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| Tension at Danielle’s cottage |
Danielle's cottage was quiet. She sat on her sofa holding hands with Aurora as the clock ticked away the minutes, then the hours that the men had gone after Viktor Holten, the man who's mind had finally split into two distinct personalities and had taken Cora captive in an automobile. In that escape, he drove off the side of the Northside Cliffs and into the wild crashing sea below.
Baxter sat with Aurora and Danielle too. Tapping his finger on the edge of a wooden arm rest of the chair watching the door hoping his sister Cora would walk in safe and sound.
"This is killing me." He said softly.
"We have to stay calm. We'll know what happened soon." Aurora assured them.
Danielle sensed in Aurora’s voice that she feared the worst as the hours got later and later with no news.
 |
| The search for survivors |
Justin, Nik and Aaron had traversed down a long rocky trail on the back end of the cliff and followed the beach along the coast to the bottom where they found smoldering, mangled car.
The waves were relentless. They plowed over the rocks and the car, washing away all of the horror that had just happened. The men slowly approached, at times shin-deep in sea water. Justin raised his gun.
"I need you both to stay back." He instructed.
"But I can help if they’re injured." Nik said, reminding them he was a doctor.
"Just stay back." Justin said as the three slowly approached.
Aaron's heart raced. His new wife was in that car. Was she alive? She had to be. She had to be alive, he thought. They had only been married a day, their relationship still so fresh, still so new. It couldn't be that it had ended before it began.
"VIKTOR!? CORA!?" Justin shouted over the crashing waves.
There was no answer.
The driver side door was bent and twisted outward. The entire car itself looked like it had been cut open with a giant can opener. The metal contorted in shapes they had never seen before.
They continued to approach. Closer and closer they got with only the moon light bouncing off the water to light their way. The waves washed up on them harder and harder; even the sea was angry at being witness to such a horrific tragedy.
"BACK! STAY BACK!" Justin instructed.
"CORALINE!!" Aaron shouted.
Justin peeked into the car and saw her. She was slumped over on her side. Blood seeped from her mouth but would wash away with a wave. Justin could tell her neck had been broken.
Justin turned back to Aaron. His facial expression said it all. Aaron collapsed into the waves. The water overtaking him. He begged God to take him too. Take him to be with Coraline. Nik rushed to the car to see her, there was no pulse.
Coraline Taylor Murphy-Hamstead -- had not survived.
It suddenly dawned on them, Viktor was gone. His body missing. He was not in the car, no sign of him. But there were traces of blood where his body would have been.
"The waves, they must of washed him out. Look!" Justin said, as the water did indeed come into the car.
Nik helped Aaron up out of the sand and on to the rocks. He was completely soaked from head to toe. "Come on, come on. I'll take you back up."
"NO! I can't leave her!!" he screamed. "NO!!"
"Aaron! Please!" Nik said.
"I WANT TO SEE HER! I WANT TO SEE HER!" He shouted.
"No, Aaron! You shouldn’t have that in your mind."
But the heartbroken man did go back into the sea, pushed passed Justin and looked into the car and lifted Coraline’s body out of the car and brought it back to shore.,
Aaron sobbed over his lifeless new bride shattering him into a million pieces.
****
The next day, as the warm air filtered through a stream of tightly locked clouds, the village of Welshport awoke to the blistering news of the tragic car accident on the cliffs the night before. The police, led by Constable Justin Ryan, held most of the truth close to the vest. Justin wanted no one to know what really happened -- in hopes to keep the reality of the strange case of Viktor Holden & Caspian Casador private with only the families involved knowing.
The Welshport Globe, for its part, was just as in the dark as anyone despite their prized journalist Baxter being directly involved. Even he couldn't muster the courage to write up something so real as his own sister's obituary. Not now. Not ever.
The body of Caspian Casador, or Viktor Holten had not been found. Garments of his clothes did wash up on shore in the morning. His body though, lost at sea thanks to the pulling of the strong sea current that night.
****
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| Young Love in bloom |
In Village Park, as the warm air floated beneath the trees and the gurgling giant stone fountain splashed like the cadence of a river, 14-year-olds Morgan and Charlotte shyly walked hand-in-hand along the park path. He reached over and picked a small yellow flower and handed it to her. She blushed and smelled its sweet scent and then slipped it into his jacket pocket.
"I think it looks nice here." She said.
The two youngsters had gotten closer. She had seen him as a best friend for so long, but their first kiss had changed all that. And she knew that it was the right next step. Morgan, for his part, had always loved Charlotte. From the moment he set eyes on her the second he arrived at Tirymor he knew one day he’d marry her.
Their happy young love felt natural and easy even if the bog of reality was always trying to pull them under. Their youth seemed to shield them from the sadness anll around them: Coraline and Caspian's shocking deaths, Rebecca's imprisonment, Asha's death. Everything that has happened in darkness had to step aside to allow young love to bloom in the sun.
Yet even then they could not ignore reality forever.
"Have you spoken to Aaron? I know how close the two of you are." Morgan asked, Charlotte shook her head. "Do you want me to go with you to see him?"
"He’s like a big brother." She answered, "Tallest man I know. It’s so sad -- I just can't think of how he must be feeling." She added.
"Are you sure you don't want to go see him?"
"I want to give him some space. Everything has happened so fast." She replied. "I did write him a note though. I sent it out earlier today."
Morgan looked at Charlotte, who was wise beyond her 14 years. She had an angelic face; her blonde hair sparkled in the sun with curls that crowded her shoulders. He could tell that everything all around her had taken its toll. And it wasn't fair, not for a girl her age. Not for kids their age. They shouldn't have had to deal with so much adult struggle and pain -- yet here they were. Forced to face the dark shadows cast by the mistakes of their own family members over and over again.
Morgan held on to Charlotte’s hand as they moved to sit on the park bench. She smiled and scooted over to him, closer, so their legs touched. They had one more obstacle to worry about. What would happen when her uncle Christopher and his mother Genevieve got married. The coming marriage would change a lot in their relationship, they’d essentially be step-cousins.
The biggest worry though was for Morgan who worried that Genevieve would want to move them away from the prying eyes of the Lord family and Welshport.
It was something Charlotte and Morgan had not talked about, hinted in quick chats, but never fully discussed: a possible separation.
She looked at him, his face slightly turned away from as if he were too shy to look at her. She played with the yellow flower in his jacket. Charlotte didn't need to use her psychic ability to know he had something on his mind, more than about Coraline's tragedy.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Huh?"
"Morgan, what is it? I can tell there's something else you need to say." She said.
He gulped. "I was just thinking about — things." He replied.
"Like?"
"My mom. Chris. What happens next."
Charlotte sighed "I've thought about that too, my father's hasn't made it easy for Uncle Davi---Chris, Uncle Chris--" she corrected -- to come back into the family fray. “Not with your mother who looks so much like aunt Sabrina." Charlotte added. “It’s haunting.”
"Haunting to you too?" The boy asked.
Charlotte thought about it for a second, the time when the spirit of the late Sabrina Lord inhabited her body and made her do some questionably deadly things.
But that was years ago, Charlotte had been able to move past Sabrina's powerful and ghostly manipulations and helped her move into the light, but Genevieve’s strong resemblance was jarring.
"I'll manage." She said with a smile to ease his anxiety. "And I think I can convince daddy to ease off of Uncle Chris too." She added.
"You think he'd listen to you?" Morgan wondered.
"Maybe -- now that my grandmother is gone away, he can focus on other things. His business. His control over everything the Lord family’s name and Empire touches. That's what he's always wanted. We can be sure that there won't be any drastic changes knowing he'll be preoccupied with all of that."
"I hope you're right." Morgan siad.
"I'm sure of it." she replied.
Morgan looked at the beauty in front of him and smiled, wondered to himself how could she be so confident. Then asked her "How? Huh? How can you feel so sure?" He asked.
Charlotte once again played with the flower in his jacket pocket. She didn't know how to say it in words, it was just -- there. She knew. She could feel it when she wanted to and turn it off when she didn't. How does one explain something so natural as her psychic tendencies?
She closed her eyes and, in her mind, went somewhere. Somewhere deeply inward and quiet where she could see people, places, things that were not visible to the naked eye.
She went there, often, this place in her mind, to find solace. To find peace. Because there she could see the future. Her visions were not always clear and often times there was nothing to see. She would see images that made no sense, or places she had never heard of. Many times those images were too vague for her to make sense of them. But even with those confusing visions she would go to this place in her mind that calmed her.
Such was this time. She didn't see anything specific. Not a face. Not a place. Just a feeling. A calming warm feeling that told her in this moment in time the thing she was most worried about would turn out to her favor. When? She had no idea, but it would.
Her young age still blocked her from truly harnessing her full powers. With time, she'd learn how to use them and control them and make sense of them, but for now, Charlotte would hold on to just knowing and settling into the feeling and emotion that washed over her when she entered this place in her growing powerful mind.
"I just know, I know things will work out for us and we’ll be able to stay together." She said to Morgan.
"What little shard of trust are you holding on to that makes you feel so sure?" He asked innocently.
She smiled and grabbed his hand and squeezed.
He then realized it was him. It was them. She trusted him and in was he that made her hold on. Charlotte knew that somehow someway they'd find their way through everything that was thrown and them.
Charlotte snugged up under his arm on the park bench. The warn sun kissed their young faces and he lay his head on hers as the watched the fountain prattle on -- both hoping for brighter days ahead.
****
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| The Braga house |
Across town, Filipe Braga hurriedly got little Caleb dressed for the day. The baby, pink cheeked and plump, giggled as his father put on a warm white long sleeve shirt and buttoned it to the top. The tickle of the collar made the baby laugh a bit more despite the worried face his father had on.
As Filipe laced up the baby's leather shoes, Filipe's mother's Fatima entered the nursery.
"Where's Maria?" Fatima asked realizing the baby's morning ritual was usually done by his mother.
"She didn't come home last night. I -- I don't know what's going on. I have to go out and find her. Do you think you can watch Caleb?" he asked.
"Claro que sim, querido." Fatima confirmed in her native Portuguese, happily taking the baby in her arms. "She never came back?"
"She’s been having a hard time." Filipe explained, nodding. "I know she's still trying to break free from what happened to her but to just leave the house and not tell us when she'd return. That's unlike her." Filipe said.
"And the island." Fatima replied.
"The island? What do you mean?" He asked her as they walked to the kitchen.
"She left Welshport, I saw her near the docks. I assumed you knew." Fatima replied.
"NO!" he yelped. "I did not know. Why didn't you tell me. Did she go to her mother's cottage?" He wondered.
"Talvez." Fatima replied, agreeing. "Its her home, it's where her roots are. Its where her mother and little Louise are buried. Perhaps she went there to reconnect and find herself again."
"I have to get there, I have to get to her. She's been --" Filipe sighed, "just not herself. I worry for her."
"Go. Go. I'll be here with this little bundle and you take care of your wife, filho meu, go."
Filipe kissed his mother on the cheek and his little boy on the head. He grabbed his coat hanging on a hook near the door and noticed Mary's cloak was still there. She didn't have it with her. This worried him more. A small boat ride from Welshport Harbor to Goode Island was quick but cold, especially at night. Something was definitely. off.
 |
| Trapped twins |
Verity had been knocked unconscious after the fall into the pit with Mary. She had awoken only once but thee pain that came from a broken leg was excruciating enough to have her faint and sleep through the night.
The morning light peeked in from above through the ground level windows of the basement and eventually both twins began to regain composure.
Mary reached for her head, it was throbbing from the impact when she fell. She tilted her neck, stretching it half way around to help ease the pain, to no avail. The fall from the mouth of the pit had also given her a fresh concussion. She was weak and dizzy, but could not muster energy to lift her head up.
Verity’s body too felt battered, but she had no time to worry about herself, she had to think fast. A bone in her right leg cracked in half and had caused a huge bruise and she could not walk. She lifted up the dark skirt of her dress and looked down at the damaged leg. She closed her eyes and put her hands around the injury. She took a deep breath and with everything she had in her squeezed the injury causing her to scream in agony.
Mary, startled by the animalistic yell, scooted away from her twin to one side of the dirt pit and covered her ears. A sudden glow of Verity's hands began to warm the injury. The powerful light was bright like the sun, and it began to heal her leg.
It was Verity's true first time using her own magic for good, a good that benefited only herself.
In just moments, the broken leg was healed, and Verity was good as new.
"That was easy." She said in a hushed voice.
"You've learned so fast." Mary replied. "How were you able to use your powers in here? There's a ring of salt around the edge."
Verity rolled her eyes, she couldn't believe her own sister was this naive about the powers they both possessed, even when it was the subject of how to suppress those powers like the ring of salt.
"I placed the salt, Mary! It only keeps you from using your powers, not me. That's how spells work, or have you forgotten? I need to get out of here and back home, Filipe will be worried sick."
"Verity, listen to me," Mary began, slowly getting up, only moving as fast as her ill body could muster. "you have to let me go home and back to my family. We can work all of this out together. We don't need to fight."
Verity sensed a kindness coming from the woman in front of her. Her twin. Their faces created perfect likeness.
Mary noticed this too, it was fascinating to see her own face standing in front of her and it not be a mirror.
"We're sisters, after all." Mary said.
"Always the consummate actress."
"I'm not acting."
"Mary, what do you think would happen to me once we're back out there in the world together? I was not meant to live in this world for you. My life at conception was never fulfilled. You were the twin that lived and was born, I was gone -- gone before mother could ever know I was supposed to be alive. But the council knew this, they concocted this idea for me to live my own life as I should have -- but its too late for me to start fresh. Your life, however, is ready for me. A family. A husband. A world for me to step into and live, so fully. That's what I did, and I won't turn back now."
"That's not true, you can still live your own life in your own way and I can help you, I would help you. I would be so proud to have a sister." Mary said.
Verity thought about it for a second. She didn't sense deception. Mary was saying things that Verity could only trust was the truth.
"You're so sincere, but this is now too far gone." Verity said.
Verity dusted her dress off. The mud fell to the floor in clumps. Verity reached up and closed her eyes. Her feet lifted off the ground, floating there as an invisible wind that began to blow, filling the pit and allowing Verity to rise slowly from her sister's possible future grave.
Verity had no intention of ever allowing Mary out of the pit. She had no intention of giving up the life she felt she had deserved and was entitled to but was not given the chance to fulfill. Destiny, as it happened, had kept Verity from this life: of a mother, a wife a sister.
But Mary had no intention of rolling over either and allowing her life to be usurped by her dreamed up twin. She lunged at Verity and pulled her down. Verity's concentration broke and she fell to the ground. Mary got on top of her sister. She began to hit her, Verity fought back and then like a stray bullet from a gun an energy blast from Verity's hand exploded between them knocking them both back, each slamming against the side of the pit once again knocking them to the ground unconscious.
The blast was so large, that it shook the ground. A wide ripple effect went through layers and layers of dirt and soil and sea causing large waves to lift and build over the ocean. The waves were so large, smaller boats in the strait between both islands grew larger and larger almost capsizing them in the sea.
Filipe went down to the docks and started towards one of the small boats that were rented for a few hours to go out and fish or, for him, carry him over to Goode Island.
He reached down for the rope that had one boat tied to the dock. But someone walked over and grabbed his hands.
"No-can-do, Filipe. Look at these choppy waves. Can't let anyone on the sea using these little boats. Not until things calm down." the boatman said.
"Oh, I'll be alright, I just have to get to Goode Island, I won't be out long and it's just across the strait." Filipe said. "Please, it's an emergency."
"No-can-do. Come on up, we'll wait this out." the man said.
"You're not listening, this is an emergency. I have to get out there now!"
"I heard you!" The man who managed all of the boats shouted. "But I said to get your ass back up and wait out the waves. We don't want anyone going out in this condition. You know the sea; it won't last long. Once it calms down again you'll be good to go. Now come back up here."
Filipe sighed frustratingly. He looked over at Goode Island in the distance and worried Mary was in danger. More danger than he himself could have ever guessed.
 |
| Saying goodbye |
But it was real and they were gone.
Baxter stood next to Lear. Her two brothers' (one by adoption the other by blood) held a large wreath of white roses. Lear couldn't believe he was at Cora’s memorial service. They had just gotten to know each other after years and years apart. It was as if the universe had only teased him with the love of his returned sister.
Lear's partner Lucas walked over and held his hand. "Its going to be ok." He whispered.
Baxter noticed their closeness, a slight flash of jealousy hit him. He and Lear's relationship had fizzled many years ago, before Lear had even returned to Welshport. Now that Cora was gone, he felt a sense of longing for Lear again, an attachment, a connection to Cora too.
Lear began to move closer to the edge of the cliff, pulling Baxter with him. The two tossed the wreath into the sea and watched go out into the water like a little floating raft of roses.
"I'm fine, thank you, I'm fine Mrs. Jordan." He said picking up the flowers. "Can you please do this for me, send the flowers to her in the sea. I have to -- I can't bear it." He added handing Aurora the bouquet.
"Of course, Aaron, of course."
Eden stepped aside from Aurora and grabbed Lear's arm.
"I'm very sorry for your loss." He told his lawyer friend, whom he'd often find across from him in court.
"Thank you." He replied as he looped his arm though Lucas'.
"Thank you, I think Jacob did as well." Lear said.
"I see, well, again I'm very sorry."
"Why did he chase him?" Baxter asked.
Eden turned unsure what he meant, Baxter continued.
"Justin. Why did Justin chase them like that. Caspian was out of his mind. He forced Caspian to do this."
"No, I don't think I see it that way. We had no idea what Caspian was going to do. He had attacked us all -- even you -- and we knew that ---" Eden paused, seeing it was not the right place or time to go into details. "Look, I think you should speak with Justin about what happened. It's better coming from him."
"I'll never ever forgive myself." Danielle said quietly as the waves crashed below.
"It's really all my fault. Did you see Aaron’s face? He thinks it too!” Danielle said.
She nodded. "I'll do my best."
A tear ran down her face and Nik wiped it away and kissed the stain it left on her cheek.
"Give her time." Aurora said. "Just give her time, she'll understand."
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| Tirymör |
