Dedicated to my friends for persuading me write again, I reworked this chapter.
“ Abide with thee longer fair maiden! Yourself is as beautiful as the sunset on yonder hills of York. May I ask who art thou?”
“I beg thy pardon, but I must go.” The woman stared at the man with sullen look in her eyes. Clearly she didn’t want to be around this man.
“ Fair maiden! Canst thou stay longer?” The man pleaded with the woman, awestruck by her beauty, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He outstretched his long arm and grabbed on to her arm. The woman shrieked in terror and slapped the man.
“ Filthy peasant! I haveth no wish to be with you any longer than I have. Get thyself off of me!”
“ Please fair maiden , alloweth me to tell thyself of who I am. I am Matteo Scottsmore, son of Willis Scottsmore and Lady Alice . I am honoured to meet such maiden as thou!”
“Well Matteo, I am Amethyst Mystérieux.” The buxom beauty stared into the soul of the man.
“Amethyst, when may I see thou again?”
Amethyst sighed, and looked at Matteo . Her beautiful dress swept the ground. The silver designs on her dress shimmered the late August sun. She slowly streached her hand out until it fell on to Matteo’s right cheek. She lifted his face towards her own , and stared into his grayish blue eyes. Matteo was mesmerized by her own grayish blue eyes, for they had also and hint of hazel in them. Amethyst then took her left hand and stroked his dark hazel hair. She took one more breath before sighing once again.
“ Mortal , I am not like thee." She said with a bewitching smile.
“A-Amethyst? What do ye mean?”
With that being said Amethyst let go of Matteo’s face , turned, and ran away. Matteo was powerless , he couldn’t do anything. All he could do was yell her name over and over. He cried her name so much that the townsfolk started to look at him in strange way. Matteo couldn’t move, he was paralyzed by her beauty. He had never seen a person or creature more beautiful than that young lady. Matteo couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever see her again, or what did she mean when she said ‘ Mortal, I am not like thee.’ All that thinking made him cry , for he couldn’t stop thinking of her. Clouds formed in the sky, and it started to rain, nevertheless Matteo just sat down in the market where he had first saw Amethyst. Night came and Matteo still had not moved.
“ Matteo. . . Matteo . . .” A voice echoed in the distance, it grew louder each time it called out Matteo.
“ Yes? Who doeth call me?”
A figure wearing a black cloak appeared in the distance. Matteo could see that under the cloak was the same silver patterning on Amethyst dress. When he realized this he instantly stood up and ran to the figure.
“ Matteo, thee are still in this market , why?
“ Amethyst , I haveth never seen such a beautiful maiden." His face was bright red and his ears burned.
“ Matteo . . . I will not love thee for I am only interested in the wealthy such as myself.”
“ T-that is not a problem. I wilt work until I am rich .”
“ I also only love people with Hazel hair and grayish blue eyes.”
“ Fair maiden, art thou blind? I have dark hazel hair and grayish blue eyes!” He stared into her own pair of grayish blue eyes. Their eyes locked and while he was not sure of what she was feeling at the moment , he knew that somehow this girl would forever change his life, and the lives of his descendants. Amethyst took a long deep breath and sighed . Her purple lipstick seemed to glow as she tried to form the words to say.
“ You're making this hard for me. There is one thing thou cannot say that thou is. Thou is not a Warlock.”
“What?” Matteo’s face froze.
“ Matteo . . . I am a witch . I am from the clan of Noir-Mystérieux. Although I can love a mortal alas I prefer not to and even if I were to" she paused "thou aren't worthy enough for me.”
“ Amethyst. . .Am-“
* * * * * *
“Milla! What are you reading honey?”
“Oh. . . Hi mommy ! A-a story . It's cool ! As I read the words I can see what is happened.” The girl gazed into her mother’s eyes. She was engulfed in the feelings of admiration for she loved those pure blue eyes. They were eyes that would never lie or deceive her—or so she thought— and they were very beautiful, comparable to the fjords of the homeland.
“Dear, let me see that please.” With that said the girl delicately handed her mother the book. The book was black, pitch black like water tainted with charcoal. In the middle of the front cover was golden letters. The letters almost looked like pure gold bars. The words on the cover said ‘Lang May Yer Lum Reek.’ Unbeknownst those same words would come to play a huge role in the little girl’s life. The cover of the book was beautifully crafted as the corners of the book donned golden harebell flowers with tiny letters around them. The letters, which were in beautiful calligraphy spelled out LIFE, with the L being on the top left corner, the I on the top right, the F on the lower left and the E on the lower right. The book seemed enchanted, and almost magical under the moonlight of the full moon
The mother stared at the book. Her hands trembled and her eyes grew big. Then, she did something unpredictable. She let out such a blood curdling scream and flung the book at the mahogany door, which was five meters in front of her. The book hit the door and somehow ricocheted, hitting her. It was as if the book had a life of its own, for there was no logical possibility that such a frail book could act like a boomerang. It took several seconds before the mother could process her thoughts, and when she did. . . Things were taken to a whole new level. She snapped, she went crazy and the daughter , who had no idea why cowered in fear. She looked at her daughter dead in the eye and in hurried manner she slapped the confused five-year -old on the cheek. The daughter was at a lost for words and stuttering from the pain, moaning out broken words questing the situation. "Mama…. Why? Mama?!” But all the mother could say to her were the taunting words, ‘Wuo Biada’ –which roughly translates to ‘Great misfortune’–over and over again while pointing to the girl. It was like she was possessed, a different person and something about that book made her that way, as if there was a secret hidden between the pages. Whether it was for the best or for the worst, the daughter did not know a word of the old tongue so she could not understand what her mother was saying, but one thing was for sure, she was scarred for life.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The girl slowly opened her eyes, the sunlight shone it’s ironically cheerful beams into the dark gloomy room. It's always the same she thought , every time I sleep, my dreams remind me of that day, the day, or more like the year I stopped showing my love for her. After that event, she went back to normal, or it was like she never changed, but I noticed something suspicious about her... She was different. If I did something she had not anticipated, she would get very scared, and fidget a lot. Sometimes she would even lock me inside my room for a period of time and not say why. Tears well up in her eyes as she recounts the events that took place of a course of eight years. Those things only happened when it was just us two alone, which is why no one probably noticed a thing, she reassured herself. Pondering on her past, she remembers one detail that to this day still puzzles her. Despite her mother isolating her and acting odd around her, last year, it suddenly all stopped. This time her mother really did return to normal it seemed. Her mother no longer isolated her, she even tried to make conversation with her daughter. No longer did the mother act nice towards her when her brother and father were around, but instead she was nice to her daughter all the time, as if it was supposed to erase the pain of the past 9 years. It was like the switch that had been turned on 10 years ago was suddenly turned off. Although her family has been seemingly normal for the past year, she has made no efforts to reconnect with them. She was never close to her father to begin with, and neither was she going to forgive her mother so easily, throughout the years , her twin brother was her only ally. A smile crept onto her face I’m about to get another ally it seems ! she giggled. Her mother was in labour last night and her father had told her that by the time she was awake in morning, she would have another brother.
Excited, she lifts the covers above her. And jumps out of bed It's cold. The coldness nips at her feeble hollow cheeks and then she knew there was something ominous going on. Although she lives in an old castle, the coldness never got inside, it was always very warm. Her father would personally go around and light each fire place every morning and evening, despite the fact that they had numerous servants that could do the job. For some reason , the fire place in her room was not lit today. Odd.. Where’s dad? Is he still with mom? Slowly and cautiously she made her way to the door. Before she could open the door it swung open, hitting her in the head and cheerful face busted inside.
“MATTEO!” Bursting through the wooden door, made of fine mahogany, was Matteo, her twin brother. A sudden rush of annoyance surged through her veins, as she rubbed her face.
“Wait. Milla. You have something on your face,” Matteo couldn’t hold back the laughter; he squealed and snorted as the laugher slowly built up.
“What is it…? What’s on my face?” Still rubbing her face, Milla pursed her lips and eyed him intensely.
“Oh you know… nothing, just the fact that you kind of have a door face.”
“A-a What?”
“You,” he snickered, “have the imprint of your door on your face.” His snickers were upgraded to full blown laughter to Milla’s, dismay.
“You scared me! I thought... Argh come here you!" Milla playful punched Matteo on the arm. Matteo glowed bright red as he held his breath from his silent laughter. “I swear one day I’m going to kill you!”
“Be careful of what you say young door face.” He stuck his tongue out at Milla and turned to run, but he wasn’t fast enough for her lightning fast reflexes. She put her foot out in the way causing Matteo to taste the unpleasant taste of defeat. Proudly she sat on top of his back.
“Now, what were you saying oh great carpet burn?” She gleefully taunted him, laughing with her face to the ceiling, as if she conquered him.
“Ha-ha very funny. Get off.” Matteo joined into the laughter and after a few minutes hearty giggles, Milla finally got off and the twins stand to leave the room.
“Good morning children.” A tall figure stood in the door way. His facial expression matched his suit, dark and wrinkled.
“What’s up with your appearance dad?” Matteo analyzed his father’s suit, then his wild looking hair and 5’o clock shadow.
“Yeah ... And any news of the baby?” Milla, was curious about what happened to her father but even more curious about her new sibling. As the words left Milla’s mouth her father’s expression wrinkled deeper. He let out a sigh and time seemed to move in slow motion.
“This is not the type of news that you’d want to hear but, they’re gone.”
“Gone..? What do you mean gone?” Milla’s mouth dropped wide open, and she glanced to Matteo whose eyes were already turning red from the tears building up in his eyes.
“I mean that… God dammit, they’re dead.” There was a stifling silence in the room. The father places his hands on his children’s head. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say it like that, just...”
“No, father. It’s fine.” Milla brushed her father’s hand away. “You’re hurt too, we understand that.” Milla looked up to her father and hugged him.
“Agreed.” Matteo also hugged his father in response, and the family shared a quiet moment together. After a while the father broke away from the hug.
“I’m going to go arrange some things, spend some time alone.” With that said the father turned and walked towards his room, on the other side of the long hallway.
“You go do that.” Milla said closing her door. Everything was still, and strained, the unbearable silence brought the realization that their mother was really gone, never to return. Matteo began to buckle under pressure.
"I-I'm sorry... I'll just be ..." Matteo breaks down in sobs, slumping against the door.
“Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong. Just cry.” Milla showed no emotion, no sadness or even relief. She was not sure what she should feel for her mother’s death, but she was sure she was just a little bit sad of her brother’s death. Milla was used to not showing emotion unlike her brother who often cried and was not emotionally sound 70% of the time. This must be some type of trick or curse, from whoever is pulling the strings behind this mess, Milla thought. It was as if Matteo’s emotionality was contagious as for the first time in 10 years, Milla had began to feel sorry for her mother. She began to wonder how life would’ve been if she had forgiven her mother before she died. Kneeling beside him she wraps him in a comforting hug, holding back her surprising tears for her mother. "It's okay now." She whispers. "It's okay."