DIANA A. CARAGEA

I.
The misty mirage surrounding the Baunilian Islands seems to conceal a hidden miniature treasure for the place has an electric ancient pulse: from the small towns with snow, coloured houses and marble flowers carved on each window sill to the grandiose Temple of the Moon with its high, Doric columns. It can be found in the heart of the southern province called Attara.
Clovia was the capital since the dawn of time. Many wanderers often visit this urban jewel. Especially merchants that come and go like early birds which shapeshift into night owls to get spices, mainly the famous clove, grown on the Luti family’s land.
Alexander Luti is a robust old man, seen as a tyrant by the community. He owns the province because of his great-grandfather that has been chosen as the South Chief after the colonisation. And so, labour work got established and whoever opposed didn’t get to eat anything for the rest of the year except leftovers found in the garbage holes.
‘But Mr Luti, I had no intention in causing you any harm.’
‘Look me in the eye when you’re talking to me, good for nothing!’
Says Luti whilst spitting on a poor young man. Before he could say anything, Luti booted him in the stomach. Kicked in the spine for repetitive times as the shocked workers were helplessly staring; called to watch the circus.
‘Father, please stop this nonsense.’
A young woman appears from the hemicycle crowd of servants, her long radiant green dress making her stumble.
The man seems to soften a little.
‘Did you finish your duties for the day to be here lecturing me, Isadora?’
A heavy sigh escapes her rosy lips. As she takes a deep breath, a strong alcohol scent hits her nostrils like a heavy hail during the summer.
‘No, I didn’t but can you please stop? You’re drunk, people are watching.’
Mr Luti grabs his daughter by her beautiful golden locks, dragging the crying thing after him.
II.
‘In here you stay! Ungrateful little brat.’
A soft click could be heard from behind the door. She got locked inside.
Isadora is nothing in her father’s eyes but a mere offspring. Her mother, whom she knew nothing about, was a noble Elyrian from the North. She was truly despised by Luti for not only leaving afterbirth but also the burden that had to designate the lack of a male heir. Since the father hated the Northerners after his failed marriage, the region had to flourish by itself.
She must suffice the role by becoming the wife of a wealthy farmer’s son, known over the waters for his excellent dairy products and meat which were on high demand. A young blonde man of the same age as the lady. That young man.
Isadora couldn’t help but think about him through the tears and freshly made red bruises. ‘Is Julian in pain the way I am or is it any different? Men must have thicker skin.’
She tries to avoid thinking about the worst.
Julian truly cared about her well being enough to plan running away with her. He always talks about killing pigs and curses like a sailor but the young man is everything she’s got. Nobody to rely on since girls her age mocked her for the modest clothing she chooses to wear and the way in which she lets her hair loose instead of braiding it, according to customs. Isadora had to learn how to sew for herself since her personal seamstress never quite bothered to help, no matter how many coins the young lady insisted to offer. After all, the hard working woman didn’t want to get punished because of Isadora’s caprices.
It was no strange thing that malicious servants were silently watching from the shadows for any secret they could lay their hands on. They wanted the tyrrant gone for good. They were not enough to start a riot but were most certainly enough to make Isadora’s life a living hell. She must find a ticket out of this vile place. ‘The way mother has found’, she thought as loneliness cut her breath away like a blade in the chest that kept going deeper and deeper.
A swallow appears out of nowhere hits the bay window of the room. Isadora goes to check what was the matter and a sudden breeze opens the two panels wide. She steps outside. Not a single thing in sight.
A small flinch goes through her petite body for her feet have touched the cold grass. Looking down, it was a small golden coin under her sole. It has the symbol of Death; a hooded creature that brings peace among the tormented souls. Also, the coin stands for a threat token.
‘At least they wanted me to find it this time. Odd, they’re usually silver.’
The back garden with its smell of freshly cut grass stirred in the young lady a nightmare she used to have as a child about her mother yelling after her. Time and again, it happened where she was standing right now.
As she shakes away the bitterness caused by the memory, the swallow flies into her face.
‘At least one of us is not going to remain here for long. Fly safe.’
III.
The next day, Isadora finds the door unlocked and gets ready to go to the Temple, choosing a black dress, quickly taking the leather journal where she kept all her studies.
She rapidly goes through the square, almost bumping into a watermelon carriage.
Stepping in adagio on the black marble stairs of the Holy Sanctuary, Isadora is hearing footsteps from behind. ‘They must be watching me after the incident.’
Then, in a rushed movement, Julian clutches her wrist and drags her inside without saying a thing.
‘What on Earth do you think you’re doing?’
He was limping heavily.
There is an enormous statue of a beautiful woman with long hair wearing a flower crown and a sceptre with a crescent moon on top, standing on a silver throne adorned with rubies and emeralds. Isadora looks right into the immense marble statue’s eyes for a moment as if defying the Goddess; she also didn’t go like Julian to kiss her bare feet.
‘Isa, swear to me in front of the Goddess that you didn’t use me to get away from here to be with another.’
A thunderous silence strikes the hard walls back and forth as Isadora is trying to think of an answer.
‘So it is true then. You don’t care for me.’
‘Julian, where did you hear such wickedness?’
‘From the baker down the street.’
‘Could you please not believe everything that flies around? Look what I’ve found yesterday by the window.’
She takes the golden token out of her pocket and hands it to the man in a heartbeat.
‘By the love of Luna, Isa… Why didn’t you look for me sooner?’
‘Julian, our engagement isn’t even a season old, and there’s plenty to unwrap but you must know father never allows me to leave the estate except for studying here, with the Priestess. Also, I have kept getting these tokens since I was a child. Many envy the power I could have if I shall ever become the heiress and priestess of Attara.’
‘I see.’
‘Are you feeling any better or is it silly to ask?’
There was a soft flicker in Julian’s eyes as if he had remembered how blessed one could be having a fitting arranged marriage with the most beautiful woman on the island.
‘No, I’m quite alright. No need to worry about me when that monster hurt you as well.’
Uneasiness made Isadora cross her arms.
The man tries to approach the lady for comfort but she takes a step back.
‘I have to prepare the altar and the materials. The High Priestess should be here any minute with the children.’
‘You do like children, don’t you, Isa? I hear you’re teaching for quite a whilst and that has made the priestess take a liking in you. I’ve heard this from my mother this time.’
‘Now, this is true. I love teaching the little ones for better times with brighter minds… Anything but living in such awful times like these, where instead of reading a useful book, our dear folk bashes my existence for entertainment purposes.’
‘I shall get out of your hair then.’
He presses his lips on her knuckles before leaving.
Both were too busy to notice the priestess standing in the doorway with a faded smile on her face.
The man nods, greeting the old woman.
‘Ready, dear?’
‘Yes, Highness.’
IV.
The dawn succumbed any trace of light as Isadora returned home after a rough day of trying to avoid the questions asked by the children referring to her wounds, lying about falling down the stairs.
A void shapes into her stomach as the lady notices the light coming from inside and a large shadow making its way across the living room. ‘No. The pain has to stop, at least for a day.’ And gone she was in the dark, heading to the forest.
The chilly wind embraces her, intensely growing just to lead Isadora into a grove where the moon has made a small, clear nest; she lays on the patch of earth, right in the middle for a better view of the night sky, revealing Cassiopeia pointing towards the North Star for lost wanderers in the abyss of life.
‘I only wish to be free…’
She whispers to herself before falling into a deep sleep.
V.
In the morning, a strange vanilla scent hits her nostrils and before waking up, a soft woman’s voice whispered through the dream veil: ‘Follow the lead, don’t tell a soul about the cursed coin.’
‘What nonsense was I dreaming about?’, says the lady whilst rubbing her eyes gently.
‘Ah, that silly coin, I wonder where it could be.’
Isadora decides to go to Julian’s house and face her father together for they were indeed going to leave the province for good and start somewhere else; better and peaceful, perhaps build their own family. The young man was bewitched by anything she would say, any demand being nothing but a wish on the verge of coming true.
She arrives at his house, knocking for three times. Julian answers with a worried look on his face, all dressed in black.
He grabs the lady by her frail shoulders, dragging the woman inside.
‘Isa, what did you do?’
‘What do you mean, Julian? You’re frightening me.’
He sighs deeply.
‘Don’t lie to me. What happened last night?’
‘Julian, stop acting so strange, I didn’t do anything! I wasn’t even home, alright? Father never hit me like that in my entire life so I got scared and couldn’t make it inside. I still have wounds to mend so I slept in the woods.’
‘You’re lying, Isa. Look at you, dressed in black.’
‘Julian…’
The man starts walking around in circles as his teary eyes turn red.
‘You need to leave town. They’re going to hang you, Isa.’
Tears slowly fall down her face.
‘Why, Julian, why? What did you hear this time?’
She whispers weakly.
‘Because you killed him. Your father is dead.’
Isadora falls down her knees, defeated.
‘No!’
‘You, fool.’
‘How did he die?’
‘Arson. Everything’s burnt to the ground. The villa, the barns, everything. You must have had someone to do the task for you. Perhaps we could make him the scapegoat.’
After a long silence, Julian continues. Mourners could be heard nearby.
‘I need to help out with the funeral.’
He hands her a white handkerchief and helps the shaking lady back on her feet.
‘You need to leave. Hurry on the back door and head towards the river. Hide in the nearby cave, I will see you later.’
Isadora suddenly remembered the woman’s voice from her dream. To follow the lead. She left without saying a word, keeping her secret safe.
VI.
In the Temple’s basement filled with supplies for the altar and old books, Isadora stays hidden by the Priestess.
‘Highness, you must understand I did nothing wrong yet they’re chasing me like a criminal. I could have gotten shot in the meadow by two hunters if a flock of ravens hadn’t started attacking them. Only madness all around!’
She gasps for air still as the Priestess offers her some red tea to drink.
‘Not a soul shall know you’re here, under the Temple. I told you for so many times, Isadora, there’s no trait of poisonous evil in you. The Goddess is watching and helps in the most mysterious ways.’
A strange sense of hesitation strikes the lady, thinking whether to tell the Priestess about the coin or not.
‘Follow the lead.’
‘What is the meaning of this, child?’
‘I slept in the woods. Waking up, a woman’s voice told me these strange words. I remembered them before mourners came to take Julian with them.
‘I see. Well, in this case, let’s not upset unknown forces by just laying around.’
‘What? High Priestess, you just told me that I’m safe here.’
‘Hush, for now only. Is there anything else I need to know?’
Some time passes as Isadora tells the older woman about the threat tokens and how she has received another one yesterday.
‘A golden one?’
‘Yes, how do you know?’
The priestess opens Isadora’s hand, dropping the cursed coin inside of her sweaty palm.
‘You must have dropped it. To make matters worse, I found it in front of the Holy Altar. A bad omen like no other. You need to leave the province and fast!’
‘You’re frightening me.’
The weeping lady couldn’t contain the unceasing tears flowing.
‘Someone who truly despises you is playing with the God of Death and you dare bring him here, in my Temple!’
‘You mean A-…’
‘Don’t you dare say his name in this sanctuary.’
A snake enters in the room and throws itself at Isadora.
‘Get out, take it through the tunnel!’
VII.
Isadora managed to lose one of her shoes in the murky and wet tunnel, used to snitch inside the Temple helpless locals that were under attack a hundred years ago. There used to be a waterfall concealing the ingenious getaway. She cuts her foot in the rocks at the bottom of it. Way ahead, there is the exit, at last, where the shadowy, washed-out ships could be seen at sea.
She finally makes it outside the tunnel and jumps into the sparkling water that is spoiling the sun in its playful fractal waves; barely disturbing the majestic azure, mirrored sky with her thrown feather body.
She didn’t know how to swim.
Naked bodies of everyone she used to know are floating around her in a sick mirage; trapped and going down, defeated yet relieved that all the endurance and the attributed sins shall go away. Life was nothing but hazy torture, not being able to defend against the strikes most of the time but they were there, shaping a wildfire where everyone she ever cared about had to suffer from.
Every sin washed away. The radiant green shades of the water got darker by the moment. The beautiful lady finally closes her eyes, the other shoe falling as well into the unknown.
‘Follow the lead.’
She weakly opens her eyes again, gasping for air.
A dark figure comes and grabs her by the waist and dragging her down the bottom of the unknown.
VIII.
You are now free.
Fair lady, I tried to keep you safe from the adoration you had stricken in Death but my dream premonitions have failed miserably.
Kind Isadora, you must know, darling, that the spiritual veil thins day by day because of the lack of belief. With every breath, I’m fading into nothingness. Nobody seeks to find out what’s on the other side like they used to.
You are always present in your mother’s prayers and how highly she speaks of you: her beautiful lost daughter that couldn’t even look at for more than a couple moments before your cruel father sent her away after seeing a baby girl was born instead of a boy.
Now, you need to wake up and give him the coin to leave you alone. He is the one that gave it to you which is odd since he hardly takes any interest in humans.
Don’t you ever play with Death again!
IX.
The young woman finds herself on a strange ship and as she looks at her hand, it seems translucent and lifeless.
A young, tall blonde man dressed in a black suit with a golden embroidered tie and brown leather shoes comes to her with a wide smile on his face.
“It seems we meet at last, Isadora. How was your trip?”
“Who are you?”
“Your most desired wish come true.”
“Death.”
“Indeed I am. Where would you like to sit? I’ve got a marvellous place in the captain’s cabin, which would be me.”
“I’ve got something for you.”
“Hm?”
Isadora blushes as she hands him the coin.
“Oh, you’re no fun. Let me take you to the shore, at least.”
After a whilst, the man continues.
“See you later, darling. I could’ve really used a companion. It gets awfully lonely in here sometimes.”
X.
Isadora wakes up in the sand.
Next to her lays an older man with chestnut hair staring at her in astonishment.
“You’re a lucky one, you know that?”
He softly laughs.
“It’s not every day I see a pretty woman like you on the shore. I almost thought you were dead.”
“What?”
“Rest, now. Some ship must have rescued you.
“Where am I?”
“Elyria.”

Source: Inheritance by Tom Bagshaw