Chapter 2
Ana.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You got this, Ana. Just be positive.
My pep talks were failing miserably. Over the last 24hrs, I’ve never experienced such bad luck in my life. My shoulders drooped as I planted myself on the empty bench at the bus stop. My breath drawled out like a tired dog as the bus turned the corner and dissolved into a speck of dust. The bus I should have been on. My stomach barked and growled and if it had a voice, it’d probably be tossing the filthiest of words at me right now. Regardless, I kept reminding myself to carry out my grandfather’s dying wish. I won’t rest easy if I didn’t at least try. He was all I considered to be family after my parents divorced. Other than that, I just kept the Gods in my heart.
At the side, a young mother brushed her fingers through the silky blonde hair of her five-year-old whilst a man whom I assumed to be the father approached them. His bright smile mirrored that of his wife’s as he reached for the little girl and grabbed her in his arms, giving her a little twirl. Around their necks, lavender-coloured gemstones hung from their necklace, much like mine. They were devotees of Mathias as well. I couldn’t help but adore the love that radiated from that family. A love I don’t think I’d ever been blessed with.
I recalled the faint images of my dad leaving while I was very young, there weren’t many fond memories of him. He was a loud, angry man. Mother changed after he left us and became the ghost of the woman she used to be. My grandfather used to visit many times to ensure my good health as he found her to be quite unstable. Looking back on it, I’m not sure why I was even left in her care in the first place. Around the age of six, she’d leave me at home for days alone. No one knew where she’d go. Until one day she left and never came back. I was half starved and locked in the attic she left me in. God knows how I survived. But I did. I always did. And I will survive this. Pushing the memory away, my thoughts shifted to another.
Grandfather’s death pained me terribly. He gave me everything. His inheritance. And yet, it was not what my heart desired. Just before his passing, he asked me to meet with the family lawyer who gave me a letter instructing me to visit this little town called Cher in England. Not the most pleasant journey, I admit. And before leaving for my trip, Aunt Edna paid me a visit with her gift of hurled accusations as she did not think her father-in-law’s will was ‘fair’ and ‘just’. A bitter old thing she was, but still I prayed to Mathias to fill her heart with peace. Grandfather called her a sour-blood though, and perhaps saw her for what she truly was.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and threw my head slightly back to ease the tension that built up at the back of my neck. The pain crept and crawled up to my temples regardless and pounded on either side as I mentally slapped myself for the shitshow of my journey thus far. But I made a mental note of each for future reference.
One. Don’t bother arriving on time for any future flight because, with my luck, there’ll be a delay.
Two. Take a motion sickness pill so that I won’t throw up like a newborn hyena everywhere.
Three. Pray to the Goddess of Sequence and Obstacle to prevent the airline from losing my luggage next time.
And four. Don’t trust the internet, because chances are those tour guides from random pop-up ads are nothing but scammers. That’s not God, that’s just the algorithm.
What else could possibly go wrong?
My stomach grumbled, alerting a stranger that walked past me. Peeling myself off the bench, I followed the heavenly scent of pastries that seduced both my nose and stomach. Passengers hurried by, in the hopes of catching the next train out of here. Yellow gemstones danced around each of their necks. Most of the townspeople I’ve observed in my brief time here wore the yellow-coloured gem belonging to the Goddess of Harvest, Vymillia. The town of Cher must have been dedicated to the Goddess. I hadn’t yet passed the town’s main temple, but I do intend to pay her my respects soon.
Hunger clawed onto me like death upon the old. Starving myself wasn’t going to help my situation. As I walked along the cobblestone pavement, a little boy stumbled before me. His dirty white shirt was torn and decorated in mud. Helping him break his fall, he smiled graciously at me. A smile that faded. Pushing me aside, he bolted. My elbows slammed into the stoney ground as I yelped from the impact. I couldn’t process what was happening, but shock ran through my veins. The weight of the bag with my wallet inside which hung over my shoulder was now gone. The child glanced back at me and let out a muffled laugh.
“You little shit,” I muttered, pushing myself up. My hair tousled in the cold wind as my heels burned after him. No one cared to help or stop him either. I twisted a corner to find an empty street. He was gone. My heart thudded dully in my chest as my breath wheezed. My body was sore, tired, and I ached. All I wanted to do right now was sink into a soft bed and forget about this horrid day. I ran my hand through my hair, letting out a long low sigh as I slumped on the bench I was previously sitting on.
This couldn’t be happening to me. Folding my arms over my clenching stomach, I slumped even lower and gazed blankly ahead of me where the last bus I was too late to get on had been. I was here without a wallet or any money on me, without food and my luggage. Thunder grumbled in the overcast skies above. My stomach was its competition. Sighing, I tried to remind myself of the positives of the day. Was there even any worth reminding myself about?
A little blue bird sat at the edge of the bench, observing the impending rain ahead of us. “Well, aren’t you a cute little thing.” I smiled faintly and reached my hand out to him until he flew away. A lumpy pain bobbed at the base of my throat. What do I do now?
The chitter chatter of tourists danced at my side. A young man, who seemed to be the guide, stopped before me. He wore khakis, an off-white long tee, and large glasses while his strawberry blonde hair tousled in the wind. With a bright smile, he put his hand out to me with his other holding a map. “You seem to be in need of a guide.”
It was like he read my mind. I returned a polite smile. “Actually, I would like to get to this place.” I stood, drops of hope saturated into my bones as I pointed to the location on the letter I was instructed to be at, “I just found myself in a bit of a situation here.”
“Well would you look at that!” he chirped, “This is along the way of our hike. You can come along if you’d like.”
A flicker of happiness flipped within me but dissolved within seconds, “I have no money. Someone stole my wallet.”
“Not you worry.” He assured me. “Next time I see you, you can buy me a cherry tart. My name’s Quilt. Markie Quilt, but I always prefer just Quilt.”
“Ana Alois.” I smiled.
“Okay then Ana Alois, we’d best head on the bus to get to our hike before that storm breaks upon us. Birds of a feather flock together.”
What a strange man.
He helped me into the tour bus which seemed to have magically appeared out of nowhere. Perhaps I hadn’t been paying attention too much.
The drive to the destination was quite shorter than I’d expected. Quilt was such a delight to listen to as he informed the fellow hikers of the history of the town they now entered. A sleepy little town it was. It reminded me of towns from the fairytales I used to read as a child.
“And here we are!” he beamed in a singsong manner. “Just up the hill is the Lancaster Castle. A romantic little story of the Harvest Goddess and her Court Guard how it came to be, I’ll tell you along the way.”
Exiting the bus, Quilt stopped me, “Ana, stick with me, okay? I’ll show you where we must divert paths along the way. I have an umbrella for you in case it starts to pour.”
As we walked together in a group, he slowed a bit and gave me the umbrella. “You see that huge manor peeking out from there?” he pointed. “That’s Oldstone Manor. That’s your location.”
“Oh Quilt,” I smiled in a sigh, “I can’t thank you enough. This means so much to me.”
“You should go now before it gets too late. And be careful alright?”
“Thank you, Quilt. I’ll never forget this. I’ll make sure to meet you again to buy you that tart.”
“I’ll be looking forward to that, Ana Alois.”
There was something so bright and kind about him. He was like that ray of sun after a storm. Or perhaps the sweet sound of a bird on a lonely day. Without time to waste, I tracked down the hill. Within minutes, the heavy drops of rain pounded upon my umbrella, and the mud began eating into my toes. I wished I hadn’t worn slippers like these. That was entirely my fault. Maybe if I had opted for shoes, I could have caught up with that little smuggler.
The wind beat against the rain, soaking me regardless of the umbrella. I wasn’t that far from the manor. I just wished this hill wasn’t so steep. Thunder crashed as I stubbed my toe on a rock and tripped, rolling into the muddy ground. The umbrella slipped out of my hands and blew away as I tumbled down. I stood with a groan and pain in all places of my body.
I was a mess. A wet muddy mess. Just a little further I told myself slipping and sliding as the rain pounded on me, soaking me in its entirety. The manor wasn’t large per se, it seemed very homely if I were honest. I sneezed as I reached the porch. A shiver crawled up my body while my hair dripped with water. At least here was dry. I knocked on the door but there was no answer.
“Hello?” I called, knocking again when it creaked open. It seemed to be already left ajar. I didn’t want to intrude so I knocked again. Still, there was no answer. In the faint distance, a man sat in an armchair before the fireplace. The crackling sound of wood crisped through the thick air, and the fire seduced me toward it. Icy needles licked onto my skin and the sounds were low. It was almost as if I could feel the faint breath of the man vibrate through my pores. He hadn’t turned to me, nor did I realize that I let myself in. I stopped in my tracks, taking in a shaky breath, and getting a better glimpse of the man.
He sat, unmoved yet aware. His delicate fingers perched upon his face as his eyes drank in the flames. His hair was long and white and cascaded down his shoulders. Yet, he was no old man. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a man with such features in my life. He stood, with his back still facing me. There was a certain elegance about him. He was a tower before me.
“You’re going to soil my floor if you keep standing there.” He spoke. The sound of his voice was much like a warm harshness, edged with an indescribable darkness to its core. I flushed, regretfully.
“I’m sorry, I was just-”
He turned causing me to choke on my words. His violet eyes absorbed me, with a frown.
He’s so beautiful.
His expression faltered almost as if he’d read my mind. Had he? Oh no, did I say that aloud? A flush of panic drenched me and burned across the cheeks of my face.
“You were just-?” He pushed me to continue, arching a delicate brow.
“Well, my grandfather sent me to this-”
The door slammed before me.
What?
What just happened?
Had I walked backward?
No. I- I couldn’t have. How was that possible?
How did I get behind the door?
I trembled, reaching for my gemstone in comfort. My energy was terribly drained, and my stomach was crying in hunger. My body was soaked, and my clothing was dripping. I had no money or clothes and I was stuck outside the house of someone who didn’t seem to care why I was here in the first place. I, myself, had no idea why I was here and that was the silliest part of all. I should just go back home. Wherever that was. I’m pretty sure Aunt Edna was currently occupying grandfather’s house audaciously, and wherever she was never felt like a home to me. I couldn’t even leave right now unless I was willing to get soaked and lost in the coming darkness.
No. I wasn’t someone to give up. I had to try and make the man at least listen to me. He was so unmannerly to slam the door in my face like that. What a cruel man. “Hey!” I turned back swiftly and pounded my fist on the door, “I came here because I was sent here okay, mister! Could you maybe please just hear me out?”
Minutes passed. He didn’t answer.
I sighed and sat on the little dry corner of the patio, curling myself in a little ball. “Please God Mathias, please help me.” I prayed.
My eyes drifted heavily as I thought about the way my grandfather prayed so ardently to the Gods and allowed me to familiarize myself with them as well. He taught me about faith and goodness and stories of the Gods long ago. The God Mathias always held a special place in my heart. I never understood why. There was a gentle affection radiating from the kind and forgiving God. His presence neared me. Even now.
The floorboards creaked as he neared me and knelt at my side, sheltering me from the rain which crashed in. His warm hand pressed against my cheek. He always smiled in my dreams but right now he seemed incredibly upset. His disapproving frown and jasmine scent intertwined. His blond hair fell evenly and neatly at his shoulders while his sky-blue eyes glazed over me.
All will be right.
His words drift sweetly through my body.
All will be right.
And yet, time seemed distorted.
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