Chapter 1

Never Forgotten

The landscape that passed Damien Sandow by behind the window of the train cabin would inspire every aspiring writer or poet to write a new masterpiece that could cement their legacy; it was one of the rare areas where the lush, rural nature remained untouched by the industrial rise of 1895. The sun was set high in the blue sky, but despite the fact that it was summer, Mother Nature decided to be kinder towards the creatures who had mercilessly wrecked her precious domains with pollution and destruction and let this be one of the days where the temperature was actually bearable. Thankfully the gentle temperature outside barely affected the temperature inside the train cabin.

Just a few more hours and Damien would arrive at the place of destination. He had been traveling for longer than a day and a night, he would be so pleased if he would finally be able to go outside to stretch his legs and breath in a fresh gust of air. He had traveled all across the United States. He had to agree, the invention of the train was absolutely incredible, but he hoped that one day there would be faster trains. It was 1895, there was still a lot of time left for present and future engineers to figure this problem out.

Damien let out a tired sigh as he continued to stare through the window. His throat felt dry, he hoped he could get his hands on a refreshment soon enough. There he was, a healthy-looking gentleman, sitting all on his own while most of his fellow passengers had joined together and engaged into meaningless chit-chat; occasionally a brief laugh would be heard in the train cabin. One of the passengers even had the guts to light up his pipe during the conversation, making breathing almost impossible. But the smell of tobacco would luckily thin out in time, though. Nobody who was paying attention to the silent gentleman. Damien, who had recently turned thirty-three years old, looked healthy and well-groomed in comparison to most men in the train cabin. He had black hair that was neatly combed, he had trimmed his beard just this morning and he remembered his late father often telling him as a child that he had inherited the big brown eyes he had from his mother. And, according to the many women he had met throughout his life, he was not exactly unattractive. A few woman had tried to strike up a conversation with Damien during his journey, but when it became clear that he preferred to be alone, they realized that he was not going to be the lover they wished to marry and go back to their seats. Damien figured that it was most likely his upbringing that granted him these good looks.

Apparently, a small, red ball wasn't planning on leaving him be, as it rolled across the ground of the train cabin and bumped against Damien's shoe, causing him to look up in mild annoyance. Not long after the ball had touched his shoe, he heard the fast pitter-pattering footsteps that only a small child could make. And it turned out that he was right; a little boy, who could be no older than five years old, ran towards Damien to collect his beloved toy. But before he could touch the ball, Damien had already picked it up.

'Does this belong to you, young man?' he asked.

The boy nodded with eyes that reminded Damien of Victorian post-mortem photographs. 'You should be more careful with your toy.' Damien said, handing over the ball. The little boy happily accepted it, holding the toy with his small, fat hands like it was a sacred relic.

'Franklin!' a female voice could be heard saying in the back of the train cabin. When the boy turned around in alertness, Damien realized that the voice must belong to his mother. 'Get back here, don't bother that man!' The little boy ran back to his mother without even thanking Damien, the little brat.

Damien decided to not remember this moment for in the future and stared back at the landscape outside. Soon it would be afternoon and there would be a chance the temperature would increase; he should enjoy the coolness in here for now, knowing that the summer heat would remind him of the most precious memory he possessed. It had taken place many years ago, but sometimes, it still felt like it was only yesterday.

The magical summer of 1881... the summer that had formed his future.

Damien was born in 1862 as the son of a respected teacher at a high-class university. Unfortunately, he never had the chance to know his mother; the unlucky woman had passed away during childbirth. Arthur Sandow, whose profession made it almost impossible for him to spend any time with his son, gave the governess who lived with them the task to fill in the empty mother-role the little boy missed in his life. And Damien had to say, she had done a wonderful job; his childhood was marked with children stories, attention, proper education that suited a child of his age and proper food. When he became older, his father thought it was time he received the finest education he could offer his son, which would result into the man he was to this day. Damien didn't have too many friends as a child, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it at all; he would rather spend his days reading the stories and poets of the biggest names in the literature by that time than playing outside with children of his age.

It was in the summer of 1881, the summer he would never forget, that Damien turned nineteen years old. Arthur finally found some free time to celebrate the birthday of his son, inviting his colleagues and friends to visit them in the large garden of the mansion. Damien had always preferred talking to adults than to his peers, as they seemed to be more on his level. As he shared conversations with the guests about to which university he was planning to study at in the future, views on the industrial world and politics, he would never expect the angels to descend to the Earth, visit the party and leave one of their own kind behind... because when he turned around, he spotted the girl that would influence his life for as long he lived.

Her name was Elizabeth Bettencourt; if Damien had to write a story and name the female protagonist, that would exactly be the name he would give her. Even though many years had passed, he could still exactly remember how she looked like. Golden blonde hair, green eyes, and a pale skin that made the soft red blush that was always present on her cheeks look even more beautiful. She was born in France, but moved to the United States with her parents at the tender age of four. Her father recently started working at the same university as Damien's after teaching at other universities around the country. When she greeted him, Damien could still hear a hint of her native language in her voice. It turned out Arthur and Elizabeth's parents were so close that he invited them to stay over at their place for a few days, much to Damien's delight. This gave the two teenagers plenty enough time to be together, the young Damien even found himself putting his books to rest to be with Elizabeth more often. She was eighteen years old, just one year younger than him. Her interests were art, poetry, stories, politics, nature and music. She wanted to become an opera singer when she would grow up. She had been nothing more but kind and polite to Damien.

And then, before he could realize it, Damien fell hopelessly in love with Elizabeth.

He had never felt anything like this for any woman before, the way she made him feel kept him awake at night, unable to close his eyes without seeing her beautiful face in the darkness. She was his first love and he wished her to be the one and only woman in his life, his bride, his wife. Not knowing how she would react to his affections, Damien kept his romantic feelings for her as a secret.

Then, on the evening before the Bettencourts would return to their mansion, Damien decided he had enough of keeping his mouth shut; he wanted to let Elizabeth know about his feelings, before this opportunity would be wasted. Together with her, he managed to slip away from the watchful eyes of their parents and ventured into the woods not far away from the mansion. There, with the moon, stars and trees as his silent witnesses, Damien confessed everything to her without any hesitation. He would never forget the way she smiled upon hearing those words, telling him she had been feeling about him the same way. It was the first time he kissed a girl that night; on that same night, the two teenagers also experienced the pleasures of the flesh for the first time as well. Damien would always remember Elizabeth's trembling voice when she whimpered in pleasure, the trickle of sweat that ran down her temple, her arching back when she reached the highest point. After that, they had officially become secret lovers.

Nobody knew about their secret relationship, nobody knew what they had done in the woods when Elizabeth left with her parents the next morning. Elizabeth's departure didn't do anything to stop the relationship. Before she left, she and Damien had promised each other to write every day. And the two lovers loyally kept that promise. Over the course of the following weeks, Damien and Elizabeth traded numerous letters. As soon as one of them received a letter from the other, a new letter would be written that very same day. Looking forward to Elizabeth's letters was the sun that was shining upon Damien's life. Her letters contained the kindest words, the most beautiful poetry, the most hopeful look on the future. According to Elizabeth, she could already imagine it all; they would be married, own a gorgeous mansion with a garden full of flowers, have children that were just as bright as their father, she would be an opera singer and Damien would be a teacher. Everything seemed to be set in stone for the two lovers...

But then, one day, Damien stopped receiving letters from Elizabeth.

At first he didn't think too much off it, assuming that she had been busy lately with her own education. But as the days went on, a sickening feeling developed inside his stomach, as if he had eaten something rotten. Did something happen to his beloved? Did her parents find out about the relationship? While Damien continued with his daily life, the worry about something awful happening to Elizabeth was always present in the back of his head. He had nobody to talk about it, he was on his own to handle with this. The sickening feeling was almost suffocating him.
Then he finally received the answer to all of his questions.

His father came into his room, asking him to lay down his book for a moment. With a solemn look on his face, he broke the news to Damien. Elizabeth had died in an accident, along with her parents. They were on their way in their carriage to a play at night, when something spooked the horse, causing the carriage to crash against a tree and kill them on impact.

Damien had never cried this much during those dark days. Nothing could comfort him, nothing could ease his pain. He had cried himself to sleep on countless nights, waking up with his head resting on a soaking wet pillow and his eyes puffy and red. It felt like he had been left all alone in this world to handle his grief. He refused to believe that Elizabeth was dead, but it was the harsh reality. Only in his dreams she was still alive, smiling at him and telling him how much she loved him. But as time went on, Damien realized he couldn't spend his life like this. There was still a future for him, but the fact that he had to go through that without Elizabeth, hurt him beyond belief. Only after three months of immense grieving, Damien was able to continue with his life... but Elizabeth would never leave his heart.

Even to this day, while sitting in a train cabin on his way to his destination, Damien refused to forget the first woman he ever loved.