, looking out across the darkened lands beyond, that fell in a curve before the lake. With gentle eagerness she opened her window and let the night air sweep into her room, causing her auburn hair to dance lightly. She leaned out of the window and cast her eyes upon the full moon feeling an instant connection to it. Ever since she had been a young child, she had felt a very real and deep connection to the night sky, spending many a night simply gazing out of her window. It filled her with an insatiable sense of purpose, whatever that purpose may be. Every star felt as though it had its own soul and she in turn could almost feel them within her.

At such times as these she often wondered about her parents, who had died when she was small. She had been adopted by a young married couple, who found they could not cope with special abilities, fearing the consequences and thus putting her up for adoption again. Eveline did not know if fate had played a hand in leading her here, but she was glad of it. Estelle had given her exactly what she had needed, freedom. She had encouraged her in every part of her life, stepping aside to allow her the freedom to evolve into the woman she was now. Under her frail complexion and shy reserve she was strong, strong in a manner unalike many who were outwardly strong and confident. Life had been bliss within the walls of thorn cottage, but it was not always so kind outside and she had been an outcast among the young community of Keswick for a long time, with only Theodore and Wordsworth for company. Taking in a deep breathe, she left the window slightly ajar and made for her bed. Gently she placed her nightgown over the end of her bed and slipped under the covers, turning her body onto its side and curling herself into the foetal position. Quietly she said her nightly prayer and fell into a haunting sleep as always, her dreams filled with mystery and darkness.

The moon hung high in the sky and a distant owl cried out, its cry echoing across the lake. Eveline lay still and unmoving in her bed as the tiny ball of light entered her window, finding her face and gently touching her skin lightly, causing her to awaken. Sitting up straight, Eveline wiped her eyes harshly, re focusing her gaze. At the end of her bed she found a small ball of light hovering in the air causing her heart to tremble with fear. Curiosity eventually won and she slipped her long legs out of the bed and tip toed to the end, standing before the ball of light. Cautiously she held out her index finger and touched the light, feeling a flow of heat run through her arm and body, touching her heart instantly. All at once the ball began to move, disappearing through her door. Quietly, Eveline opened the door and stepped out onto the corridor, where the ball of light awaited her. She did not waste any time in putting on her nightgown or slippers for the ball of light began to move steadily, guiding her through the corridor towards the stairs. Silently she followed the light down the narrow and steep stairs, holding onto the banister for balance. The ball of light awaited her at the foot of the steps before moving once more towards the front door, disappearing once again through it. Unthinking and almost trancelike, Eveline opened the door and stepped out into the darkness. The sky was clear and filled with bright stars as she followed the light down the winding garden path. A light breeze caused the dying flowers to rustle about her as she opened the garden gate and stepped out onto the moist grass. Goosebumps formed upon her skin as her bare feet made their way through the long blades of grass, soaking the hem of her nightdress. About her the world stood dark and unyielding as she followed the ball of golden light down the hill and towards the shores of the lake which lay peacefully before her. Stopping she turned to look upon the cottage, seeing it in the distance, alight by the full moon. The ball of light touched her hand, causing her to turn about abruptly. Suddenly it began to move once again in the direction of the lake. Eveline followed once more, wading her way through the thicket of tall trees, her bare feet becoming buried within fallen leaves and patches of mud. About her creatures of the night shuffled within the trees, small animals skittering across the ground.

Finally she found herself before the lake, the cold water splashing at her muddied feet. Above her an owl flew overhead causing her to cast her eyes to the heavens. The stars began to glimmer in a way that Eveline had never seen before. When the owl past she lowered her gaze to the ball of light that now hovered above the water in the distance. With speed it found her once again and touched her arm lightly bidding her to follow.

“It is too deep,” she whispered to the light, coherent enough to realise that walking on water was impossible. The ball of light moved behind her and pushed her onwards, her feet suddenly entering the cold and merciless waters. Again the ball pushed her onwards and she found that her feet had found a platform, akin to a path that enabled her to walk across the water without sinking into it. The ball of light now satisfied with her movements hurled on before her, coming to hover over the centre of the lake. Eveline cautiously made her way out to the centre of the lake, stopping abruptly when the ball of light changed into a golden door, large and bright, causing the lakes waters to shimmer. Eveline stood still, scared of what was to come. She glanced behind her before turning to take a step back towards the shore. When she placed her foot down upon the water she found there was no platform to keep it afloat and turned around, facing the golden door once more. With trembling lips she stepped forward once more until she stood before the door, her long hair dancing in the cold breeze. As she stood before the door, she watched on as it opened, another smaller ball of light coming out of the door, settling behind her back, pushing her onwards until she found herself entering through the doorway, a beam of white light exploding around her, causing her to a have a momentary collapse of vision.

Eveline felt herself falling through white light, her body being pushed downwards until she felt herself hit a marble floor, the white light disappearing. Biting down on her lips, Eveline opened her eyes and looked around. With wide eyes she struggled to her feet and took in her surroundings with awe. She was standing within an enormous palace, made out of white stone and marble. Lifting her gaze she observed the beautifully carved ceiling which stood at least three to four hundred feet above her. Lowering her gaze slowly, she realised that she was standing in between two thick aisles of people who were turned, their gazes travelling past her. Turning, Eveline watched as two enormous glass processional doors opened. A beautiful light filled the enormous hall as the doors opened to allow in a procession, headed by a couple, a man and woman finely dressed in robes of silver and gold. Behind them a large wave of applause filled the air, filling the great hall and sending shivers down Eveline’s body. As the light streamed into the nave of the palace, Eveline stood aside to watch the procession progress. Above her music began to play. Eveline could identify with some of the instruments that were being used, such as horns, lutes and even a harp. Standing perfectly still, Eveline watched on as the couple made their way up the long nave. She noticed that the woman who was beautifully dressed in gold held a small baby, wrapped in red cloth. Both the man and woman wore beautifully woven crowns of copper. What struck Eveline deeply was the likeness between herself and the young woman, who had like herself long, auburn hair and golden eyes.

Slowly the couple and their child passed Eveline, causing her heart to skip a beat as she looked down at the babe, whose golden eyes were upon its mother. Without thinking, Eveline followed the couple up the nave, staying close to the young man, whose green eyes were ablaze with joy. Before them stood two thrones made of gold, silver and copper. Before the thrones stood a circular font made of white stone, filled with water. Quickly, Eveline looked behind her and observed a procession of men finely dressed in uniform, who were being led up the nave by a man dressed in white and silver robes, who had in his hands upon a small book.

At once the music stopped and the great hall fell silent as the young couple stood before the font patiently. Eveline stood back and watched on as the elderly man she assumed to be some sort of bishop made his way to the font. A young boy, finely dressed stepped forward from the congregation, a small copper crown upon his head. In his hand was a copper cup and as he came to stand before the elderly man he handed him the cup and stood back. Eveline could not help but feel herself smile, such love was in the eyes of the young couple as they gazed down into the eyes of their infant child. The man dipped the cup into the water and held it up high above his head.

“King Elieor and Queen Unyae of the three Kingdoms of Calnuthe, name this your child, born of the heavens and earth.”

Together the young couple replied gently, their eyes still on the infant.

“Her royal highness Celestine, Elionor, Unyae.”

Eveline felt her body shake as the words were uttered, stepping closer to the couple.

“Do you swear to protect and guide Celestine, Elionor, Unyae, born of the heavens and earth?”

“We do.”

“Do you swear to raise Celestine, Elionor, Unyae, in the light, forsaking all darkness?”

“We do.”

The royal couple handed their small babe over to the priest who cradled her lovingly in his arms. Cautiously he set the rim of the cup upon her lips and tipped its contents up a little so that water dripped into her mouth, causing her to cry out in protest. The priest gave the cup of water to the waiting boy before nursing the child. After a moment, he turned and began to walk around the two thrones, holding the child up into the air carefully.

“Child of the Heavens, child of the Earth, we submit you into the arms of Heiden, God of the Heavens and God of the Earth.”

Eveline watched on as he came full circle smiling at the royal couple, whose eyes were glistening with tears. Turning, the couple stood before the enormous congregation and watched on as the priest stood before them holding the child up.

“I here present unto you, her royal highness, Celestine, Elinor, Unyae of Calnuthe. Do you, people of Calnuthe swear to protect and guide her royal highness, Celestine, Elionor, Unyae, of the three Kingdoms?”

In unison the congregation replied with a firm.

“Yey.”

“May Heiden, God of the Heavens and God of the Earth bless you with righteousness, glory, strength and courage. May he walk with you and protect you in all your ways. May you prosper in all you do, ever faithful to your God and people of whom you serve.”

All at once ethereal music filled the great hall and the priest made his way down the nave with the newly blessed Celestine, Elionor, Unyae. The congregation stood and watched on with joy as the priest, babe and royal couple once again made their way up the nave. Eveline quickly followed, her muddied feet leaving stains upon the marble floor. Slowly she proceeded to follow the royal couple through the tall processional glass doors and out onto the steps of the palace, which stood high above a large courtyard below, filled with what looked to be a large crowd of peasants. With one wave of a guard’s hand the crowd grew silent as the priest held up the crying babe.

“I here present unto you, her royal highness, Celestine, Elinor, Unyae of Calnuthe.”

The crowd erupted into a joyful applause, cries of mirth filling the atmosphere, causing Eveline to feel moved beyond words. How loved this small family were. As she stood upon the steps she cast her eyes beyond the courtyard and could see that a large city was located across a wide and unyielding river that separated the royal palace from the city. To the south she could see what looked to be the sea. Above her the sky was blue and the birds sang out in harmony on such a joyous occasion. Focusing her eyes on the couple she drew in a deep breath and slowly edged her way over to them, standing before them. Time seemed to stop as she took in the features of the young couple. The Queen stood tall and beautiful, her long auburn hair flowing down her back, her golden eyes filled with water. Standing before her, Eveline felt something within her warm, she felt a deeply rooted connection to the young Queen, something she had never before felt. How alike they were, how very alike they were. Turning her eyes, she gazed upon the young King, tall and handsome, his hair golden and his eyes green. He wrapped an arm about his wife and looked down into her eyes with a mixture of pride and love. The priest turned and handed the small infant back into the arms of her beloved parents and for a brief moment, Eveline caught a glimpse of her and felt herself shake. The child, who looked so very alike her, was so very akin to her it shook her inner being.

Why was she here? What had brought her here? And who was she to this couple?

Eveline plucked up the courage to take the littles girls hand into her own and found that the child’s eyes looked up into her own, her face brightening as she smiled up at Eveline. Beside her she could hear something and turned, seeing a small ball of light hovering beside her arm. At once the ball of light entered her body and suddenly everything around her began to fade away into a swirl of light, as she felt herself fall once more through a tight void that almost sucked the very breathe from her body. With a thud she landed upon a field of moist grass, her body moulded to the ground in pain. With her eyes shut, she could feel the rays of the dawn fall upon the sleeping world around her. Pain soared through her as she opened her eyes and forced her body to sit up, the dew of the grass dampening her nightdress. She was once again near the shore of Lake Derwentwater. With an inward groan she stood up and looked out across the lake, now alight with the rays of dawn. Standing in silence she fixed her nightdress and began to process all that she had seen. Had God given her vision? If so what did it all mean? As she stood contemplating her vision she felt the air tighten, the rays of the sun fading away behind the distant mountains. A sensation similar to the sensation she had felt when being sucked into the void of white light, caught at her chest and she bent over in panic, her hands at her throat.

“Such beauty, such power,” a deep and malleolus voice announced. Eveline turned her eyes to the man that now walked towards her, beautiful and dark, robed in black, his feet bare. Eveline fell to her knees with a terrible swiftness as the man controlled her body with the wave of a pale and thin hand. “And beautiful you are,” he sneered, coming to stand before her, tall and powerful, the sky turning black in his presence. Eveline tried to find her voice but failed as she struggled to breathe. With strength she lifted her eyes to the man and felt fear in the pit of her stomach. For within his beauty lay such horror, such terror, veiled in such beauty as she had never seen before. His eyes were of such a black it almost boasted of consuming all colour known to the human eyes. His hair, long and ice blonde did not bend to the winds harsh commands. The man did not bend for anything or anyone, instead he bent down low, tilting his head slightly as though observing Eveline as she writhed in pain before him. “How lonely you are, hidden here among the monotonous and bromidic species that are humans. Such desolation in your eyes, to be brought so low by your own kind.” The man bent even lower, clasping her chin in his cold hand. “To be so unenlightened as to your true self. To be disregarded and cast away, to be kept hidden and shielded from all that you are, just like your mother.” Eveline forced her head away from the clutches of the man’s hand, closing her eyes in pain. “You will look at me, creature of the light!” the man cried out suddenly forcing her body off the ground and into the cold air. Eveline struggled, her body burning with pain as her eyes were forced to hold his own. “She was brought low too, hidden away from the eyes of her people. How she would weep for your existence, how she wept when she held you in her arms as she drew her last and final breathe in the knowledge that all she had once known and stood for had left her destitute and alone.”

Eveline felt a tear fall from her eyes as she battled against the burning in her lungs. From behind the man’s bare feet a snake came out of the shadows and wound its way up the man’s tall body, settling upon his shoulder, its eyes red and filled with venom.

“How easy it would be to take you, to kill you now, forever brandishing the sun with your blood,” the man whispered into her face, his cold, harsh breath filling her mouth. “How long I have searched for you, creature of the light.” The snake hissed loudly, slithering onto her own shoulders, her body trembling at the feeling. Eveline felt a sharp bite upon her throat and cried out, the snake’s teeth burying deep within her, blood spilling from her pale skin. When the teeth had retracted from her, the snake slithered back to its master. The man stood back, suddenly noticing something in the distance. “I shall be waiting in the shadows for you, Celestine.” At once he was gone and she fell to the ground, unconscious.

*

Estelle awoke from her nightmare, sitting upright in her bed, her body alive with alarm. Quickly she got out of her bed and made her way to Eveline’s room, feeling guided by an inner feeling that all was not well with her daughter. She opened the door of Eveline’s room and entered. Looking over at the bed she found it was empty and suddenly a deep seated fear filled her and she ran to the open window, casting her eyes down upon the land. Her eyes suddenly fell upon two figures, one who she knew to be Eveline the other unknown but frightening to behold. Estelle gasped as she realised her daughter was hanging in mid-air, her body bent forward. With haste she turned and exited the room running as fast as she could down the corridor and narrow steps. Forgetting her shoes and nightgown she violently opened the door of the cottage and ran out into the darkness.

“Eveline!” she cried out, her feet drenched in dew from the long blades of grass. “Be gone!” she screamed at the man who stood before Eveline, tall and unhuman in form. The man found her gaze and she felt ice within her heart forcing her to stop running. In the blink of an eye he vanished and she watched as Eveline fell to the ground with a loud thud. With renewed strength she began to run again, quickly coming to Eveline’s side. “Eveline wake up,” she cried, turning the lifeless Eveline onto her back. Gently she lifted Eveline’s head and cradled it in her lap, bending her head down, their foreheads pressed against one another. “Eveline awaken!” she cried, salted tears falling onto her daughter’s cold cheek. As she knelt upon the moist grass, holding Eveline in her arms she could hear Belle running down.

“Evie!” the little girl cried aloud. Estelle turned her eyes to the child, who ran across the grass, her arms out stretched.

“Go into the house Belle!” Estelle cried out, waving a hand in her direction. Belle refused and stopped before Estelle and Eveline, her cornflower blue eyes filled with tears.

“Evie,” she whispered, falling to Eveline’s side, taking her lifeless hand into her own. With her other hand she wiped away a long strand of auburn hair, bending her lips to Eveline’s lips, kissing her softly. “Wake up.” The trio knelt in silence until a male voice could be heard, the rays of dawn resting upon the world once more.

“Miss, can I help?” a young man with a leather suitcase ran across the grass, throwing his suitcase upon the grass before he came to stand before the trio.

“My daughter, she is ill,” Estelle cried out, looking up into the face of the man, his blue eyes piercing.

“Let me, I will bring her up to the house,” the man said. Estelle stood up and bid Belle to stand away from Eveline, letting the man have better access. With ease he lifted Eveline’s body into his arms.

“Quickly she will catch pneumonia,” Estelle stressed, bidding the man to hurry. Belle ran on ahead of Estelle and the man, disappearing into the cottage. Estelle lifted the man’s suitcase and brought it with her, showing him the way in to the cottage. “Upstairs if you please,” she ordered, making her way up the narrow staircase. The man followed with ease, his eyes cast down upon the lifeless form of Eveline. Estelle led him to a room in which Belle stood waiting for them.

“On the bed please,” Estelle said watching as the man lay Eveline down upon the cream sheets, wiping away a strand of hair.

“I will sound presumptuous but if you could please fetch me warm water and blankets?” the man asked, turning his blue eyes to Estelle.

“Are you a doctor?” Estelle asked quickly, her eyes aggrieved.

“I am.”

“Then warm water and blankets you shall have,” Estelle proclaimed, holding out her hand for Belle to follow. When Estelle and Belle left the room with the door open, the man waited a moment before bending over Eveline, laying a hand upon her heart and closing his eyes.

“Awake!” he ordered, a beam of golden light filling the room. When the light faded he sat by Eveline, his hand still upon her heart. He felt a thud under his hand and sighed with a breath of relief. Gently Eveline opened her golden eyes and looked up into his blue eyes, her heart thudding sharply under his fingers as though a bolt of electricity had coursed through both of them. Without speaking, Eveline lifted her right hand, laying it upon his chest, his heart thudding under her touch.

“Who are you?” Eveline whispered as she lay beneath the man, his eyes so very blue.

“My name is Galean.”

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