Burn the Ashes [DISCONTINUED]

= Ch 1: Baron Manor =

I used to think a man would crawl through the crack in my window and stab me. I tried patching the broken pane in every way possible. Tape didn't work. Pasting fabric over the thin gap did nothing. When my options had exhausted themselves, I gave in and asked Father for a new window. He shrugged me off the first time, but I begged and pestered him, telling him about the rain, the bugs, and, finally, the sounds I heard at night. He squinted at me, sighed, and took one more swig of brandy, leaving silence to answer my childish pleas.

Of course, no one's ever outside the window. The only things that can climb three stories high are the vines, and they've already conquered this side of the house. A few years ago, one vine ventured so far as to poke through the crack. I trim it at the start of every summer, but by fall, it always sneaks a leaf through. The beastly man of the night scratches and claws at the window sill, a murderous spirit slinking its oily hands through the crack, but every time I investigate, only the vine greets me. Nothing else will ever be there. I know that. But I can't stop checking. I can't help it. The fear's always there.

This is why I, hunched in the corner of my room, haven't gotten a wink of sleep as morning's first rays strike my window. The sun should be a sign of safety. Instead, I feel nothing but exhaustion, thinking about the day ahead of me. I'm about to stand up when someone knocks at my door.

"Hey! Are you up yet?"

"Yes," I mumble.

Something must show in my voice because without any warning, the door flies open.

"Momo, don't burst in like that!"

The young girl peers around the door. "What?" Then, her eyes drift to the knife in my hand. A sad shadow flits across her young face. She sits on the ground, smoothing her skirt. "...Oh. One of those nights again?"

I grumble, slumping back into my corner. "I'll be ok." The tension refuses to leave my shoulders.

Her ginger hair drifts into her face as she looks down. Still, a smile lights her face. "Alright. Breakfast is ready."

"Thank you." I fold my penknife. "We should get going."

I wait for her to stand. She doesn't. In dead silence, both of us sitting on the floor of my messy room. I fiddle with the closed knife, looking at anything but Momo.

"I'll meet you downstairs," I hint.

"Come on, Cad. Whatcha thinking?"

I rub a hand on my forehead. It feels numb. "Nothing. Just have a lesson later today."

"When? Who? Are you nervous?"

"Not exactly. Noon or so."

"Who? Is it Isaias?"

"No, no. It's Johnny Logger, just down the road."

"Just down the road — he's across town!"

"I don't mind the walk." I tilt my head back, shutting my eyes, but she won't leave.

"What's he learning?" She leans in, fascinated.

Bless her heart; I answer. "He's... learning how to dual wield."

"Oh?? Can you?"

I open my eyes, finding myself quite cornered. What am I going to do, kick her out of my room? Of course not. So, I keep talking. "Sorta. But it's a pointless technique, if you ask me. It's much better to have half defense and half offense."

"And if you don't?"

"One hit and you're down." I push myself to my feet, giving my best smile. "Anyways, I'm a righty. My left hand's not exactly professionally trained."