Prelude There I was standing in the one place I never thought I would see again, and truth be known hadn’t wanted to for the ten years. Still didn’t. I looked back down the hall toward Daemyn, my Godfather. He was staring out the front window waiting, like there was something coming. Or, was I mistaking this for the look, maybe for a man who just lost the only woman he’d ever loved, my mother. Anyway, the place looked smaller than I remembered. Spose’ that’s cus I’m bigger now, much bigger than I was last time I entered. Even the hall was narrow and the pull down stairs to the attic filled it from wall to wall. I pulled on the rope. Dust avalanched onto me making me sneeze. “Great!” I scoffed, slapping dirt from my shoulders, arms, and stomach, eventually giving up. “Remind me why I came here again…”He didn’t even look my way he just grunted, “You promised your mother.” “Hmmpf.” The only reply I could muster. The creaking sound of the unfolding ladder kinda’ made me nervous. I reached up and tested a few of steps; trying to assure myself I wouldn’t fall back on my ass as I climbed. Poking my head slightly above the floor boards to see if there were any vermin lurking about, I saw nothing but boxes and more dirt. Of course the lack of illumination didn’t help matters. There was one dim stream of light coming from an octagonal vent window on the far end of the room that cast shadow stripes on the Northeast wall, and a single bulb hanging at the end of a wire from the ceiling in the center of the room. At the moment the light was off. I felt along the wall as I ascended until I recognize the familiar plastic plate and center that turned the bulb on. “Sweet.” Because I didn’t have to go back down to hunt down a lone bulb and re-climb and replace before beginning my death bed assignment. The death bed was my mother’s and the assignment was to locate the trunk in the attic that held the book, whatever the heck that meant. Anyway I had to find it and read it. “Note to self…next time someone gives you a death bed assignment, cross your fingers behind your back when you answer.” As I wallowed in self pity I searched for the elusive trunk. Row upon row of boxes lined both long walls of the room, marked with words barely legible with age and soot. I walked crouched like old woman so as not to bump her head on the sloped ceiling. One box said “Comforter”, prying off the top that revealed a singed coverlet. Its’ hand woven yarns formed a gorgeous, though scorched, native Indian design. Pulling it from the box I examined the white and tan fibers sprayed with gold metallic threads scattered throughout. I rolled it into a tube and placed it on the floor. Looking down the long row, my eyes came to rest upon a pine box, completely out of place in a sea of cardboard. “That’s gotta’ be it.” I grabbed the roll from floor and marched toward the treasure trove. Sitting down atop the tube in front of the chest; I cleared it of cob webs. I ran my hands along the stained and polished pine, over the brass handles, and brass latch plate. From my purse I fetched the key, inserted it into the lock and turned it. Mystically, a light shown from the gem adorning the key head, the lock tumbled to the floor. “Careful,” I whispered. I opened the chest and waved away the cloud of age that escaped as the pressure released it into the air with a “swooshhhhhh”. The first to come out was a large knife. The handle embellished with colored, shiny gems that mated the key, attached to a short, three sided blade. After placing it on the blanket my hands dove back into the box. Wrapping around something a bit bigger, my eyes opened wide when they caught sight of a tooled silver goblet again adorned with identical sapphires, rubies, and emeralds. Etched in a circle around the rim was writing I didn’t understand; foreign perhaps. Reaching down deeper I felt cloth, soft, luxurious, velour like. I brought up a dress hung on a satin hanger, aged but beautiful in simplicity. White though slightly discolored now, lace at the collar and cuffs. Hanging over it with care was a bonnet and apron to match. The apron splattered with kitchen work and bonnet missing a strap. Finally, the clothing uncovered what I had been looking for. Lying at the bottom of the chest was a rather significant, weighted leather bound book. Lifting it with care I removed it gingerly so as not to tear the already deteriorating binding. I wiped away settled dirt. The leather was tooled with the same strange lettering. “Is est substantia unus Sophisma Offensus”. “Hmmm.” It looks like Latin, guess I need to brush up. “God help me if it’s all written in Latin.” And then, I opened the book. I read the page of introduction, becoming aware that miniscule buds of light were beginning to dance a soft flowing ballet all around me. Starting from the book now lying in my lap, spiraling around my waist, chest the tiny lights soon surrounded my head. Then without warning the lights they slammed right into me, soaking into my head. I fell back onto the floor, every little bit of light entering, there was no pain, I didn’t make a sound. I was frozen in place. After what felt like hours, in reality minutes, I sat back up straight, turned to a miscellaneous page in the book and began to read: “Ut tractare et alica vos musat sequens ingredious quod utor et exigo formacato. Operor non inflecto ex perfectus of instrcatos. Efficio sic addo sepulchrum harmius. To perform this spell you must have the following ingredients and use this exact formula. Do not sway from the exactness of the instructions. To do so would bring grave consequence.” “Oh my God!” I grabbed my mouth. “How…? What the…?” I slammed the book shut, shaking, eyes searching the air like I would find the answer floating in front of me explaining what just happened. How could I know that? How could I even pronounce it? Now what? What do I do? Yell for Daemyn? “Dae…!!” I quickly recanted. “Shhhh..it’s ok, calm down. I felt ok, but, I needed to take the book down and out of the house. Maybe back to my hotel room. I would be safe there I thought. “Jus’ need to think this through, that’s all.”
Posted on: Fri, 09 Aug 2013 20:57:47 +0000