《Shadow Sister》
Chapter One
It is with great reluctance and no little hesitation I have decided to write down my experiences over the past year. I do this only to assert the coherency of my mind, to assuage doubts about my sanity, and I suppose out of some all too common desire to have my own perspective laid out in an easily articulated and comprehensive form, that I ¨C if no other ¨C may judge for myself as to the credibility of what I am about to tell. Know that I am Eustirel Castiel, second daughter of the House of Castiel, and that the things here written ¨C strange as they may seem ¨C contain my outmost sincerity.
It was during the first snow of winter when my older sister - Liriel - was beset by a great fever. The recent winter had been harsh, with cold winds and heavy snow fall, and my sister must have fallen ill quite suddenly as the forest-man had found her collapsed outside in the forest. For many days we thought she would not make it as she was bedridden, weak and slipping in and out of consciousness. She would say the strangest things in her sleep, and twist and turn as if wracked by some great and terrible nightmare. The family doctor stood helpless and pale faced as my father threatened and bargained with him. ¡¯It¡¯s in the hands of God now¡¯ was his final statement, given in a scared whisper. The pride of a secular man, broken and dead on the floor. We thought we were going to lose her and then - as if the doctors prayer had been answered ¨C the fever cleared overnight. My sister awoke lucid, alive, not a trace of the sickness which had so ravaged her. We were overjoyed, Mother in particular who had taken badly to the entire affair. I must confess I was excuberant. My darling sister, the light of our house and my most beloved relative brought to deaths door. A dark cloud had enveloped my heart for days on end and had now been lifted. I still remember how our sister greeted us, bright, smiling, eyes flashing with an inner light. I remember the gentle joy I felt. I remember thinking there was something off about that smile. Relief flooded through me like sunlight. Oh if only we knew what was to unfold. I must speak of my House, of Castiel. It is most imperative that what is to come is grounded in a basic knowledge of our family and of our surroundings. Castiel is old, ancient even. We were among the first to settle these lands several centuries ago. As the realms grew and unified Castiel remained ¨C a bulwark against time. Though marred by that same time, and though greatly diminished by the turn of ages, and prior wars and politics our lands remain a vast and respectable estate. Our mansion stands atop a great hill, overlooking the forested and uneven ground. It had been first built a mere two hundred and seventy years prior, and even with the occasional renovation the baroque and older architecture still dominated the building. High windows, wide and empty corridors, and a wide variety of strange creatures ¨C their visages formed into the stone and woodwork all across the building. One may think us a mere border domain, but we are in fact not far from the capital. Forest and steel remain our main exports, and as the land is so is our lineage, tenacious and strict. My sister ¨C I hesitate to say ¨C did not share this temperament, or rather she took after it in her own way. If the rest of us were iron, sharp, determined, straightlaced, she was fire ¨C passionate, fierce. Whispering tongues would call her arrogant ¨C but I always took pride and joy in her confident dignity. I was sure it would be needed in the coming years. The truth is the mines had grown thin over the centuries, and while a generous bounty of ore still resided in the deeper hills their extraction had only grown more expensive. The income from our forestry was meager in comparison and so the finances of the house had diminished. Not to the point of disaster, but certainly to the point of unease. The internal strain of the house echoed the external strain of the kingdom. While the outward appearance was one of stable peace, tenacious rumours of brewing conflicts and increasing tensions with neighbouring countries kept surfacing. It was in this time of creeping dread and ill tidings that our sisters sickness hit us, and it was in this time that her recovery seemed to bring a brief moment of light to us. However, it was not long after her great illness that we noticed peculiar changes in her behavior. The servant¡¯s was the first to notice. They would speak of a great mellowing in the lady Azurel. Of the great fever tempering her usual fire. Perhaps putting her behaviour down to a lingering weakness, some frailty in the previously unyielding frame of the young lady.
My sister invited me into her room one morning, for a spot of tea. The clear winter sun filled her room with a golden light, and as I sat down with her we spoke at length. She quickly took the lead in the conversation, speaking of how glad she was to met me. She seemed so joyful. She spoke of small trivialities in a happy voice, and of how greatly she appreciated my company, and of how she was determined to do better and to be better and all I could think of was that something here was wrong, so very wrong. But the eccentricities of my sister were not limited merely to her style of socializing. I would often meet her in the library ¨C I¡¯d always appreciated that part of the mansion. A quiet, dignified place, steeped in old books, a place for contemplation and relaxed study. But before her great illness my sister had never shown a particular interest in it. Not that she shirked her studies ¨C her grades were quite impressive ¨C but rather that she held little interest in the old fashioned literature that could be found there. But now I repeatedly found her spending time there, descended into ceaseless study. And the subjects of her studies were strange as well. She eschewed the books on etiquette, fashion, and administration required by a lady. She also turned away from subjects of romance or adventure one might expect would have been their replacement. Instead she devoured books on history, natural sciences, and warfare. I could not help but wonder what she was studying for. But while such literature comprised her main interests it was not the only thing she studied. Finances, laws, and agriculture also touched her curiosity. What noble lady studied books on farming? It was strange, and I thought so at the time. I would be alone in that view. The servants quite took to her new and friendlier demeanor ¨C but so did father and mother. They were just so happy to have their child back, they were delighted by her bright smiles and overt happiness, they put down the changes to her personality to the great shock of her terrifying illness. They were content to accept her as she was. Only I could not. If her changes were a result of the great fever, then why did she suddenly know things she did not before? Small things, such as the name of a servant she never cared for before. And why had she lost her other knowledge? Such as various bits of subtle etiquette - fundamental things - how to eat, how to move, how to greet others. And so I stood, alienated and alone, as the rest of the mansion grew increasingly bewitched. But if this strange situation brought with it a melancholic sense of dread, it was about to pale in comparison as to what would come. It would be little less than a month since my sisters recovery that the royal palace hosted its annual palace ball. We would both be in attendance.
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In comparison to the stern and ancient Castiel manor, resplendent in its old glories, the architecture of the royal palace was graceful and refined ¨C a gentle elegance of white walls and tasteful decorations in marble and brass ¨C mostly abstract art in graceful flowing lines, but the occasional picturesque statue of a swan or lion helped accompany the overall impression. I was quite taken with the palace, especially in the evenings of great celebration where thousands of candles bathed every corridor, every corner of the vast and impressive garden, and every room in a soft and welcoming light. Both me and my sister had only attended the palace a few times hitherto, and we had much looked forward to the occasion. I wore the common colors of Castiel - black and deep red ¨C but my sister had foregone her usual attire and instead donned a brilliant green dress, accompanying it with pearls of pure white. None could deny the striking beauty of my sister in that dress ¨C a dangerous beauty ¨C a beauty that could easily entrance anyone. It was no surprise then that, as we entered the main hall of the ball, every eye was drawn towards my sister. Soon I found myself observing from the sidelines as a small cadre of suitors formed around her, each young hopeful trying to impress with some jape or brag, many asking for a dance, many not daring to. I thought little of it until the dance with the crown prince. The relationship between my sister and the crown prince had always been tense, and it was with visible reservation that he asked for her hand to lead her to the dancefloor. A formal requirement of etiquette, with no genuine interest. And as they danced, this impression of mine did not break. But there was a moment when my sister leaned in to whisper something into the ear of the crown prince. The change in demeanor was immediate, and though I found it quite noticeable, few others seemed to. The dance that had been reserved became terse and the gaze of the prince that had been disinterested became cold and wary. After the dance finished, there was a scattering of applause and the prince, after giving a courtly bow, joined the crowd. He left the ballroom only a little while afterward. My sister danced a few more times before doing the same. I do not believe anyone but I noticed. They were both gone quite a while ¨C if I had not known both of them and their relationship with each other, one might have suspected impropriety, but that would not make sense considering the persons involved ¨C and I grew increasingly curious as to what was going on. I was half expecting some argument or verbal shouting match to have unfolded between them when the prince suddenly returned. His mood had gone through another dramatic change. He seemed elevated, energetic, as if some great weight had lifted from his shoulders. My sister rejoined only a little while later. They kept to separate parts of the crowd afterward though I could have sworn they stole glances at each other. An immeasurable strange occurrence. But the strangest occurrence of them all was after the party when my sister refused to tell me what had happened. She played it off as nothing, professing ignorance, repeatedly making claims that nothing had happened. And as she played it off well - and seemed completely earnest in her statements ¨C I felt a pit forming in my stomach. My sister was hiding something from me. Something of great importance. But there was little I could do to assuage my growing doubts and curiosities. The weeks progressed as they do, and scarcely any events occurred to raise further curiosities, save for a persistent exchange of letters between the crown prince and my sister. I was not privy to these letters, and whenever I was queried as to their content my sister answered only in vague ambiguities and unspecific pleasantries. My parents seemed only delighted by the interest of the royal house, but for me my curiosity slowly lightened into a fierce and burning flame. And yet there was little I could do. If my uncharacteristically pleasant yet evasive sister refused to speak to me what was I to do? I might have conceived breaking into her room to read the letters for myself but so help me I still could not comprehend the sinister truth behind it all.
Chapter Two
It would be several weeks after the ball that the second major incident occurred. This time our family would be hosting a grand dinner, attended by many high and important officials. Not the crown prince ¨C he had many duties that precluded his company ¨C but the third prince, the youngest ¨C as well as the prime minister and his son. Unlike the crown prince there was no tense relationship between them and my sister. Indeed there was very little association at all. She had little reason to associate with them, or so I thought.
The grand dinner started as per tradition, a dignified and somber affair. But this adherence to etiquette would soon be upended by my sister¡¯s unorthodox approach to high society. Hitherto her lapses of etiquette had been small affairs, easily ignored by my parents, easily forgiven by wide society, and only rousing any form of doubt in my own self. But now my sister - either through highly doubtful incompetence or through reckless intentionality ¨C committed several large mistakes in short succession. First she ignored the standard seating arrangements, placing herself opposite to the grand minister''s son, leaving me entertaining an awkward and embarrassed aunt whose seat had just been stolen. Secondly she had chosen to adorn herself not with a subtle and reserved dress fitting the more private and ostensible less formal affair of a house dinner, but rather with a dress much reminiscent of the one she wore at the grand ball. The scandalous nature of which was soon upended by her repeated interruptions in the discussion between the grand minister and my father. A girl of sixteen should not participate in advanced discussions of national economics but if she were to do so she should certainly not participate in them with an ease and cunning that matched men three times her age. So witty was her repertoire that she had soon pulled in the grand minister¡¯s son into the conversation. And he was younger than she was. At least he did not display knowledge far in advance of his years, though that in itself did not do the exchange many favors. And worse still it did not take long for the shock, mild horror, and stunned surprise of my sister''s eccentric behavior to be replaced by an impressed admiration of her eloquence, first from my parents, then my relatives and the guests and finally by the servants in the room. I appeared to be the only one to find little charm in my sisters quite strange degree of knowledge. It was as if her intellect had become an entirely separate entity from her own self, driving her into strange patterns of thoughts and behavior. And while her grasp of dry topics such as national economics should have been far beyond her years, her grasp of basic dining etiquette was atrocious. And this was something she had first learned as she was able to speak, while the first time I¡¯d seen her crack open a book on economics beyond her standard coursework was little over a month ago. This was the moment I fully resolved to investigate similar cases to my sister. If it really was her great fever that had precipitated her great change then there must surely be other instances where similar events had transpired. By the end of the dinner my sister had quite charmed not only most of the guests but in particular the leading minister of our grand kingdom as well as his son. This however would not be the end of her new found desire for increasing her personal array of well-connected associates.
After the events of the grand dinner I slowly started to shift from my passive observation to more active research. Admittedly my initial forays into this were haphazard and hesitant. I simply did not know what to look for. I spent many days in the library, trying to find examples of similar personality shifts in other cases. And while I found nothing explicit, after a while I started to sense a sort of pattern to various incidents across many times and places. While nothing definite was jotted down in those great tomes, there were incidents that might be similar to what had happened to my sister. I could find little connection between them and they seemed to occur with no specific limitations in regards to what era of history or what locale or country they occurred in. However there was something there, some subtle shifts in historical events, or at least the appearance thereof. But I could not say for certain that my logic was sound. Indeed it appeared to me that I was merely filling in what I wanted to see, that I might have unintentionally picked out cases that fit this pattern, instead of discerning the pattern from the cases that I found. Simply put I needed a definite instance of a similar incident, some clear-cut shift in a person¡¯s sensibility from which to compare with my own observations and extrapolate potential future events. But my research was forced to be put on hold as the next great event my family was set to participate in approached. An event I found I had started to dread, so expectant was I that my sister would do something strange.
The winter tournament was an annual competition among all of the kingdom¡¯s top knights. The flags swung high in the cold air, and the skies were a brilliant blue as we took our seats. The intense cold was amply kept at bay by my large fur robe, with only my nose being slightly cold in the clear air. My sister however shivered next to me, her lighter fur robe somewhat inadequate. Having grown used to her new ways I quickly noted her new ¡¯target¡¯. She paid special attention to the young son of the knight captain. The poor boy had earned quite the honorable distinction of being the youngest knight to earn his rank, but his connection to his father had sent many crude tongues wagging, speaking of the inherent nepotism of such an act. Being familiar with the young man¡¯s skill with a sword I looked forward to him silencing such vulgarity. In truth even if my sister had not gazed at him with such excited eyes I believe I could have predicted where her attention would come to rest. She seemed to have cultivated a deep interest in the sons of our kingdom¡¯s most powerful families. But to what end? And how would she possibly approach the young knight errant? The answer to the latter question would come quite soon, and the answer to the former would come far too late. As we found our seats my sister was nowhere to be found. She must have wandered off almost immediately. My father dispatched the manservant to find her and we settled in to watch the great event. As the introductory displays of martial skill and opening speeches were starting up we spotted our darling sister at the front of the pack. She had strapped a sword to her waist. This greatly disconcerted our parents, and my father hurriedly left the stands to go and collect his daughter before she hurt herself. She did manage to go through the introductory swordfights before he managed to extract her from the situation. But whatever scolding she was about to get was delayed by the approach of the knight captain''s son, and the praise he offered for my sister''s beautiful swordplay. But my sister did not know how to wield a sword, of this I was absolutely certain. As the worries of my parents eased my own only increased.
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It would not be until our entrance into the Royal Academy several months later that I first discovered a fracture in my sister''s otherwise so thoroughly solid masque. The Royal Academy was the preeminent educational institution in the entire kingdom. A select elite of the nation''s finest prospects were allowed entrance each year and indeed even our prestigious lineage could not guarantee a spot within its honored halls. It was therefore with a great sense of pride I had entered this ancient institution. But my pride was marred by the distance I felt to my sister. She had quite taken to the social aspects of school life - aspects I could not measure up to ¨C and as she quickly ingratiated herself with the various cliques of the school I found myself in solace. I did not overly mind being a shadow in comparison to my sister but losing her company stung even with all the odd occurrences in the last few months. But even with all that had been going on I would never have been able to predict what would happen next. We had only been going to the academy for a few weeks. Spring had come and I had taken to reading in the internal courtyard of the Academy during lunch and other moments of free time. The early warmth hailed of the coming summer, the sun shone high as birds sang in the trees. As I sat pondering the tome I had selected for the afternoon ¨C a soft discourse on an ailment of the mind rendering the individual prone to hallucinations and odd delusions ¨C I spotted from one end of the garden my sister walking by, chatting idly with two girls from her new entourage. From the other end of the garden I saw what looked to be a lowborn girl, dressed in the cheaper version of the Academy uniform, dark gray with none of the usual accruements. It was not only her dress that pegged her as a lowborn, her brown hair was short in a page cut, and she walked stooped over, looking into the ground. Only half a year ago I would have expected my sister to walk past her without giving her a second glance, and even now I half expected my sister to start up an idle conversation but to my surprise neither reaction occurred. As soon as my sister spotted the woman she stopped in her tracks, an expression of shock and what I could only read as fear overtaking her. Giving her companions some quick excuse she stayed behind, and as soon as those girls turned their backs to her she hid in the shrubbery. My sister, proud, confident, and fearless, squatted down behind a bush and hid. The commoner girl walked past me, lent me a soft smile in greeting and sat down next to a nearby tree. She set up to have a light lunch in the solitary courtyard in a display I felt oddly similar to my own relaxed reading. Meanwhile my sister climbed up a window on the side of the courtyard to make a quick getaway, preferring this to being seen by the poor girl. Confounded beyond my means to express it in words I hesitated for a few minutes before standing up to approach the girl, and with a nervous wave of my hand in greeting, and with an equally nervous smile asked if I could sit down with her for a while. Carmen ¨C as was her name ¨C turned out to be a moderately interesting sort. A talented lowborn granted access to the Academy on a stipend, quite the impressive feat. Yet aside from her natural talents and high intelligence I could spot nothing that would inspire such craven behavior in my sister. Indeed her skillful nature made her appear to me as more likely to be a target of my sister, similar to those other prestigious sons she had already bound to herself across this last half a year or so. Though a lowborn woman would have little connections to the upper crust of society, and that may be the most important priority of my sister. Regardless in my loneliness I had found an interesting acquaintance, and I would come to spend a few odd evenings throughout the coming months conducting idle conversation with her. Yet my sister''s reaction could never quite leave me. Certainly my sister had never met this woman, Carmen Mores. And yet she immediately recognized her and reacted in a manner she had never done before.
My tension only continued to increase, until my eerie dread and nervous curiosity had metastasized into a near uncontrollable obsession. I needed to understand the true nature underlying her recent behavior. The half-formed and unnamed suspicions which had swirled within me for so long had grown to the point I needed a release. I needed to know.
Chapter Three
I had long observed my sister''s odd actions but now I set out to take more radical steps in my study of her. The first step I had been considering for some time, yet always thought to be too improper. Like some lowborn criminal I would sneak into her room and rummage through her things to see what I might find. I wish to assert here that under no ordinary circumstance would I go through with such an act. It was only due to the truly alien behavior of my closest relative that I even conceived of the act. Whether you take my increasing obsessive curiosity as a sign of some malign paranoia or of the heightened caution of one increasingly aware I will leave to you. I only wish to assert I held no malice in my acts. I was worried ¨C so very worried.
It would be in the early afternoon when my sister were off to school and most of the servants were having their own quiet lunch that I would breach my sister''s privacy. With a lie I expressed that I had forgotten something of import for my daily classes and would take a later horse to get to my own lessons. The way was thus clear for my clandestine deed. My sister''s room was covered in the warm light of summer, tidy and well-kept by our servants. I rummaged through her things trying to do so both quickly and without leaving a trace of my tampering. My cheeks burned with embarrassment and not a little guilt. It took a while, but hidden under her bed I found what I had been looking for. Her diary. In my hands I held a very mundane leather-bound journal with no obvious sign of its use save for its hiding location. Sitting down next to her window I started to skim through it only to be immediately confounded. A strange and alien language stared back at me. Even the alphabet was unfamiliar and incomprehensible. I could understand nothing. Grabbing my own notebook I transcribed some of the more commonly recurring characters, and then hurriedly kept flipping through the book. While my sister should be well on her way to the academy by now the servants might finish up their lunch at any moment, and I could not summon up the courage to take the book with me, should I be unable to return it. While those strange and esoteric characters were incomprehensible to me, there were a few things I could somewhat understand. Mathematical formulas in familiar notations, sketches that appeared to relate to strange scientific experiments, and various similar writings. I quickly scribbled down some more notes, trying to roughly match my sister''s sketches and then left the room after carefully returning her journal to its original hiding spot.
With the notes I took regarding my sister''s notebook I set to once more filter through the vast array of medical history I had collected to find traces of similar cases to hers. With her increasing entrenchment in the upper political crust of our small kingdom I quickly moved from merely medical case history to the political history of our realm and of those realms on the surrounding continent and soon even to the farthest reaches of our world. Soon I thought to see a most disturbing pattern emerge from the most disparate of incidents. A most dreadful discovery beckoned. If it had not been for my earlier research it would have taken me much longer to draw the appropriate conclusions but now I near immediately found traces of what I was looking for. Hints of unknown languages were scattered all across our history and world, strange runic alphabets and odd pictographs with no known linguistic heritage oft believed to be the internal ciphers of shadowy cults or otherwise fictional languages constructed for the amusement of some talented but idle scholar. However I could find only a few examples of such script in the texts I studied with the scarce fragments impossible to match to those alien glyphs I had found in my sister''s own handwriting. Any book claiming to contain a thorough discourse of such writing seemed to be a rarity with the subject as its own field far below even a niche interest of most scholars. In particular one such tome, the much maligned Iyakayan was claimed to contain otherworldly rituals and the maddening writings of a priest fallen to heresy and so had suffered censure, becoming a restricted text fit only for the most reputable of anthropologists as an object of study. But these dry and dusty tomes hinting at eerie cults lurking in the shadows and mad writings of an ancient past were not what would terrify me. Rather it was the collation of disparate knowledge from the great vista of the past and its comparison to the present times that would come to shake me to my soul. All the present conditions, the tensions at the border, the economic downturn, the hints at internal strife between the merchant class and nobility and the growing discontent of the lower classes told of a coming catastrophe. While this may seem like an obvious conclusion, it had taken me a great deal of study and internal reflection to piece it all together. I had been reading a dry article on a failed import of grains as a small break from more abstract linguistic studies when I realized it had likely not been an accident as described, but rather sabotage either from the neighboring country or from one of our own trade houses trying to weaken a competitor.
This small revelation in itself would tell me little but from it I could see all other recent incidents with new eyes. It was as if I no longer gazed at a long distant past, divorced and separated from present times but instead a clear and all encompassing plain that stretched out unhindered in all directions, a direct continuance of times I had tough we had all since long left behind us. A war was coming - a great and terrible conflict ¨C I could not tell if it would start as an external invasion from our neighbor or if we would fall into a civil conflict but ultimately it would not matter. The conflict would quickly spread to neighboring countries and perhaps even farther beyond. A great and terrible conflagration set to sweep across the continent. And out of coincidence my sister had placed herself to have her fingertips on every piece that could hope to tilt the outcome whichever way. What absolute cunning, what impossible genius, what terrible foresight. Just as so many other strange eccentrics have done across the history of our world
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I needed to find that tome of dreadful knowledge hinted at by so many outcast scholars and fringe researchers ¨C maligned, of ill repute, many even considered insane ¨C and yet in the throes of my own obsession I found the perspectives they expressed in the few fragmented writings I had access to most understandable.
Needing someone to confide in and with our growing friendship and with the continued efforts my sister made in order to avoid her Miss Carmen seemed like the best ¨C if only ¨C choice I had. I did not tell her everything, not even most of what I had been doing. I simply spoke with her about my recent studies, and when I saw her genuine interest I mentioned several of the books I had been unable to find. It did not take her a moment to bring up the archives within the Royal Academy, mentioning the locked section with restricted texts. Both those tomes so old that careless handling might damage them and those whose contents were controversial enough the royal house saw fit to limit peoples access to them. The text I was searching for was likely to be in both those categories. So far had my obsession gone that I scarcely hesitated when receiving this information, and near immediately decided to obtain the tome one way or the other. While I initially considered simply requesting access to the book ¨C citing my fine lineage and spotless academic record ¨C I quickly discarded the idea. No matter what my scholarly accomplishments or noble blood I remained a first year student, and even if by some miracle I were to be granted access it would be in a most limited fashion, in brief periods and likely under supervision. No, I would have to commit theft. If discovered I would shame both myself, my family and my lineage. My arms trembled at the thought, yet in my heart I could find no doubt. It took me only a few days to both verify that the book truly was in the Academy''s possession and to prepare for my crime.
While I worked, my sister kept to her daily routine, seemingly ignorant of the intense looks I¡¯d give her whenever I thought she wasn¡¯t aware of me. She remained a strange and unspoken mystery, down to the smallest bits of her movements. She had formed a pseudo-court of sorts around herself in the form of the student council with everyone of her more prestigious targets up to and including the crown prince a part of it. And while he was ostensibly the chairman there could be little doubt who among them was truly pulling the strings. I could only shudder at the thought and continue on the path I had committed myself to.
The archives may be under lock and key but the Academy held no real expectation that they would be robbed. As far as I could tell from my admittedly inexperienced perspective the security was light. Guards were posted mostly around the Academy perimeter with only a handful of patrols across the institution. The tome would be behind only two locks, the small iron gate separating the restricted section from the main library, and then the individual lock on the specific shelf containing the tome. For the first lock I simply waited for someone else to walk out of the restricted section ¨C a not overly uncommon event ¨C and as soon as their backs were turned walked past them before the iron-barred door could fully close. Inside the archives I located the specific shelf while avoiding the few other visitors. With my heart hammering in my chest I got past the second lock by inserting a small set of pliers I had brought with me and snapping the small metal latch that kept it secure. The sound felt deafening to me but no one came running. It was short work to stuff the book into my backpack, replace it with a similar tome I¡¯d taken from the public parts of the library and then place the lock back into a seemingly untouched position. I then exited the restricted archives ¨C the iron door could always be opened from the inside - and exited the library proper. I made sure to borrow a few books to stuff into my backpack to make it seem less conspicuous. Ultimately it was far easier than I would have thought, though at the time it was enormously anxiety inducing and scary. The theft would at some point be discovered, but it would likely take some time as that part of the restricted area saw little use. Whenever the lost tome was discovered they would have little ability to trace it back to me. That same evening ¨C with an equal measure of shame and pride I cracked the book open. Written in an archaic form of our language, and with quite the dense and complicated content it took me many evenings of study to start deciphering it. It spoke of spaces beyond the boundaries of the mundane world, of strange people and strange languages. Of the Anglaise and Napaneise, of the Kiukakken and of the Aelch. Of concepts and theories I could barely fathom, until finally I had that most dreadful of revelations. An unutterable terror settled within my mind, and scarcely bothering to hide the tome I rushed out of my room.
Chapter Four
I needed to confront my sister. While I remain confident in the integrity of my own mind, if there was a point during my investigations where I was no longer fully rational it would be at that specific hour. With the recent revelations swirling within me I hasted through the seemingly unending corridors of the mansion, desperately searching for her, hoping that her mere presence might cast away those inflamed shadows that had so gripped my heart. I rushed through the corridors searching for my sister. The candles cast shadows playing a grotesque dance across the walls of our manor. Outside the setting sun slowly cast the deep pines surrounding the manor into darkness. The cool summer evening swept into our house but a gloom hung over Castiel manor that evening, a gloom I could not dispel. I flung open the doors to the main hall and swept a desperate gaze across the room. There she was, my sister. I saw her and my heart sank. The crown prince was with her. Visiting our manor at such a late hour. He kneeled in front of her, offering her a ring of solid gold. With a giggle and tears of joy in her eyes, she accepted. My own sister. I backed away from that scene, turned and fled that room. I found an empty place to slip away to and sat down next to the wall and trembled.
There was nothing left. I finally understood. She would not stop. Her vision had extended to times and spaces far beyond what any one of us had ever dared to peer into. She was set and ready. She would drag our country into that cataclysm that steadily grew in some soon to be manifest future. Not my own flesh and blood, not my family, but That Thing That Had Inhabited my most darling sister would stand with her fingers stretched deep into the very heart of our realm. But before I could even begin to conceive of what to do next I heard the servants shout for me and I was called down into the main dining hall.
At no point in my life have I had a more awful and strenuous time than that very same evening, during our large family dinner. To pretend that we were still a family. To watch the fawning looks of my parents at That Thing Which Inhabits, overjoyed at the power and prestige she had brought to their house. Wholly unaware of its true nature, of it being an outsider, an alien thing from worlds unknown. What could I possibly say to convince them? Nothing, there was nothing. They would sooner think me mad. It took every ounce of my will to not let go of myself and let out the most horrified wailing scream yet no one seemed at all aware of my inner turmoil. I kept my outward expressions under the strictest control, my face set in a mask as if made of porcelain. I felt like porcelain, cold and pale as if all my blood had left my face. Still no one noticed and I heard myself ¨C my own voice ¨C offer pleasantries and congratulations to the coming marriage between That Thing and the crown prince. All the while my feverish mind ran wild. Was this detached feeling how my sister felt? Had That Thing trapped her within her own body, made a jail out of my sister''s own self? Was she aware? Had she been screaming and wailing inside, begging her parents, her family, me, anyone to hear her? Or had she been cast away from her own self like some rag, passed away in that terrible fever without even a funeral, no priest to read her rites, no memorial service, no prayers for her soul? I neither knew nor was there any way I could know. I needed a way to stop That Thing. Whatever the coming future would hold, whether she¡¯d bring us triumph or disaster, I needed to stop her. Whatever her true motives, this creature, this alien thing, whether demonic, angelic, or otherworldly, That Thing That Inhabits had still taken my sister from me. For one terrible moment, I considered a most brutal act. But whatever the mind that now possessed it, it was still the body and face of my sister. I could not bring myself to hurt her. I knew that even if I summoned the courage, once I saw her face any will to go through with such an act would leave me. I am sure if my sister had been in my place she would have had the courage, but I was simply not as strong as her. But vengeance lay in the history of our house, and the need for vengeance coursed deep in my blood. It did not leave me. I could feel it smolder in my heart with each beat. The iron that lay at the core of my self was now set to a slow flow stoked by that unrelenting fire. Whatever her plans were, I needed to hamper her. Somehow, the dinner ended and with a weak smile and an apology ¨C citing some temporary bout of weariness ¨C I returned to my room, collapsing into my bed as I held down my tears.
No matter how much I pondered, I could see little I could do to weaken That Thing Which Inhabits political positions. From matters of governance, economy, and military, she had them all wrapped around her fingers. Recently I had heard she had gone so far as to approach the young high priest, opening up a road into the church. To my knowledge there was only one person whom she feared and oddly one with no real power. And so I once again made my way to confide to Miss Carmen. To this day I am not sure exactly what I meant to tell her but as it happened I had scarcely sat down in her private room in the Academy dorms before I broke down in tears and confessed all things to her. As she served me tea and sought to console me, I fully believed she would either dismiss my claims as the mad ravings of one clearly suffering a breakdown, perhaps chase me out of her room or even inform my family. Instead she believed me. Shocking as that was, it seemed that she had some insights as to my sister¡¯s condition that when added to my own conclusions regarding That Thing Which Inhabits softened whatever natural skepticism would ordinarily arise from such extraordinary claims. Attempting to provide me with a measure of relief she pointed out that whatever this entity was it must still be bound to some laws of magic and nature, perhaps unknown - perhaps merely unheard of - and suggested we look into the possibility of exorcising whatever creature had come to Inhabit my sister''s body. Hope now welled up inside me, like cool water to temper my anger and strengthen my determination. I took the tome Iyakayan over to her room that same evening and together we set out to research its most arcane theories.
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It would take us many weeks of steadfast research before we unlocked anything of use. During that period That Thing Which Inhabits seemed to think little of us, so busy she was with her own preparations for her wedding and whatever great cataclysm of war and horror that still brewed just beyond the horizon. Myself I could think of little else but the arcane theories outlined in the Iyakayan. If it were not for Carmen¡¯s gentle insistence I would have neglected my mundane studies entirely. As it were my grades still dropped significantly much to the concern and scolding of my parents. It stung but while I found I still loved them dearly ¨C even though I perceived them as having grievously failed their oldest daughter ¨C I found I could no longer respect them in the manner I used to. With my continued misbehavior ¨C and with the reasons behind that misbehavior left unsaid ¨C a rift grew between me and the rest of the family. This would continue until the end of the summer when we finally grasped enough of the theories of otherworldly boundaries to formulate a banishment ritual. We would cast out That Thing Which Inhabits from the known world and back to whatever set of unknown space it had originated and hopefully ¨C so be it a small hope ¨C summon the spirit of my sister from that same space back into her original body. Carmen seemed scared and nervous at the prospect but after some hesitation she agreed to help me.
Our land contains many ruins and abandoned structures from times long past, and it was one such structure that I selected as the most fitting for our attempt. An old stone temple, quite a bit into the forest but still accessible from the manor by a few hours on horseback. That solemn gray structure stood perched on a small hill, overlooking the middle of a glen. Once one or two hundred years ago it must have been close to some small village or loggery but whatever people had once inhabited that area the forest had long since reclaimed their humble dwellings. Only the temple remained a solitary reminder of what had once been. Its windows were simple stone structures, open to the outside. It was a building meant for ceremonies, not habitation. It should do well. It took many days to prepare for the ritual, smuggling candles and incense out to that temple, meticulously drawing in marker-chalk the most intricate ritual circle I¡¯d ever devised on that cold stone floor, and memorizing every syllable of the necessary incantations to memory, burning it into my mind to the point where I worried about chanting in my sleep. But after many stressful days and evenings the ritual was finally ready.
All that remained was to bring That Thing Which Inhabits to the building so that the ritual might start. As a respite from the wedding preparations I invited her for a short ride through the woods and a picnic. My sister''s face shone back at me with a joy that was not hers and readily accepted. Only two guards accompanied us. The wilds around the manor were safe, any danger was inconceivable. That Thing Which Inhabits chatted idly as we rode, speaking of seemingly meaningless pleasantries but with the knowledge of her true nature I could see past her words. I perceived her intent as clear as day. The subtle questions to gauge my response, the furtive glances to check my reactions. The subjects were carefully selected to match what she thought I¡¯d want to hear. She worked on me like she had so many others, likely had worked on me since the time she woke up in my sister''s body. I could only thank whatever stroke of fortune or divine blessing that had rendered me resistant to her manipulations. As we sat down to have our picnic I handed both guards my own specially prepared sandwiches. An odd gesture from me in particular but they both dutifully ate of them. So far had my blood been set to steel at this point that I felt no shame in becoming a poisoner and as the guards fell asleep I grabbed my sister''s body by her neck and forced a rag soaked in potent sedative over her mouth. I had stolen both the sedative and the sleeping drugs from the Academy''s alchemical lab, a theft I was certain would be discovered far sooner than the lost tome Iyakayan. Fully set on my chosen course I checked the breathing of both the guards and my sister''s body. They all seemed stable. The dosages had been correct.
With strenuous effort I tied up my sister and dragged her to the horses. It took three attempts before I managed to lift her up and place her over her saddle. Not letting my aching arms or the shortage of my breath deter me I mounted my own horse and holding the lead rope of my sister''s horse I rode onward towards the temple. Carmen met me there worry written all over her face and helped me carry That Thing Which Inhabits into the central chamber where we carefully laid her down in the ritual circle. As we did she groaned and started to wake, groggy but with increasing alertness. Carmen gave me a last scared look and headed out to grab her own horse and ride away. She was to keep herself at the edge of the forest and should our disappearances be noticed she was to lead any search party astray. While the stone temple was secluded it was by no means unknown and my family employed many skilled woodsmen and well-trained hunting dogs. I had little doubt they could find it eventually if given time. I started the ritual by double-checking that my sister''s body was securely tied down and by starting to light candles placed all around the room in a highly specific order. As my sister woke up fully an endless string of questions and pleading started. I kept quiet. She asked me what I was doing, and why, and she pleaded with me, cited our familiar bonds, pushed herself into the role of my sister yet she was nothing like her. I had been a fool to ever fall for this twisted facade. I kept silent least any retort of mine would snap the leash I held tightly on my anger. As I started the chants it became easier to focus. Magic was always a costly prospect and as I chanted small pieces of my soul started to disintegrate and the released power flowed into the ritual circle causing it to glow in an ethereal blue. Should I let too much of myself fall into that ritual circle the damage to myself would become permanent if not fatal. I kept chanting, sparing only a thought that I should have gagged That Thing Which Inhabits and that I was lucky it had not displayed some unknown ability that might have let it disturb my attempt to exorcise it.
Chapter Five
For hours I kept chanting - weaving time and space into a most intricate pattern - linking two worlds together and starting the construction of a gate between them.
And then that final tragedy struck. The sound of horses galloping into the glen. The pounding on the door, screams and shouts to open. Desperately, I sought to finalize the ritual as the crown prince himself climbed in through the window, sword in hand, eyes full of courage and wrath. I attempted to divert some small amount of power to form whatever makeshift barrier I could but it was far too late. He struck me with the flat of his blade, sending me careening to the floor as he stepped into the circle ¨C breaking my carefully woven and inscribed formula ¨C and dragged That Thing Which Inhabits out of the temple as the ritual collapsed into a chaotic end. I took the brunt of the backlash. I will never forget that blinding lightning, that thunderous noise, and that anguished pain as the energies I¡¯d wielded ran out of control. I lost much of myself that evening, memories of my early childhood, most of the feeling on the right side of my face, parts of my soul permanently damaged, and any hope of saving my sister was gone from me. We had been so close. Yet as the guards of my own house pulled me away from that crumbling chamber all I could do was scream, tears streaming down my face. I had failed her.
The aftermath of that dark day should have been dreadful but all I could feel was numbness. As they brought me back to Castiel Manor, what followed was my fall from grace and status. My parents were horrified by my actions and continued to be so as the rest of my crimes were discovered. The kidnapping of my supposed sister. The poisoning of her and the guards. Pursuit of forbidden magic. Pursuit of heretical knowledge. Theft of alchemical drugs and theft of a rare and restricted text. I tried to tell them my reasons - not truly to convince them ¨C I merely felt dead inside. I no longer cared what they thought of me. And in the end they only thought me mad. I do not know what strings my father pulled at the Academy but I faced no charges from them. I was merely expelled to the great shame of my family. The crimes I had committed within my father¡¯s domain were his to prosecute and so I faced no charges for those either. Instead I was confined to my room in a house arrest with no set end. My parents sent me doctors to prod and poke at me, in the vain hope that they would find a way to return me to what they perceived as sanity. If only I could.
In the first few days of my confinement, Carmen came by. A small hope I did not know that I still possessed flared up for a moment ¨C only to be immediately crushed. She tried to convince me of the righteousness of her actions and I realized she had betrayed me. That day of the ritual, far from leading the prince and the guards astray her heart had faltered and she had led them right to me. The guilt was written on her face. I thought I could no longer feel but this still stung. I had lost my only confidant. But worse still, while her initial betrayal must have been a matter of misplaced conscience, a doubt towards the true nature of the creature we were exorcising, and ultimately a lack of trust in me, in the days after her betrayal That Thing Which Inhabits must have come for her. She spoke of That Thing Which Inhabits with genuine sympathy. She expressed the virtues of that thing that had impersonated my sister, stressed the righteousness of her character. Like all others around me Carmen ¨C my sole friend and companion ¨C had been bewitched by her. And with this the victory of That Thing Which Inhabits was absolute. As the wedding bell rang and the kingdom celebrated, the church declared her a living saintess, a blessed gift sent from the heavens. The country was hers to do with as she wished.
My house arrest stretched on for endless days. The servants that came by grew thinner over the coming weeks and months, until only a handful of somber and quiet individuals remained. They spoke little with me, avoiding meeting my eyes except to give me looks of pity. A few rumors still trickle into my now closed world. I had been left here as the ¡¯Madwoman of the Saintess¡¯, her fallen sister. I heard little else of the outside, mere whispers of building chaos. Subtle clues in the harried looks of my once servants ¨C now captors ¨C hinted at the building calamity. I cared not for it. It was no longer within my reach to hinder.
Regularly That Thing Which Inhabits came to visit, pleading with me to recant the truth I had learned about her, to join her, still seeking to bewitch me. Her failure to subjugate me in this manner must have disturbed her greatly because she never ceased her visitations. It made sense as she had won the hearts of all others to come into her path. Yet I steadfastly refused, mocking the very thought she were my sister. I thought I could see the fear on her face, even now, even with her victory complete. But I might have been mistaken, perhaps it was some other unnamed emotion, an expression of worry, or of sadness. And whatever little satisfaction my continued defiance afforded me it could not redeem me for my own failures. Only an increasing despair ate away at my heart and my world. Had it not been for that remaining sliver of defiance I might have lost myself entirely ¨C fashioned a small rope of what was available within my room ¨C or sharpened the letter knife, or some other terrible thing. Instead I only fell deeper into that all-consuming grayness. And then it grew too large. One morning it was as if a small candle had been lit. I went near immediately from my months of most lethargic apathy to one of frenzied activity. I would not end myself while that Thing Which Inhabits still lived, but I could no longer remain here. I needed to escape.
The summer had long since fallen into autumn and autumn had just begun to fade into winter. As I sat at my window and gazed out at the falling snow I plotted my escape. The cold always seeped into the manor at this time of year and so I had plenty of warm clothes and blankets I could bring with me, and while I had not used them for months I had my shoes as well. As no one sat with me while I ate it would be a simple matter to save up rations for a day or two and while the door was locked I was only on the third floor. I should be able to escape through the window. Once I reached the neighboring domain I could ask for refuge if necessary, though if possible I¡¯d rather keep running. Once I was far enough away that no one would know of me I could only pray that I would find some employment through my literacy and the modest education I still possessed from my good upbringing. The alternative was too dreadful to think about.
It took me a few nights to make my preparations but then I finally stashed what little I needed in a knapsack, fashioned a makeshift rope out of my bed sheets, opened a window and slipped out. The height seemed so much larger than when standing on the ground outside, but I gritted my teeth and set to climb down. I carefully clung to that rope until I was only a few meters above the ground. I dropped the last distance, slipping and falling onto my back but the snow helped dampen the fall. I stood up, gazing at the dark garden, my heart beating fast. It was an odd sensation to be outside for the first time in months but I could hardly relax. I could be discovered at any moment. I made my way to the stable and retrieved my horse, patting him on the back and feeding him a few cubes of sugar I¡¯d stashed away for just this occasion. It was good to see him again. I saddled him and started to lead him out of the stable when disaster struck. The doors swung open and That Thing Which Inhabits stood in the doorway with an expression of absolute surprise. She wore her riding clothes. To this day I know not of what clandestine nightly expedition she intended to set out on and I care little to speculate. With no hesitation I swung into my saddle and set my horse to run. She threw herself to the side as I rode past her and barreled down toward the forest. She screamed my name as I ran but I gave her no thought. I felt the wind on my face for the first time in months and joy welled up inside of me. The snow lay heavy on the ground amidst the pine trees. The moon was young. I made my way deeper, only vaguely knowing where I was going, driven on by my need to get away. I moved steadily through the forest not at an all-out gallop but as quickly as I dared to press my horse.
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My ears tensed as I sought out any sign of pursuers. It took some time but as I rode on towards the edge of our territory I thought to perceive behind me a faint light in the darkness. Soon it grew to clear torchlight and I knew the manor guards were after me. I hurried on my horse, trying to gain what distance I could. As the lights grew stronger the terrain grew treacherous, uneven. Finally I had reached that hill-strewn precipice that marked our territory''s southeast border. Forced to abandon my horse I gave him a last hug and a pat, knowing he would easily find his way back to the manor. The poor thing looked exhausted but he gave me a friendly nudge as if he could sense my worries. I set out to make my way up the hillside. It was good we were only in the early weeks of winter or the snow would have laid far too heavy. As it was I still sank down to my knees as I struggled to make way. As snow and stones hindered my path I could hear the shouts of my pursuers. They must have found my horse. I ran through the snow, my lungs burning with the cold winter air. The barking of frenzied dogs and the shouts of angry guards could be heard from a distance. But finally I reached the top, standing on top of a large cliff, looking down across our neighboring lord''s country. If I could make my way down that cliff I doubt my pursuers would dare to follow. I would be free. But no, this was not to be. As I crested the cliff and tried to make my way to the side the heavy snow betrayed me, my footing breaking apart and sending me careening off the edge. Desperately grasping I found no grip on anything but the cold snow as I fell. For a moment I hoped to hit the soft snow - to survive the fall - but then I merely closed my eyes and accepted my end.
And that brings us to the current day. I did not die that day. I woke up in a strange and alien place. As I regained consciousness, I felt a surface like damp and uneven stone. That dampness felt odd to me as it was supposed to be winter. My eyes fluttered open and an unfamiliar place greeted me. It was evening, and it must have rained recently because the ground was still wet. I laid in the middle of a road - a road of such a construction I had never seen. I could hear a loud noise I did not recognize moving away from me at speed and as I attempted to stand a pain shot through me and I fell back onto the ground. I must have broken my leg. Clutching it while groaning I took a deep breath and once more looked around me. There were buildings along the road in a strange and dismal architecture, featureless fronts and barely a garden fit for a commoner. As I peered down the road, a city stretched out before me but a city like no other I had ever seen. Thousands of lights shone steadfast in the dark night, like a sea of fallen stars. I could run no further. Around me people gathered dressed in the most ridiculous of clothes, skin tight and thin textiles with oddly bright patterns across their chests. I found that I could pick out those patterns and even comprehend the words they spelled out. One of the people surrounding me pressed something to his ear and spoke loudly and as I listened I found I was starting to understand the language he spoke. Unfamiliar and unwanted knowledge started to press into my mind ¨C flashes of a past that was not mine. I desperately suppressed the thoughts, pushing them back down into some unseen subconscious sea deep within myself as my heart started to beat with an unnameable fear. One of the people sat with me and while I could only partially understand his words I understood that they were calling for help, that I had been hit by something, something that had quickly fled the scene. In just a few moments a large vehicle flashing esoteric lights in an impossible blue color arrived on the scene. The occupants wearing yellow colored clothes made of unknown materials exited the vehicle and helped load me into it. As they laid me down on some internal bed within that vehicle I found the word I had been looking for ¨C mirror ¨C and one of the people attending me handed me one. She told me not to worry, that my face was fine. But it was not my face. A strange young woman I had never seen before stared back at me. I had become the same as that shadow of my sister, I had become A Thing Which Inhabits. My scream cut through the night. For some time afterward I was bereft of my rationality.
They sent me ¨C understandable considering the circumstances, though tragic in an ironic fashion ¨C to their madhouse. Yet it is not bad here. I have more space than during my house arrest. I am allowed to go outside regularly, though mostly to the internal courtyard. The sun is still nice. The servants here are kind. There is pity, but there is also sympathy. And I no longer need to meet with that Thing Which Inhabits. This must have been her world. Not some strange and alien creature then ¨C a human ¨C albeit a malicious and uncaring sort, bent on amassing power, fueled by dark ambitions, manipulative and ruthless. But that is past me now, and what happens to her, and with the world that so readily accepted her, is no longer my concern.
I am allowed small luxuries. I have quite taken to painting. Though my subjects are oft gloomy and overly abstract I find some measure of peace within the act. It helps me set my mind at ease. They also give me generous access to books on an impressive variety of subjects. A necessity as I keep the memories of this poor girl which I''ve come to inhabit suppressed as best as I am able. Flashes of her former life still intrudes upon me, in particular in the deep night as I sleep. At first I refused to sleep as a result of this, but over time I''ve managed to suppress it enough I can now sleep mostly undisturbed. I¡¯ve refused to impersonate her, to lie to her supposed family and in response her family has estranged me, much like my own did. I do not know the exact context, but the few interactions I had with her relatives have been grievously negative. They appear not only impoverished, but quite crude and aggressive. I have to admit that I myself was not in the best state of mind when I first met them, and we quickly came to words with each other. It seems that the poor girl - whose name I have refused to claim as my own - ran from her home much as I did mine, and it was then she met her own calamity, as I did mine. But it is good that their daughter is dead to them - though I suspect she might have come to inhabit my real body. If we match in so many other ways, why not in this? I pray for her, though only because I can do nothing else. Even if the odds are against her, I pray she finds her way.
I have not looked much into returning to my own body, and indeed I do not know how. Magic here seems scarce and the few experiment''s I''ve done in those directions have so far met with failure. I still can feel the energy of my soul, but only faintly, and most of it around those wounds I still carry with me. Instead the doctor I regularly speak with has encouraged my small hobbies, helped bring me both paints and books, encouraged my studies, and recently even encouraged me to write, therefore this very journal. They do not believe my story, but they also do not hold me in contempt. It has meant quite a lot to me, more than I thought it would.
No, this is by far not the worst place to be.
Some time after I finished the above writings an incident occurred. I was supposed to visit my doctor for one of our regular conversations but was asked to wait outside. A large argument of some kind unfolded itself, I could not hear the words but I could hear the voices. A stern and sharp tone from one end, and the frustrated voice of my doctor from the other. After some time I was asked to return to the common area. I stayed there for a while ¨C idly switching between painting and skimming through a small text on mathematical puzzles I¡¯d recently obtained, not truly managing to concentrate on either activity ¨C and then a nurse brought me a visitor. A woman I''d never seen before. She was short of stature and had her hair cut neatly to the point it only reached just above her shoulders. A fair face, slightly older than me. She looked at me with a familiar gaze, and she had a proud bearing in her movements that were at odds with her commoner appearance. We only spoke briefly, but I knew her well. She told me about her life here. She has found work in some administrative capacity within one of the businesses in the region. She tells me she has worked with them for a little over a year now. This income afforded her a small apartment not too far from the central parts of the city. She has invited me to live with her and I have accepted. With my condition considered stable enough for me to function outside of this institution - and with a stable place for me to live in secured - I will be checked out of this place by the end of the weekend.
For the first time in well over a year ¨C in a strange and alien world that I have never known ¨C still, I will be at home.