Blood Ink (The Archives Book I): Editing

Chapter 03: Afterschool Rendezvous

                                                         >>>> Chapter 03 <<<<

                                                   + Afterschool Rendezvous +

     Second floor, left wing, near the life-sized portrait of Don Juan Meluna found at the main building - a few steps from it, covered in dark red tapestries, was the long-coveted passage towards the underground section of the school library.     

    The Archives is a piece of history hidden underneath the school, and held a multitude of other pieces of history all written a few hundred years ago when Don Juan Meluna said to have founded the country - our country, a constellation of three islands, found near the Earth’s belt. And the fact that I held in my hand an actual journal from one of Don Juan's friends, written 300 years ago, brought a sense of thrill, a sense of historical nostalgia of some sort. Ivy apologized before leaving me to fend for myself since she had to attend a practice session.

   Sigh.

   Once again I trekked the dim lit, dark hallway where the crying lady was said to roam after closing hours. The crying lady was one of the teachers who died during the early years of the school. But her death remains a mystery up to now. It was said that the crying lady's fiancé was a soldier and had died in the war. She committed suicide as soon as she had read the grim letter from her fiancé’s commanding officer. She slashed her wrist inside one of the really old classrooms in the main building. As to why she would haunt the hallway instead of the said room, is the real mystery. 

  Oh well. If she does make an appearance today, I'll just ask Yuuzel to accompany me until the stairway. I smiled to myself, remembering that faithful afternoon where I had accidentally walked into the passageway and had met Yuuzel and the Black Journal which I held in my arms. 

"Yuu?" I called out, tip-toeing towards the long table draped with scattered books and a single candle stick. It's light flickered and illuminated a small portion on the table.

    The ceiling of The Archives, was lined with candelabras, all a-glow, dangled atop rows and rows of bookshelves and bookcases. I numbly sat at an empty high-back chair and opened the Black Journal. Maybe Yuuzel wasn't on library duty today. I flipped through the black leather cover and through the first two pages towards the second entry dated, December 25th, yr. 1787, and two years apart from the first entry.

                                                                     …..

     The winter cold lashed about, outside the castle walls.

                                                                    …..

“Whoah”

    I paused. So the author was royalty? Don Juan was close to the Spanish monarch at that time. 

                                                                    ….. 

   Everywhere, there was nothing but darkness. Sometimes I doubt whether my eyes were actually open or if I was merely dreaming and had my eyes closed all the time. I had dreamt of Emeraldie. She was walking with a night lamp down the foyer of the cabin house.

   There were bell flowers, roses and tulips. I dreamt of the days when she played out in the village. Perhaps this was her way of telling me that I should no longer keep myself imprisoned in this old rotting castle.