Emmelié
01-19-2009, 10:47 AM
Night had finally fallen over the Darkéwood estate, leaving the corridors in an eerie silence. The servants had retired to their quaters, the Master and Mistress in their rooms. Lanterns lit the passageways, creating shadows that danced as if they were alive. A hushed breeze blew through cracked windows, billowing the long, silk drapes which hid a small, conniving child. The air picked at her crimson tresses, whipping them gently against her face, tickling her nose. Angrily, she batted them away, tucking her hair safely behind her ears. Peeking from around the curtain she checked for any signs of life before she crept quietly from behind.
Small, bare feet made little to no sound as she hastily made her way to her parent's door. Something had been amiss in their house and though she was young, she was by no means stupid. As gently as she could manage, Emmelié pressed one ear against the door, straining to hear the hushed whispered from the other side.
"You cannot keep it, Enema. I relented on the girl, but I will not this time."
A quiet sob came after, her mother's nearly silent voice pleading. "Malfious, you cannot possibly make me get rid of it! That is unspeakable and not to mention out right cruel. We bring the Light to those who cannot find it for themselves, we are Holy. How could you possibly even suggest such a thing?"
A harsh laugh followed, her father's voice threatening. "You will not question me, Enema, that is an order. I will not have another child running around here, messing up our plans, eating us out of money and home! We have worked hard for this and I will not see it go to waste over some snot nosed children."
Emmelié pulled her ear from the door and covered her mouth quickly, hushing the cry that threatened to spill from her lips. 'So mother is having another baby?... But why would daddy be so angry?' It didn't make sense to her. Wasn't that what people wanted? Families, children to live on and carry their name? What could have made her father so... dark? Gaining her composure, she pressed her small ear against the wood once more, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
"How dare you speak in such a manner. You act as if we do not have enough money to feed them and ourselves. We could have ten children and still be just as wealthy as we were before. Is this what it's about? The money? Malfious, I can see the shadows in your eyes... I know what is happening to you and I pray to the Gods you find the strength to over come it..." A few broken words followed, quiet sobs filling the room.
"...and I am keeping this baby. It would take all the monsters in the world to keep me from doing so."
As if a veil had been lifted, her father's voice was as she was used to hearing it, compassionate, sincere. "I-I am sorry, Enema... I've been trying to get ahold of myself... it's just..." A quiet sigh filled the air, footsteps falling against the stone floor. "I'm sorry."
Emmelié leaned her back against the door, sliding down to sit on the floor. Pulling her knees into her chest, she held herself. Though she didn't quite understand what was happening, she knew someone who would, someone who could help her. Standing quickly, Emmelié ran into her own room, shutting the door as quietly as she could. Tomorrow she would call on a friend, someone who would be more than willing to help, but tonight she would sleep and hope she didn't dream.
Small, bare feet made little to no sound as she hastily made her way to her parent's door. Something had been amiss in their house and though she was young, she was by no means stupid. As gently as she could manage, Emmelié pressed one ear against the door, straining to hear the hushed whispered from the other side.
"You cannot keep it, Enema. I relented on the girl, but I will not this time."
A quiet sob came after, her mother's nearly silent voice pleading. "Malfious, you cannot possibly make me get rid of it! That is unspeakable and not to mention out right cruel. We bring the Light to those who cannot find it for themselves, we are Holy. How could you possibly even suggest such a thing?"
A harsh laugh followed, her father's voice threatening. "You will not question me, Enema, that is an order. I will not have another child running around here, messing up our plans, eating us out of money and home! We have worked hard for this and I will not see it go to waste over some snot nosed children."
Emmelié pulled her ear from the door and covered her mouth quickly, hushing the cry that threatened to spill from her lips. 'So mother is having another baby?... But why would daddy be so angry?' It didn't make sense to her. Wasn't that what people wanted? Families, children to live on and carry their name? What could have made her father so... dark? Gaining her composure, she pressed her small ear against the wood once more, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
"How dare you speak in such a manner. You act as if we do not have enough money to feed them and ourselves. We could have ten children and still be just as wealthy as we were before. Is this what it's about? The money? Malfious, I can see the shadows in your eyes... I know what is happening to you and I pray to the Gods you find the strength to over come it..." A few broken words followed, quiet sobs filling the room.
"...and I am keeping this baby. It would take all the monsters in the world to keep me from doing so."
As if a veil had been lifted, her father's voice was as she was used to hearing it, compassionate, sincere. "I-I am sorry, Enema... I've been trying to get ahold of myself... it's just..." A quiet sigh filled the air, footsteps falling against the stone floor. "I'm sorry."
Emmelié leaned her back against the door, sliding down to sit on the floor. Pulling her knees into her chest, she held herself. Though she didn't quite understand what was happening, she knew someone who would, someone who could help her. Standing quickly, Emmelié ran into her own room, shutting the door as quietly as she could. Tomorrow she would call on a friend, someone who would be more than willing to help, but tonight she would sleep and hope she didn't dream.