This Gothic World

Irene

It was dark when Irene finally opened her eyes. Everything was a bit too hazy at first but it all worked out at the end when she adjusted her vision. Where was she? What happened?

Questions swarmed her head as she slowly tried to sit up but fell again to the floor which was cold now after she found her senses returning. The moonlight was filtering into the place full of concrete walls and a set of bars locked her in.

Irene felt chains all over her body as she tried to adjust herself to the discomfort of her current situation. It was all so—unknown. To her, it seemed like a dream but then again—when had she understood reality?

Irene couldn’t grip the fact which was she woke up inside of a musty old dungeon with haystacks and manure stink. Moreover, she was chained to herself with unbreakable stuff.

But what if you used magic?

Irene’s brain just backfired again as she gave out an exasperated sigh. No, she couldn’t use magic. Firstly because she wasn’t old magus blood and owned no magic. Secondly, she knew nothing else but divine words to cast magic.

But you do know you have some magic in your blood?

Yes, she had magic but it was—well to be clear it was a very tiny amount and it had its own uses but she wasn’t the perfect woman to use it because—because—it was dangerous and it could kill her and it—

“You’re awake.”

The bass male voice and the shadow of a man distracted her from her mental banter as she took in the figure on the other side of the rails. He had over him an atmosphere invoking the impression of a Guild master. His skin was ivory like no other. His eyes deep sea blue but the most striking of all the things were his nose which was straight and delicate which made him immediately recognizable.

“Senor Methuselah, how honorary of you to come to visit me here.”

Irene’s voice was barely above a whisper but he noted it. “Smart comments won’t get you out.”

A snort from Irene as she felt her cynical parts come out to play; it was something she had always regretted about herself except—this was one exception.

“Yeah, you know it well, don’t you?”

Sarcasm was one interesting result Irene would never regret again. She knew him. She knew what he was capable of.

“Where’s Halona?”

Her voice was steely as she stared up into the deep penetrating eyes of Temperance Methuselah. Her father was once a decent man. Sadly, he was no more the same man. He was no more the Temperance he was before.

His voice was icy as he replied. “She’s under my custody.”

Irene sighed in relief. “So, old man, what brings you to the conclusion I might’ve been guilty?”

Temperance sat down near the guard’s area as she observed him. He was a tall man and built like a grizzly warrior of the North. All men from the north were at some point at their lives.

The thought sobered Irene up as she tried to shift her weight within the confines of her shackles. It was a difficult task but not impossible. Temperance’s gaze took her in as she tried in vain and finally gave up. Then, he began his long laundry list of things convicting Irene of the murders.

“One, according to Fortitude, you fled the scene. Two, you had blood all over your face—

“It was manure.” She clipped him before he could finish and the frown he gave her made Irene’s skin crawl. As if he had frozen her with one stare.

“Let me finish.”

Irene motioned for him to go on as she heard the rest. Mostly, it was a laundry list of lies and if anyone with a thinking brain thought of it, they’d see it for what it was. Sadly, the thinking was not in Temperance’s brain as Irene noted his expressions of conviction.

Lovely—just—just perfectly—

“You done?”

She said finally when reason number fifty came up. Temperance gave her another gimlet stare before she was finally allowed to speak. Not before a jolt of lightning went through her nerves. Probably magical shackles Irene thought ruefully before her words tumbled out and not in a bad way she’d presume.

“So, I am a murderer to you?”

Temperance’s stare was cold again before resuming into a nonchalant expression which amazed Irene who was immensely engrossed in the idea of Temperance learning nothing. Ever since he had visited them five years ago, it was a horrid conclusion.

“You are.” He said finally through gritted teeth and Irene sighed heavily. It was becoming a chore to actually put up with the old man. After all, he was a son of a—well let’s not go there.

“You think I would murder my own family?” She said with emphasis as she felt herself frozen to her core. Yes, it was freezing in the dungeons and lightning would be very preferable to her now that she knew the shackles were magic. At least, they’d keep her warm. Also, where was the smell of burning manure coming from?

Irene sniffed which Temperance probably thought was because she was guilty and her temper increased incrementally as she slowly started to feel heat flood her face.

“You crazy ass Motherfucker! How dare you!? How could you?”

A string of other unmentionable curses left her mouth as she struggled under the weight of the heavy shackles all around her. The electrical currents went through her like she was being struck by lightning still she had no stoppage until she saw the hurt in his face.

It calmed her down to her bones and made her numb throughout as she heard his words incomplete before caving into the relief of unconsciousness.

“You will die for your crimes, daughter. You will die unless…”

The rest was gone and Irene was lost forever.

It was daylight when Irene opened her eyes again. The faint flicker of sunrays was unwelcome as she hated the sun. Hated it with a passion would be an understatement.

After all, she was a moon child, a follower of death. Death and darkness went hand in hand along with peace, harmony, and hope.

It stung her eyes to keep them open but open she kept them because she had to know—

“Irene.”

A melodious female voice drew her attention as she tried to adjust her eyes to strain and see the person whom it belonged to. It was difficult but her outline gave some hope as Irene tried incessantly to sit up from her lying position.

“Who are you?”

She asked half dazed as she felt shivers and tingles of magic go through her body. It was one hell of a problem and for certain Irene knew it well. But she wasn’t about to complain because she was the captured and she had her own dignity to manage.

The woman sat down near the same guard’s post as before and Irene sighed in relief when she was finally able to discern her face despite the glare of the sun. Her creamy dark skin and inky brown eyes were a dead giveaway. Not to mention her hair which was teal as Irene could see clearly—eh, for the most part that is.

“Mrs. Methuselah. Nice to finally meet you.”

Sarcasm dripped from the sentence as Irene watched her mother’s reaction slowly turn bitter. The woman had guts to come and visit her here. After all, Nana had said she was responsible for father’s departure from the family’s face.

“So what brings you here?” She asked as the fact of her imprisonment was forgotten by a wash of newly re-emerging anger. Later, she said to herself as she continued to stare into the depths of the brown eyes of her mother.

Finally, the woman sighed exasperated and meekly looked at her with a flicker of an emotion which Irene wasn’t surely expecting from her.

“Look, child, I have no time. Your father has a proposition for you.”

Irene’s brow raised slightly. “A proposition? Do tell.”

Another audible sigh accompanied by a mild curse. “Your sister—she’s with me. I believe I can keep her safe as long as you do the bidding of your father. Please, agree to the deal.”

Halona. It struck her nerve to know her father would use Halona against her but so far…the dastardly deeds were piling up and Irene had no clue what else was in store for her. She felt her world crumble as fear gripped her systems with a vengeance.

“You say you’re our parents?” Her voice was dark and cold. “After all this? After all that you’ve done? You still wish us to respect you?”

Nora Methuselah swallowed as Irene sighed to break the knot on her throat. It was all a hellish nightmare. Her father was keeping her sister hostage and had sent her mother to offer a deal to her! If he would’ve asked—well, she wouldn’t have done it anyways but—Halona really?

His own daughters? He would kill his own daughters for punishment of a crime they hadn’t committed?

“Where is Halona?”

Her voice came out hoarse as she bit back tears. Nora Methuselah nodded. “At my quarters. Locked into house arrest until death.”

The situation became clearer by the minute. The woman wasn’t doing this for her own sake. She was doing this because she was forced to. Irene nodded in acknowledgement. Give the woman some credit.

She kept her head intact while under pressure. Irene looked deeply into those same brown eyes she had grown up seeing in the mirrors. Yes, she was telling the truth. Irene felt the magic inside her speak affirmatively.

The woman wouldn’t lie it said and Irene felt once again her world crumble. She was going to die but it wouldn’t be so bad but if Halona—God forbid if something happened—

“I’ll do it.”

“Good.”

The booming voice of Temperance made Irene’s skin crawl with disgust and anger but she said nothing as Temperance took his wife’s hand and forcefully made her stand. The pressure he was putting on her arms was beyond necessity and far more painful than any shackle Irene imagined. Being manhandled by her own husband must hurt, Irene mused.

“So, you agree to do my bidding.”

His voice was steady, blue eyes predatory as he inquired about Irene’s integrity. Irene only felt disgust and determination flow through her veins as she nodded in silence.

“Then, let me get you out of here.”