The world behind the words

Prologue

I've always wanted a life worth writing about, and I guess now that's what I have. You see I always thought my biography worthy life would be compiled of books and exploration and, well I don't know. Not what it turned out to be. See my biography worthy life turned out to be compiled by...keys? 
    My story started out with a box. A small wooden box with symbols carved into the top of it. I'd looked at wooden box plenty of times before, but I'd never really seen it. It was my grandfathers and after he died, he left it for me. I hadn't thought much of the old thing until I started noticing that it never stayed in the closet where I'd stored it away. At first I thought my mom or sister had moved it, but they didn't know anything. The box had a rusted metal lock keeping it shut and I had no clue where the key was. But, I just had to know what was inside, my curiosity was eating away at me. How could I resist an old mysterious box that moved by itself?
    I took it outside and hit the lock against a stone until I heard a metallic clank and it fell away. I ran my hand over the ornate carvings in the wood before opening the box.
A puff of dust came out when I popped the lid open and I coughed as the old stale air filled my lungs. I looked down in shock, it was empty. There wasn't a single thing in there. Well... that was disappointing to say the least. I ran my hand along the velvet interior and cocked an eyebrow as my nail caught on a small, nearly invisible, string the was hooked somewhere in the velvet. I pulled the string and a small lid came up from the bottom of the box.
     There was a small chamber in the bottom, this part wasn't lined with velvet, instead it had carvings much like the ones on the lid. There were two old coins, a slip of folded paper, and a necklace tucked into a piece of yellowed, once white cloth. Stuffed in the compartment beside the bundle was a key. I pick up the cloth and ran my finger over its contents, they look old... Very old, and beautiful. I unfolded the paper and read the scrawling  handwriting.
    "It is at times like these we ask ourselves, Who prays for Lucifer? Who has the humanity to pray for the sinner in need of it the most?  And now my dear, it is time to ask ourselves another question, "Where can we find those who send their prayers to the damned?" So, we start our journey, to find those few souls. Farewell my love, and good luck.
With love,
Lady Elizabeth Igniston"
    I dropped the old paper back into the secret compartment and closed the lid. There was something about it that sent a chill down my back, maybe it was the cryptic letter or the symbols carved into the wood or the way that the air around me felt stiff and thick when the box was open, or all of those things combined I suppose. Anyways, this, thing, scared me. Well... not exactly scared me it just felt heavy, sick. But, I still felt compelled to open it. I brought the box inside and set it down on my bed before walking to the door. I stopped in the door frame and turned back, taking things off my bed and pushing it back into my closet. Its's where it wanted to be.
    After asking a few family members about Lady Elizabeth I concluded that they were useless and knew nothing of the woman. I had never heard of her, my parents had never heard of her, not even my great aunt had heard of the mysterious Miss Ingniston. She, apparently, had never been talked about by my grandfather, Either that or he had used some other name for her. Which, going by the creepily cryptic letter, I would not doubt.
    I had more luck when I visited the local library, I love libraries, usually I would do research on my computer, but it seemed like Miss Ignistion would be better tracked in old documents. She seemed like the kind of woman to cover any footprints in the sand. I found two mentions of her in old newspaper articles. The first was an offhanded comment in an interview with a nun, apparently Miss Igniston had stopped by the convent to pick something up. The nun didn't talk specifically about her, just mentioned that, "The good Lady Ignistion had just come by to pick up her things." before something unrelated occurred in the convent.

   
    The second article was more directed towards her. It was a report of theft, something had been stolen from Elizabeth's manor. Although from what I had read she was quite wealthy, only one small thing was taken from her estate. A box. A box described as having intricate carvings in its dark rosewood exterior, just like the box I had.

'    "Eva!"
I looked up at the sound of my name being called (quite loudly) across the library. I saw a flash of bright colors as my girlfriend came running towards me, her yellow dress and pink hair band contrasting dramatically with the dull grey library around her.
"Ananya what're you doing here?" I whispered,
"I went by your house to try and find you and your mom said you were here." She smiled at me, her deep brown eyes crinkled around the corners like they always do when she's happy. She had henna running up and down her arms, the orange ink blending beautifully into her dark copper skin. I couldn't help but smile back at her.
    "So anyways," She continued, "I was thinking we should start working on our science assignment."
"Okay...but first I gotta tell you something." She quirked an eyebrow.
"What is it, angel?"
"So, remember that old box my grandpa gave to me?"
"Yeah...What about it?"
"It kept showing up in places I hadn't put it and it was kinda freaking me out so I decided to open it."
"Ooh!" She exclaimed. "What was in it? Anything good?"
    I told her about what I had found inside the box, about Lady Igniston, and the heavy, sick feeling that was still hanging around me. She pursed her lips and took the papers from the table in front of me. Reading through them quickly before setting them back down and taking a moment to think.
    "Well." She began, "this is definitely strange."
"No kidding."
"We have to figure out who that woman was."
"I know but how?"
"These articles all talk about places in Belgium, right?"
"Thats where the convent was, and probably her manor."
"You have family in Belgium, Eva!" She whisper shouted at me. "They probably know about this!"
    "Maybe I could go and stay with them over summer holiday. I'm 15 now my parents should be fine with it."
"Even if they don't know anything, you could probably find the old convent and explore there. I can come with you."
     I huffed and sat down. "What are the odds that the convent would still be there? I doubt my mom would let me go all the way to Belgium anyways."
We start walking to the park. Ananya walks beside me and I can tell that she's thinking, she always picks at her fingernails when she's thinking.
"What if you told your mom it was for school?"
"I guess that could work...but I'm still not sure."