Young Writers Society

“Yes my lord, it shall be done.” A youths voice echoed through the hall, disturbing the musky stillness. A sleepy girl wandered over to her fathers chair and sat on his lap while cold, grey eyes stared at the young man before them.

The young man bowed politely and carefully avoided looking at the nightgown clad girl, knowing that if he ever mentioned the fact that he may have seen one of his lords beloved daughters, the words would be worth more than his life.

“Isobelle, return to your rooms. You know I dislike you wandering around the halls at night.” The large man muttered as the youth left the hall, his voice a gravelly rumble in the night.

“But papa, it is so dull in my rooms.” Whined the girl on his knee.

“Do you not have free roam of the halls during the day? You know that in the moonlight the halls are forbidden.”

“But they are not in the moonlight, see?” she pointed at the lone burning candle, a dim, flickering light in the darkness.

“Go to your rooms.” He ordered, his voice brooking no opposition and she hastily slid off his knee and fled through the musty darkness, dodging the odd, careless servant.

“Eleanore.” The word was wearily sighed and the resignation in the voice shivered in the air.

“Yes papa?” said a quiet voice from the shadows.

“Follow your sister.”

“No papa.”

The large man wearily closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead before groaning “Will you not fight me this one night?”

“I would not fight you if you did not expect me to.” Came the calm reply, though it had an iron purpose behind the words.

“Child, you know what stalks these halls, you of all people should know that it is not wise to wander Gwynleth Hall alone.”

“Then why did you send dearest Isobelle off on her own then? And don’t call me child. I am not a child.”

“Would you have the innocence Isobelle so naively squanders, or the knowledge you now hold?” he asked in a mournful challenge, his cold eyes softened by despair as he gazed into a darkened corner, watching the shadows move.

“I would rather face what stalks you and Gwynleth Hall than be burdened with my twins ignorance. You know that papa.” Eleanore said softly, stepping into the faint glow cast by the single candle, causing the flame to flicker slightly before growing brighter.

The man in the chair sighed, knowing that he would not convince his favourite daughter on this night to leave as he had not on all the other nights of her life since she could walk. “Eleanore…I would not have you physically scarred from my ill doing.” He pleaded in a final effort to get her to leave.

The candlelight reflected off a smile that was too bitter to be on such a childs face. “You know as well as I that I cannot escape your ill doing, were such an escape possible for either of us.”

He sighed one final time before bidding her to sit on his lap, a small spot of warmth and light in the endless cold night of his meagre existence. Running his fingers through her raven hair he smiled softly, dimly hearing the wailing of the halls as what stalked them screamed closer to the two souls aware of its foul presence, but ignoring it as if it were of no moment. “How could I have two beautiful daughters as different as the night and day, one blessed with light and the other cursed.” He mused quietly.

“Not cursed papa. One blessed by sunlight, the other by the moonlight.” Said a softly reassuring voice from his lap as his ten year old daughter gazed up at him, wrenching his heart with her unmarked beauty. Although the candlelight sparked off her hair and face, highlighting the perfection that would last well through adulthood, it dodged her eyes, leaving them two large black pools in a flawless face.

“I would you always believe that Eleanore, I truly do.” He murmured and faced the door with her steady gaze, mentally readying himself for the torment that he knew would rush screaming through it, trying to snap his sanity once more.

Not sure if is right spot for this, I'm new. Lemme know please? Ta!