Chapter One
Nightmares
The Count of Wildemere, Lord Kipston Redfield, seldom had a care in the world. The people adored him, he had three beautiful sisters, and he was a handsome man who could choose any bride he so desired. But the air throughout Wildemere had grown tense, and even he who sat high in his manor felt a sensation of dread lingering down his spine. Just a few days ago, a woman’s body had been found in plain sight, hung on a wooden cross in the center of the village like a horrific omen. The body discovered had been brutally mutilated; Lord Redfield would not even allow his eldest sister to bare witness to the limp ragdoll of a girl that had been found, stabbed to death. The count couldn’t even remember the last time a murder had occurred; the victim couldn’t have been more than eighteen. This incident seemed to remind him that life was a fragile, fleeting thing that could be robbed from you at any moment by the unseen. This was something he had forgotten, in his many days of carefree splendor. In order to continue his family’s legacy, he had to ensure that either himself or his eldest sister gave rise to an heir; what if something were to happen to him? And without husbands, his sisters would be left to fend for themselves. Such was unacceptable. This new determination rose within him like an obsession, and within the span of a few days, every eligible bachelor was on his way to court the most desired young woman in all of Wildemere. What they didn’t know, was that Lady Scarlet Abigail Redfield had already chosen a suitor for herself.
A bell jingled at the top of a door as it swung open and a young woman wandered inside. The maiden was tall and thin, with hair down to the small of her back that bore a deep red like the color of wine. Her skin, fair as early winter and perfect in complexion, framed green-blue eyes and plush, rosy lips. Even from across the room, she smelled of rich, imported fruits and a light breeze of vanilla. Wearing a dress of dark hues and a corset that tied firmly around her bust, she was adorned in full regal fashion: jewels around her neck, hanging from her ears, and a ring displaying the family seal of Redfield upon her left hand.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” Behind a counter, a man in much more modest attire was standing on a step-ladder, arranging glass bottles on a series of shelves. However, as he had turned to look upon his visitor the moment she had entered the room, his eyes lit up joyously. “How are you, Lady Redfield? Is all well?” The man on the ladder looked to be her brother’s age: well into his prime with just a few lines set in on his face. He was still handsome, though he wore a grizzled look most of the time, with messy hair and stubble set along the sides of his face from an uneven shave.
“Malken, please. How many times have I asked you to simply refer to me as, ‘Scarlet,’ mm?” Her words themselves carried just as much grace, entirely posh. As she approached the counter, her eyes scanned over the shop and all of its strange, material occupants: bottles, and vials, and liquids of all colors. There were remedies, and tonics, and wishes-in-a-jar: things you would see no where other than The Bottomless Cabinet. “You have been our family apothecary for how long, now?”
“Since I was just a young lad; you know that. Even before I opened up my shop. You were such a small thing, then. Still just as beautiful.” He climbed down from his step-ladder and faced her properly. “What brings you to my little hole, today? Have you come to gossip some more about your fifty-thousand suitors?”
“Not exactly- well, sort of. I came to take you up on your offer, before. About the serum.” As Scarlet spoke, Malken quirked an eyebrow and regarded her with distinct curiosity.
“I thought you didn’t believe in potions. Did something change your mind?” Malken stepped through the gate at the side of his counter and moved to a nearby shelf, scanning over the bottles.
“Well, you see…- I do not know, I just feel like I should give it a try. I do believe in you, you know. I will use the potion on the man I have chosen and shall see if it proves his heart to be true. Your remedies have never failed me, when I have fallen ill.”
Malken pulled a small, glass bottle from one of the shelves. The liquid within looked almost like water, although it had a slight peachy hue. “You want to make sure that the man you choose will love you for more than your wealth.” He set it on the counter beside her. “Your parents loved each other to the sky and back, I only want the same for you.”
“You have always looked after me, Malken. Things have been changing, all around me. I can feel it in the air. Suddenly, all of these new experiences…- in love, and otherwise.”
“Otherwise?” The man slipped back around to the other side of the counter, leaning his arms down against it as he looked upon her face.
“Well…- remind me to tell you about it, sometime. How do I use this?” She picked up the bottle, examining it.
“It’s simple. All you need to do is pour the whole bottle into his drink. After waiting at least sixty seconds, ask him if he loves you. If he is not sincere, he will find himself unable to say the words.”
“Oh, this is so exciting! Thank you, Malken. How much do you ask for the bottle?” Scarlet reached for her coinpurse, but the man urged her to still with a hand raised.
“Nonsense. Your father still pays me my dues, such things are included. Run along, now. Go and find your prince charming.” Scarlet beamed, carefully scooping up the bottle and tucking it down into a satchel. The two waved goodbye and she was on her way, eager to carry out her plans for a secret late-night rendezvous.
When it came time for dinner and the servants laid out the spread, Scarlet barely seemed excited by the decadent feast. Both her sisters were attending to an obligation at town hall, preparing for the annual Wildemere Faire. Scarlet had managed to avoid being on the committee this year, as her brother demanded that her search for a proper suitor take precedence.
“What’s the matter, Scarlet? Aren’t you going to eat?” As Lord Redfield made his inquiry, he reached for a nearby glass of dark liquor and indulged, as he often did.
The redheaded girl, who had been rolling a meatball around her plate with a fork, perked up and regarded her brother with a neutral expression. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”
Kipston licked his lips and gave a quiet sigh. “Yes, right. As you should. If you do not find a suitor soon, well…- I’m just going to have to select one for you.” Scarlet rolled her eyes. “Have you met with Raedin, yet? I know the Highlands were looking forward to it.”
“Raedin? You mean the boy from all those years ago? Didn’t you and Lady Highland have a falling out?” Finally, the young woman took a few bites of meat and noodle, washing them down with a cup of chilled tea.
“Broken fences are meant to be mended. You and Raedin used to play often, did you not? Perhaps the two of you would find yourselves a good fit. I shall arrange to send them a note through the post.”
“No, don’t do that.” Scarlet’s words, sounding rather abrupt, startled her elder sibling. She took time to carefully choose her following, as to not cause further alarm. “Nobody wishes to come to Wildemere, right now. Not since…, the incident. Give it another week or two until this all blows over. The mood has been outright ghastly.”
“Yes…, I suppose you’re right. Besides, I am going away for business, tonight. I will be back in just a few days.” Lord Redfield dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a napkin and gave a hearty sigh.
“Leaving in the middle of the night? What sort of business requires you to do such a thing?” Scarlet, no longer wishing to eat anything else, motioned over one of the staff with a hand and had them clear her dishes away.
“You are not the only one trying to find a proper suitor. I too need to settle down and improve our ties. I am meeting with a fine lady from Silburg midday tomorrow. The Baroness, Lady Valance.”
“And have you met with her before?” For a brief moment, Scarlet looked to the clock on the wall behind her brother. While she did find their conversation somewhat interesting, she was counting the minutes until her plan would swing into motion.
“I have not. We have had a correspondence through the post, but this shall be our first meeting.” Lord Redfield rose from his chair, running his hands over his blazer for a moment. He was such a handsome man, and Scarlet knew he would have no trouble finding a companion if he could simply stop being so particular. “Nevertheless, I must prepare.” He looked to one of the staff and nodded at him. “Have the stablehand bring around the horses.” Stepping around the lengthy table, he set a hand on his younger sibling's shoulder. “And stay out of trouble, will you? I know you like going on adventures when I’m not here, but that’s terribly unfair, as I should prefer to come along with you.”
Scarlet flashed a bright smile at her brother and set a hand on top of his briefly. “I’ll behave, brother. Go along, now. Perhaps I will have selected a suitor by the time you return.”
“That’s the spirit!” Pulling from her, Lord Redfield made his way down the hall and into his room to ready his various suitcases. Scarlet, rising from the table and making her down the hall, found herself startled at the appearance of her youngest sibling.
“Oh- hello, Lilli. Are you two finished already?” Lillian Redfield, with her long, auburn hair and perfectly peachy skin, looked to her elder sister with sapphire eyes that looked to be filled with fear. Just a few years younger than Scarlet, she in herself was an exemplar of beauty, even with such an expression.
“I’m rather unsettled, Scarly. Melathine and I were at the fairgrounds when this strange man appeared and started talking about…, the incident.” Lillian hung up on her coat on a rack, dusting off her long dress beneath. “Started talking about, ‘black magic.’ You don’t believe in such a thing, do you? He started flailing and yelling about, saying that Wildemere is cursed.”
“Oh, what nonsense. Wildemere is not cursed. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” For a moment, Scarlet wondered about the notion of magic being involved in the incident. However, she quickly dismissed it, and smoothed her hands over her own dress. “They’ll find whoever did it and hang them. Such is not our concern. Make sure the faire goes off without a hitch, or the townsfolk will be sorely disappointed.”
“Yes, of course. I’d rather like to retire now.” With a courteous nod, Lillian made her way upstairs and left Scarlet to follow behind and return to her own room.
Hours after sunset, after every last servant and member of the household had given in to sleep, Scarlet crept out of her bed in her black, silk dressing gown and made her way down several flights of stairs. Once she had made it to the ground floor, she ran in haste down the halls and out the back, making her way down the paved road and towards the gardens. When she approached the labyrinth of hedges that she had so feared getting lost in when she was a child, she reveled in her excitement. What was once a maze to her was now a clever hiding place for those who knew exactly how to navigate it in the dark. Running barefoot through the grass, lantern in hand, she darted around corners and flew down corridors, making twists, and turns, and finding hidden routes. Eventually, Scarlet found herself at a circular clearing, and her lord was there, waiting for her in the center.
A blanket was spread out across the grass, the area lit with candles sitting upon saucers. There was a basket with bread, and cheese, and wine- set out in a simple, yet elegant display. Oh how she swooned at his romanticism. She needed him to be sincere; she needed to know this wasn’t too good to be true. The man sitting upon the blanket was wearing slacks and a black dress-shirt, with the topmost buttons unhooked and leaving part of his bare chest exposed. His hair, black like night, was somewhat long; he had an unconventional look for nobility, but then again, he was on a lower end of the hierarchy than she. Scarlet did not care, not one bit. This man made her knees weak.
“Brennan.” She dashed to him quickly, falling to her knees as she embraced him as if she hadn’t seen him in ages. Wordlessly, he pulled her head back with a gentle firmness and pressed his lips against hers with wanton need; over, and over, and over, until suddenly, he pulled from her and she found herself breathless, as if she had lost her source of oxygen.
“When are you going to tell your brother of us, so I no longer have to hide my feelings, mm? Don’t get me wrong, I love our late night visits…” He grinned a sheepish grin and placed his hands on her slender sides, kneading his thumbs into her. Scarlet couldn’t help but grow flustered already, just feeling his hands on her. “...But I wish to court you properly.”
“If all goes well, I should be telling him very soon.” Out of the corner of her eye, the redhead eyed the bottle of wine and nearby glasses. “You know how he is. He wants me to settle for the best.”
“Am I not the best?” He looked to her with feigned dismay, flashing a broad and playful smile.
“I didn’t mean it like that. He’d marry me off to some duke or something if he had his way. But you are plenty enough man for me. All the man that I need. In the end, it should be my choice.”
“And how are your studies coming along, then? Have you tried any new spells? Further exploration of the catacombs? I’m jealous, you know. I wish my family’s history included a coven of witches and cultists. ”
“Cultists is a strong word; there’s nothing to indicate that they were using magic for no-good. Perhaps they used it to help the apothecary in his remedy brewing. You wouldn’t believe how much material is down there. Books, upon books, upon books. I even found my own mother’s grimoire- not that I understand much of it. I’ve only really tried the basics…; I can’t believe my family has been involved in this stuff for so many years and I hadn’t the slightest idea about it until just weeks ago. I have enough reagents down there to conjure up any sort of disaster. I am exercising caution, I promise.”
“Will you show me, Scarlet? Not now, but another night, in the catacombs. I want to see the rebirth of magic firsthand; if you believe in such a thing. Maybe you’ve already bewitched me.” He set a hand upon the side of her face, running his thumb ever so lightly upon her rosy lips. “If we will be wed, one day…- I want to be a part of all your secrets.”
His words struck a chord with her. Was she doing the right thing, slipping him Malken’s potion? It was too late to question herself, now. She had to be sure. “Even if I turn into a witch?” She pressed the palm of her hand to the side of his face, which he kissed with a gentle grace.
“Especially if you turn into a witch. Being completely normal is nothing but a drag. Of course, you’re already extraordinary enough as it is, magic or no magic.”
For a moment, Scarlet thought back to the words of her sister, earlier. Could the incident really have been related to witchcraft? “Hey, you don’t think that-...”
Brennan raised an eyebrow, giving a soft, ‘hm?’ in reply.
“Hold that thought.” She flashed a coy smile and pulled from him, moving over to the basket and facing her back towards him. “I’m going to pour us some wine.” Waiting in silence, the man called Brennan gazed up at the sky as Scarlet gathered two glasses and poured from the already opened bottle. With expert subtlety, she reached down into a crevice within her dressing gown, pulled out the small potion bottle, and poured its contents into one of the glasses before stuffing the empty bottle back into her pocket. “Here we are, then.” Turning back around, she handed the glass laced with the potion to her companion, while taking the other glass and drinking from it immediately, almost as if to encourage him to do the same. And so he did: he raised the rim of the glass to his lips and gave a series of sips.
“The wine tastes even better than usual. Everything that comes from the winery down in Silburg is absolutely fantastic.” And so Scarlet began her wait, sipping from her glass and drinking just enough to make her head feel the slightest bit fuzzy so she’d be able to relax. After a few moments, she slipped over to Brennan and sat in his lap, facing him. As if to show his approval, he pulled her in by the waist and ran his hands up and down her sides.
“You are the most beautiful creature in the world, you know that?” He brushed the hair away from her neck so it’d fall to her back, bringing his head down to kiss at her tender flesh there. “Never have I felt this way before. Like I’d simply die without you in my arms.”
Scarlet trembled slightly and pulled back enough to set her eyes upon his face. “Bren, look at me.” And so his brown eyes set upon her, eager to obey his muse. “Please, I need to…, I need to ask you something: something important..”
“What is it?” Gently, he wrapped a hand around the side of her face and stroked at her cheek with his thumb.
“Bren, do you love me?” As she spoke her question, she felt as if her heart might stop.
“Yes.” His answer was instantaneous. “Of course I love you, Scarlet. I have for the longest time.” He leaned in to kiss her again, a tender, earnest sweep of her lips before he moved to whisper in her ear. “I love you so much…- everything about you.” He kissed beneath her earlobe, and she shuddered with delight. She could feel herself swooning; her entire body felt hot. “I love the way you look at me…” He kissed the very top of her neck. “The way your voice soothes and inspires me all at once…,” and then a bit lower. “I love your smile, and your generosity, and your passion.” He continued kissing along the side of her neck, leaving her as nothing more than putty in his hands, trembling like a leaf.
“Bren, please…” She gasped the words out like a desperate plea.
“Please, what?” He kept kissing at her neck, wrapping his lips around that sensitive flesh and suckling on it gently. He pulled to speak, the warmth of his breath dancing along her skin. “Scarlet, you’re shaking…”
“I’ll tell him as soon as he returns from his trip; he’s left for Silburg to meet with a potential suitor. I’ll tell Kip everything, and then we can be wed, and be together whenever we so wish.” She ran her fingers through his hair, encouraging him as he pressed his lips down to her collarbone, parting her dressing gown just slightly to reveal the tops of her shoulders.
“I can’t wait to make you my wife. I want to make you mine. The world will know that the most precious woman alive belongs to me.”
“I am already yours.” Still Scarlet trembled, hazy and flustered from her wine and from the way he was touching her. There was no fight in her. The young woman, now of age and grown into her body, would give herself to the man that she loved without question.
“You have been in my bed before, and yet still you shake as if you have been untouched by me.” He laid her down on the blanket, hovering over her as Scarlet’s hands undid the remaining buttons on his shirt. She slid it from him, leaving his torso completely bare. He wasn’t very tanned: his skin fair, like hers. And while he wasn’t the most muscular, he was lean, and strong. The redhead thought her lover’s body to be divine: made just for her. They fit together in the most perfect of ways.
“Brennan…” Her eyes, watering, looked up at her nearly-betrothed. He kissed at the corners of her eyes, wiping away her tears and then finding her lips once again. Scarlet kissed him for what felt like hours, until she pulled from his mouth and whispered to him. “Please, stay with me, tonight. Right here.”
“You couldn’t make me leave if you tried.”
Finding herself in the center of town, basket in hand, Scarlet perused the various street vendors of Wildemere and examined their wares. She picked up various fruits, a loaf of bread, and fresh vegetables. Perhaps she’d have the cook made something extra special, tonight. However, the sun was setting, and quicker than she had anticipated.
“That’s odd…- I could have sworn it was still early in the afternoon. Have I really been gone that long? Say, do you have the-” She turned around to look for one of the townsfolk behind her, and yet for some reason, the streets appeared to be deserted. Feeling unsettled, Scarlet hurried along the road, but what she stumbled upon made her eyes widen in disbelief. A scream was heard; a woman had been tied up upon a large wooden beam by a robed assailant, who was now holding a hefty carving blade. Feeling panic course through her entire body, Scarlet knew she had to have found the killer. She wanted to yell, wanted to do something, to get help. Yet somehow, she was frozen in fear, her voice locked away and her feet glued to the road. Over and over again, the woman screamed in agony as the knife cut through her skin and gutted her, blood splaying out over everything in sight. Until finally, the young Lady Redfield could take no more, and snapped.
“Scarlet!” Brennan held to his beloved as she screamed and rocked upon the blanket, the woman curling into him and sobbing hysterically. “Scarlet, it’s me, it’s just me. Please, don’t cry. It’s okay- shhh…”
“Brennan…” Burying her head into his chest, she trembled in his hold, entirely shook up.
“It must have just been a nightmare. Everything is going to be alright.” His voice, while soothing to her, was unable to completely calm her rattled nerves. However, as he quietly hummed at her and ran his hand through her hair, her muscles grew less tense and she managed to quiet her little sobs.
“Oh, Bren, it was horrible. How could I have dreamed such a dreadful thing…”
“Don’t think about it anymore, alright? It’s over. I’m here now.” His voice trailed just a little, he was still so very tired. As he drifted back into slumber, Scarlet simply clung to him in her need, knowing she would be unable to fall back asleep.
After the sun had risen and the two lovers had parted ways, Scarlet returned inside to ready herself for her day and partake in breakfast. Once her sisters had left to the staging grounds of the faire-in-progress, she made her way back into town, and once again found herself at The Bottomless Cabinet.
As that familiar bell gave its metallic ring and Lady Redfield made her way inside, she was greeted by Malken, who was cleaning off his counter-space with a rag. “There you are! How’d it go, m’lady? Did you find out what you needed to know?” The man looked to be in high spirits, as he usually was. He was dressed in a tailored, crisp white shirt, covered with a dark gray vest and matching slacks. The chain of a silver pocket watch hung from his breast, marking his distinguished stature, despite his profession.
“Oh, yes…” Her voice trailed a bit as she gave a dreamy sigh. “It was perfect, Malken. I’ve finally found the one.” Scarlet smiled, but the apothecary could tell that something was amiss.
“Then, if it went so well, why do I get the feeling that something went wrong?” The man came around the side of the counter, moving to put a hand on the young Redfield’s shoulder, which startled her to some degree as her eyes snapped at him.
“I-..., well, I had an awful dream. The most awful dream I’ve ever had. But it was just a dream, after all. The sooner I shake it, the better. Such is why I wanted to come down here first thing; I just had to thank you! Because of you, I no longer have any doubts.” She allowed him to rub at her shoulder in his attempt to comfort her, managing a polite smile. “And I also…, wanted to ask you something.”
“If you get to ask me something, I would also like to ask you something.” Malken retracted his hand, stepping around and back towards a shelf, which he then began to scan over. “Only fair, right?”
“Of course, yes. What is it?” Scarlet pulled up a nearby stool, taking a seat as graceful as she could muster in her elegant attire.
“Yesterday, you said that you had new experiences to revel in: both in love and otherwise. What did you mean by, ‘otherwise’? Have you taken up a new hobby? Forgive my curiosity, I’ve simply always enjoyed your adventurous stories.”
The redheaded woman gave a soft sigh, inclining her head. “I miss the days would we would sit out in the garden and just talk for hours. I was such a curious child. Nevertheless, what you just asked me coincides with what I was going to ask you. In your days of serving my family, have you ever noticed anything…, strange? Anything that didn’t make sense to you, or seemed suspicious?”
“Suspicious? Your family? No, can’t say that I have. The Redfields have always been the most upstanding lot of citizens. If it wasn’t for them, Wildemere would not be as it is today. Did you discover something?” As he asked the inevitable question, Scarlet hesitated. But she knew that she could trust Malken, and so she began to divulge.
“Not entirely too long ago…, I was cleaning out the library, when I discovered a hidden passageway. Now, I know that the architects of the older buildings included these sorts of things; terribly overdone, really. But this was one that I had not previously found on my adventures. It led into the catacombs, but not a part that I had explored before; it was an entirely separate series of tunnels.” Malken listened, looking highly intrigued. “At first I thought that I was traveling in circles, and then I simply found myself lost. But eventually, I figured out how to navigate them and found some sort of…- well, another library.”
“Another library, filled with books? I know the Redfields do have an affinity for literature. Not too surprising.”
“Not just any books, though. These books are…, different. They’re about, well.” She paused for a moment, causing the man to raise an eyebrow. “Magic.”
“Magic? Potion brewing, like my own craft? Or of some other sort? Did it talk of old natural magics, or of the outdated belief in the divine?”
“Witchcraft.” As Scarlet spoke the word, she felt herself shudder. “Like in the olden days, so say the stories and myths.”
Malken, wide-eyed, seemed lost to his thoughts for a moment, until they unloaded from his lips. “Witchcraft? Are you absolutely sure? They’re not just-..., stories? Did you find the old remnants of a coven’s meeting ground? I wonder if the Redfields even knew of it, or if it’s from the past…- don’t tell me you’ve been using those books and messing around! Such things are a sin against nature to even attempt!”
For a moment, Scarlet could hear Malken’s age rising to the surface as he spoke. He sounded like an old man, even though he was only in his late thirties. Not to mention, she certainly didn’t care for listening to his voice raise. “No, no! Nothing like that!” She lied. “I have only just been intrigued and I’ve spent a lot of time reading. I think that they knew about it, I found a book that had notes in it written by my mother. Please, do not tell anyone I told you about this.”
“I would never break your confidence, m’lady. But this is troubling news, indeed. Does anyone else know about this?”
Scarlet hesitated, but tried her best not to make that too apparent. “...No, you’re the first person I’ve told.” Another lie, but he didn’t seem to question it.
“Promise me, Scarlet. Promise me you will stay far away from those catacombs.” Malken set both hands on her shoulders this time, as if to stand firm in his point. “I will not see you get any deeper into this. It could be disastrous. Do you understand me? You can count on me to get to the bottom of it.”
“Oh, thank you, Malken. I knew I could count on you. If you are going to investigate, I shall stay away from all of it until you have a better understanding of what we’re dealing with. Surely you know much more about this than I.”
“Promise?” He cupped her cheek with a hand and stroked his thumb against her tender, fair skin.
“Yes…, I promise.” The noblewoman flashed another pristine smile. Of course, Scarlet had no intention of keeping that promise, but she had been able to confide in her friend and manage to still ease his mind. “Now, I’m going to go for a walk before I make my way back. Thank you, again, for looking out for me.”
“I will always look out for you, Lady Redfield. It is my duty, and aside from that, you are my dearest friend.” He released her, nodding matter-of-factly.
The redhead couldn’t help but chuckle. “When are you going to stop being so formal and call me by my name? Nevermind it, I’m off.” Sliding from the stool, she made her way outside, closing the shop door gently behind her without even a wave.
As Malken made his way back behind the counter, he began to talk to himself. “The girl is stubborn, wild, and forcing her way into her own. Luckily, she’s going to do the exact opposite of whatever she’s told.” The man gave a smirk, polishing a glass and giving the lightest of laughs. “And when she does, she will surely turn to me.”
Scarlet Redfield made her way down busy streets, forgetting all about her ghastly dream and instead fantasizing about married life with her Brennan. She couldn’t wait for her brother to return from Silburg, so she might finally tell him the good news. Surely, he would not be overly thrilled by her suitor’s social status, but perhaps he would be happy enough to let that aside and allow her to be wed. After all, she was no princess. She was the younger sister of a count, and that was that. Lost in daydreams, she gathered flowers from various carts, until all of a sudden, she felt a familiar sense of dread and deja vu. The young woman could almost feel a sinister chill in the air, and once again those bustling streets grew eerily quiet, and deserted. As a lump seemed to form deep within her throat, she felt the presence of someone behind her.
Turning, Scarlet dropped her flowers to the ground as she found the robed figure, standing there, holding that knife that had been soaked in blood. As pools of crimson dripped to the ground and the maiden stood frozen in her horror, the murderous villain raised a hand and lifted their hood to reveal their identity to her. Staring at that face in her panic, Scarlet made a horrible, gut-wrenching realization. She was looking upon herself.
Gasping with a violent lurch, Scarlet jerked out of bed and thrashed her blankets about, hyperventilating and shaking through her core. So deeply disturbed by her nightmare, she lit a candle and carried it hastily down the hall, down two flights of stairs, until finding herself at the library. She went to the fireplace and trailed a bare hand along a few bricks, finding a small indent in one of them and using it to move the stone backwards not but a few inches. The back of the fireplace, which had been positioned there as a facade, parted slowly to reveal a hidden passageway that was large enough for someone to walk through. After removing the metal cover at the front of it and then replacing it once she was on the other side, she raced through the corridor, down the tunnels she had marked with torches to guide her way on her visits, and made her way for the forbidden trove of magical treasures that had been waiting for her beneath.
Her new playground was before her: a cavernous chamber lined with bookshelves and crafting tables. At the center of the circular chamber was a runic circle, marked with strange symbols and surrounded with groups of flickering candles. Perusing through one of the bookshelves, Scarlet skimmed over the bindings of various tomes with a finger, seeming to look for something particular. Eventually, she removed a single book entitled, ‘Nighttime Remedies.’ The young woman sat the book down on the table and blew on it to remove a thick layer of dust, gingerly opening the massive manual and turning its pages. Once she had found the page she had desired, she skimmed over it with a manicured nail and found herself beaming.
“There, this should do it.” She looked over a line and read it aloud. “When ailed with frightful sleep, a sweet-dream spell is what you need.” The page was painted with pictures of beautiful pastures and gentle clouds. Looking over to a nearby pantry, she opened up the creaky wooden doors and pulled out a single, white candle. Using the candle she had brought with her from the house, she lit the new one and brought it with her to the circle at the center of the chamber. Kneeling, Scarlet placed the candle in front of her and positioned her hands a few inches above the flame, keeping them connected in a triangular shape.
“Alright…, here we go.” As the tome had further instructed her, she began to think of the happiest thoughts she could muster. She thought of vacation days on the countryside, of rendezvous with Brennan, and visiting the orchards in wine country. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled with a few soft words, which seemed to disappear into a whisper.
“Sonmos ihim ainmos non irediv.”
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