Infractus Iudicium Chapter One

Chapter one

Tree limbs rustle in the wind, distracting my attention from the triplet of moons hanging in the sky. Upon the frozen ground their illuminate beams cast eery shadows as I reach up to tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear and out of my eyes. I allow my eyes to linger for a last gaze upon the perfect image of the moons. The branch I sit perched upon wobbled unsteadily as the wind begins to pick up. I conclude it would be wise to go inside and hop off the limb with a regretful sigh.

Crunch. Crunch.

The sound of ice and snow giving in under my weight echoes through the silent night. Legs almost buckling I stagger forward a few steps to gain balance. Iron hot pain rips through my back as warm blood drips down to the white blanketed earth. Glancing around me as I begin a slow advancement towards the front door, I can’t shake the oppressive sensation clutching at my heart. The vision around me blurs as a new sight takes hold.

The door is just a few feet in front of me. I stand back for a few minutes to drink in the satisfaction racing through my veins. Soon,’ I thought. ‘Soon my vengeance shall be fulfilled.’ Eyes glisten in the moons’ glow as I walk slowly to the door. Each step in sync with the rapid beating of my heart.

I take in the front door with a slight frown. Never before have my visions been so clear. So real. Shivers race up my spine as the biting wind chills my already frozen flesh. Swallowing back my unease, I reach for the doorknob. Cold iron sears my fingers as my talent brings me back into its spell.

The sound of a child’s laughter floats through the hallway and I conclude that it was that of a boy. However, the faint breathing of another freezes me in midst of the hallway. ‘There is another? Who could it be? The parents left the child alone...’ My thoughts race through me. I peek around the edge of the doorway clamping down my rising panic.

The child laughing was indeed a boy but my eyes lock onto the girl in the room. A newborn tucked in her arm, she rocks the child. Whispers of an old song fall from her mouth as the baby drifts into sleep. My eyes widen. The girl for just a moment turns into my darling Melissa. Yet she’s not.’ I firmly scold my mind as the girl sets the baby within the crib.

She limps over to the fireplace. Eyes scrutinizing her movements, I notice bruises decorating her legs. As she prods the red ashes to rekindle the flames I can see faint handprints on her thighs. The kimono, I note, is in desperate need of changing; its ragged cloth hardly covers her legs. It halts just a few inches below her waist and with a frown I watch her sibling’s interaction.

   “Go make me something to eat.” The boy sneers as she uses her sleeve to wipe off the mantel of the fireplace. She must’ve seen something I rationalize but from where I stand there isn’t anything to be cleaned.

   A scowl darkens her face as she turns to face the boy. “No. You’re old enough to make your own food. You’re freaking six, Damien.”

“But you’re the Fyrak, not me.” Damien snarls. The offending word he just used catches me off guard.

“Just because he considers me a slave doesn’t mean I’m going to submit.”

“Fine, I’ll tell Grandpa myself.” The boy leaves the room without looking back.

   Not caring she had probably just gotten herself into deep trouble, the girl wanders over to the bookshelf. Fingers running along the spine almost lovingly she reaches up to grasp a book a shelf too high. I step forward to help when I catch sight of blood trailing down her legs and the obvious pain in her eyes. Yet the tiny flare of magic spiking from her halts me in my tracks as I stare, in awe, as the book lands in her hands.  The welcoming scent of mint and freshly melted snow wafts through the air as she turns to face her sister.

   Summoning my own magic I ask her, “Do you want a way out of this hell, girl?” My eyes trail her movements as she gently strokes the baby’s face, eyes glittering with love.

   “Why would I seek the help of a stranger?” She coldly asks while pushing the blanket securely around the infant as I turn away. Heart heavy with grief over her reasonable rejection.

   “I don’t want to stay with them!” Damien’s voice breaks the vision I had been listening to. A slight frown adorns my face as I ponder on how I arrive at the dining room entrance. Stepping forward to get a better look, I watch my parents and brother with veiled distaste.

    Mother kneels beside him as she rearranges his clothes. Sweeping a hand through his red hair she croons, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure those girls don’t come near you. Just stay in here for mom, okay?” Her eyes narrow at me as if saying to leave.

    He nods before laughing at Father. His hands tuck at his sleeve as I turn away. ‘One happy family.’ My eyes swim with tears as I begin to climb the stairs leading to my room. Fingers trailing the wall trim I stumble on the uneven flooring with a muffled curse echoing the desolate hallway. Laying there with my head resting on top the carpet I wearily ponder why I have tripped when I know this flooring so well. I can feel the blood seeping from the newly opened scars lining my back and legs and with a heavy sigh I pull myself back up.

‘Just a few more feet. Come on, you can rest then!’ Legs shake as I lean to the side. My shoulder supported by the wall, I glance at my ancestor’s painting just a little ways before me. Behind said portrait lies my room, the only escape from the family members downstairs.

“Hello, Nastusia.” Raven smiles at me as I finally stop in front of her portrait.

“May I enter please, madam?” I plead, looking behind me as their faint laughter reaches my ears for a second time.

“No need to be so formal, child. If you’re looking for a place to rest then you’re always welcome here.” Raven states as she moves the portrait backwards.

Entering the room without fear, I thank the elderly woman as she closes the passageway behind me. I smile while looking around the room. Nothing has been disturbed in my week’s absence.

My eyes search the room for the box. Flicking on the lights in order to see the far side of the room I spy it just on top of the window seat. Making my way carefully around the tall stacks of books, I press my hand tightly against the throbbing shoulder. Reaching out to grasp one of the strips of cloth my hand stains the fabric red as I wrap the various cuts with my dwindling stash torn clothes. Tying the last cloth around my ankle I take time to admire the still glowing moons despite the mid-morning time. Wounds now bound I turn back to face the room.

The ancient circle etched in the center of the room begins to glow faintly. The feather stuffed bed in the far corner begins to appear more inviting as I stumble painfully over towards it. Another vision snatches hold of me just mere two steps away from the tempting mattress.

Pain grips my body as I scream. My strength leaves me with each toss of the blades. I huddle in a corner as far from him and his special blades. The ones he reserves just for me. Another blade embeds itself into my shoulder yet I push myself to my feet. Staggering, I look into the darkness where he would be. When I displease him he would always stay in one spot. Instinctively I knew fighting back is futile but nothing could curb my defiance as I sneer at him, “Soon I will be free from you, grandfather.”

“And how long will that be, girl? You’re already eighteen.” He walks into the dimly lit dungeon chamber room and my body shrinks away at sight of his smoldering eyes.

I step back as his hand reaches out to touch my face. My boldness causes the black eyes to harden. Cold hands grasp hold of my wrists with bruising strengths, hindering any attempt to claw free. Arranging his hold so his left grips both of my skinny wrists in one he presses his body against mine, forcing my back into the wall behind me. “There is no escape for you.” The whisper in my ear echoes in my mind as his free hand teases the folds of my now threadbare kimono.

Pulling free from the vision I stare down at the bed with an unreadable expression. ‘Why did it show something that’s already happened?’  I wonder as I take a seat on the bed’s edge.

‘Maybe it has to do with the other one?’ I hear Ciarán murmur as I pick at the loose threads of the quilt.

    ‘Perhaps.’ I close my eyes and drift asleep with the decision to figure it out later.

~-~-

I eye the house with a hint of anticipation. They will not get away with their crime. The gate creaks loudly as I open it. Freezing, I take a suspicious glance around me before easing my way to the back door. All I have to do now is wait. I smirk as the mother assures her son that they will be back and frown slightly when she speaks of them. ‘Other children?’ I wonder but then again they never told the nobles of any other children except for their precious Damien. Still doubting I reflect back on the last noble gathering the two attending in hopes of catching anything off.

“Hello, Lady Redmoon. How are you fairing?” I question the petite woman before me with a courteous smile. Inside, though, my heart burns with loathing as she turns to face me with the same eyes as my daughter. Such cruel irony I muse as her voice breaks my thoughts.

“I am doing well, Lord Darkcasta. It is marvelous to see you have awakened.”

    “It appears the nobles have become more..arrogant since I took such a short rest.” My words cause her to flinch while I revel in feeling her discomfort. It was only right. My eyes darken as she fakes sympathy at my grief.

    “I am truly sorry for the loss of your wife and daughter. Your daughter was only three, yes?” Eyes glimmer with satisfaction as my hand nearly shatters the delicate wine glass in my grip as anger swells through me.

    “And you, madam? Do you have any children other than your son?” I inquire hotly making her cringe. Is she hiding something?

    “No, my lord. All I have is Damien. He’s nine now.”  

    “Ah, I hope he is doing well then, milady. For now, please excuse me, several guests seem to need me.” I excuse myself gracefully as I leave the woman behind.

    ‘Do you think he knows?” Lady Redmoon whispers to her husband with a trace of fear in her voice.

    “Don’t worry so much, Asinga. There’s no chance he can have possibly heard of the girls.” He reassures her and I can feel his eyes on my back as I walk over to one of the nearby nobles.

    ‘She must’ve lied. There has to be others.’ I decide while the woman heads up the stairs. I creep closer to the door, wanting to learn more about these hidden children.

    “Mom, more?” A small girl pleads as the sound of footsteps on wood comes through the wall as I take the time to sneak into the window above my head.

    Hiding in the shadows I watch as the mother glances up from her preparation of something to look at a small three year old girl. Small eyes search the woman’s annoyed face as her hands push a bowl closer to her.

    “Fine, but you better promise not to give any to her.” Lady Redmoon hisses as she takes the bowl to the counter to place several fruits inside.

    I watch the little girl grin impishly before she quickly nods as her mother hands it over. Grasping it in her hands the child flees the room with laughter. I turn my attention to Asinga who finishes the salad and leaves the room, shouting, “Damien!”

    I wait for the sound of footsteps and the voices of the parents and boy fade. Opening the door I hear the mother shouting goodbye to the boy as the little girl waits eagerly for the door to shut. Curious to what she will do, I step closer out of the kitchen. The door closes and the girl runs up the stairs, calling, “‘usia! Mom no he’e.”

‘Another sibling?” I mumble under my breath as I follow behind the child who stops just in front of the portrait. As the child creeps inside I smile slightly at my descendant who remains open long enough for me to slip in whispering softly, “Do not startle them.”

    I enter the room and my eyes taken in the obsessively clean room with a slight grimace. Whoever takes care of this room surely did not like dirt. I spot the small girl staring at the bed in the center as if torn between leaving the occupant alone or to wake her. I focus my attention on the girl and for the first time since arriving forget the reason I came. Instead fury sweeps through me at sight of the ridiculously thin girl resting upon the mattress. ‘That can’t possibly be a bed!’ I reject the possibility as the girl stirs.

~-~-

    The faint footsteps interrupt my peaceful sleep and with a sigh I open my eyes. Face to face with Aydan I flinch and scoot away. Heart racing I stammer out, “Aydan, why are you here?”

    My younger sister pushes a bowl of fruit to me with sad eyes. ‘Great now you made her upset.’ I grumble to myself while offering her a smile.

    “Mom give food.” She grins.

    Somehow I doubt that Mother actually allowed her to give me such a thing and after voicing it to her I realize just what she’d reply. Aydan scrambles up onto the bed and wraps her tiny arms around my waist responding with sparkling eyes.

    “She no say can’t share.”

    I chuckle at her and carefully inspect the pieces of fruit. Despite the fact I know my mother won’t poison Aydan yet, I can’t ignore the instincts that kept me alive and with one last test I pick up one of the pineapples. Aydan smiles at me while taking another before asking me, “No Israel?”

    “He’s sick. So his mother...came to pick him up.” I force out. My eyes narrow at the thought of the woman that dropped off the boy a mere few hours after birth, ordering that I am to care for him. Despite this she is so willing to snatch him back when he got sick.

    Aydan stays silent as I take the chance to scoop her up. Leaving the bowl on the bed I find myself unable to resist the urge to sing. Holding her close I begin to dance just like I had done when she was younger. Her hands tighten around my neck as she asks, “Mom?”

    My heart skips a beat at that word. “Don’t let Mother hear you call me that, Aydan. She won’t like it.”

    Aydan remains silent and with the silence begins to voice the lyrics on my tongue.

“The runes of old

Stopping time and

Speaking futures

intricate complexity

Bound in symbols

of cryptic powers.”

With each line I grow closer to the circle. Closer to the power it burns me with. Just as my foot touches the outer rim of runes a voice behind me speaks up, startling both of us, “Powerful girl you are, Madam Darkcasta.”