Not long ago in the town of Carleon, not far outside Newport and Whales, lays secrets and magics most people can only ever dream of. Or maybe even read in a story book, though one a young girl named Ezra believes to have been true once upon a time: The quest for Camelot.
8 years ago in Newport, England...
9/9/2000
"Aaron, stop playing with the window," says the older woman to her young barely teenaged son. The brunette haired boy looks at her for a second and sighs before opting to pull out his ipod and listen to some music instead. The woman grimaces sadly and looks back at her young daughter of only seven years of age. The girl was passed out in her car seat, her fiery red curls strewn all over her face and her hazel eyes closed. The bright moonlight shown brightly over her alabaster skin. The older woman turned her attention away from her children when she heard a deep yawn next to her. She looks at her husband, who his resembles so much, next to her in the drivers seat. She smiles and takes his free hand as his other in on the wheel.
The family was just coming back from their cabin. They had been on vacation for a whole two weeks together, but now their father was expected back at work and so was the mother. It was very late now since their cabin was very far out from town. Several hours and the young daughter had insisted that they'd have one more campfire night with ghost stories and smores. The works. The mother looked up at the stars and sighed tiredly. The ghost a smile graced her lips and she leaned back in her seat, her fingers still entwined with her husbands. This was perfect.
Too bad she forgot that perfect pleasantly doesn't exist.
The father had grown so tired and hadn't noticed the truck coming the opposite way of them approaching the bend. The father made a sharp turn to avoid hitting the gate near the ledge of the road, but then hit the truck full on in the side. With the truck being much heavier than the families own, their car was flipped over and spun back on the road, tumbling over and over again. The mother wasn't sure it was even going to stop and then it did finally. She weakly lifted her head up. She felt a sticky, hot liquid drip over her head and into her eyes. The red clouded and nearly blinded her vision, but the adrenaline kept her going. Her children were in the back of this car. Her son had been safely cushioned by the air bags and the door had come off some time ago and let him out of the car safely by some odd miracle. The woman's husband was passed out beside her, seemingly with only a few cuts and bruises, probably a concussion and a broken arm and hand. The two boys had been on the opposing side that the truck had come on. The mother felt a terrible wave of dread as she realized that her daughter, her little girl had been hit head on as well as she. The mother craned her neck to try and see passed her mangled seat but she couldn't. She began to get desperate and tried anything she could to wriggle out of her confines the mangled car had created. She felt a piece of metal poking into the front of her thigh, but she still tired to pull herself free, despite the metal shard clawing her open as she moved. Nothing else mattered but her children right now. Some others might have said the woman was crazy to further risk her life just to get a glimpse of her girl, but any other mother would have understood this kind of love. The woman eventually pulled herself free enough, despite the agony it had caused her. She screamed as she continued to drag herself forward and even though the psychical pain was tormenting the sight before her was much more so. Her little girl laid partly on the street, her waist still trapped in the seat belt and the rest of her body laying on the street, since the car was still tilted on it's side. The mother felt woozy from the sight of her daughters blood and more than likely the amount she had lost of her own. She held her bloodied hand out and placed it on her daughters cheek. The mother had smeared blood over his daughters face, the little girl was so cold already. The woman didn't even know how much time had passed. Nothing mattered besides her girl. The mother trailed her hand down onto her daughters chest, desperate to find a heartbeat.
"Please," she begged to herself and her cries went out into the night. There must have been some stroke of magic that night, because the girl began to shift uncomfortably and unconsciously. Tears fell from the mothers eyes in relief, but also great pain. She could feel the blood gushing from her leg and ankle, she'd no doubt torn an artery, but it was okay in her mind because her children were alive. The woman's vision began to blur and her world began to spin dangerously. She thought she could hear the whir of sirens briefly heading in this direction. She smiled wetly and tears and blood rolled over her lips. The mother laid her head down and heard no more.
4 months ago in Dublin, Ireland...
5/7/2008
"Can't think strait again, huh Ezra?"
"Yes, Miss," says the young ginger haired girl as she looked down at her feet and scuffs her ked sneakers on the linoleum flooring. The guidance councilor, Amelia Wyatt, looks sympathetically at the girl.
"Okay, what happened this time?"
"Nothing," Ezra answers quickly and lowly, keeping her head down and a mess of red curls shade her pale face. Amelia grimaces sadly from where she's sitting on the opposing side of her desk to Ezra. She reaches her hand out and pushes locks of Ezra's hair out of her face and feels a few drops of some sticky substance stuck in her hair. Amelia sighs sadly ad grabs a tissue, she presses it to Ezra's split lip. "What were the girls names?"
"It doesn't even matter," Ezra says with a mildly heated edge to her voice as she moves Amelia's hand and hold the tissue to her lip on her own.
"They could get suspended or expelled for-"
"I've been here enough times to know how this goes." Amelia sighs again and pushes herself up from her seat. It creaks against the floor and Amelia moves around the dark wood desk. Amelia's concern only grown more when she notices the oddly circular cuts on her left shoulder.
"What are these?" Amelia asks, thankful that Ezra was wearing a tank top today otherwise she would have missed it.
"...Pencils." Amelia quirked an eyebrow her eyes widen marginally.
"They stabbed you with pencils?" She inquires exasperatedly. Ezra sniffles and stays quiet. The young girl glances up at the older woman and nods solemnly. Amelia silently gestures for Ezra to get up. The girl does so promptly and Amelia walks her to the nurses office. Amelia waves the nurse away and sits Ezra down herself and starts to patch her up. Amelia reaches up, standing on the balls of her feet to reach the upper cabinet. She takes a blue bottle down, the contents of it would clean the wound, a gauze pad and a cotton ball. Amelia pulls a chair over from off to the side of the room, sits down and starts silently. At least for a while.
"You're not going to tell me their names?" Amelia asks again as she pours some of the contents of the bottle onto the cotton ball and begins to dab it on the marks on Ezra's arm.
"No..." Silence ensues again. Amelia, as much as she'd like to, can't force Ezra to say anything. Unfortunately, that's how the wonderful school system worked. Amelia very nearly rolled her eyes at her own sarcastic thought. The least she could normally do was have the girl patched up and on her way, but not this time. This time Amelia had a different idea. As soon as Amelia had finished cleaning the cuts to make sure they weren't infected she walks back over to the cabinet and counter. She pulls a booklet out of her bag. She walks back over and hands it to Ezra.
"Here, I know you love reading."
"What's this?" Ezra asks as she opens it up. She skims by some of the lines and shakes her head after a moment.
"A brochure for an academy in Carleon." Ezra sighs sadly and brings her knees up to her chest, curling up tight in her chair. "Aren't you excited to be going home?" Amelia questions.
"It hasn't been my home for three years, not since my father died," Ezra retorts sadly. The subject is still sore for her, possibly even still raw from the way the situation was handled, but still she didn't have the heart to snap. Especially not to Amelia Wyatt of all people.
"Home is where the heart is, as they say, and I think both you and Aaron left a piece of yours there." Ezra keeps her eyes focused down and averts her councilors gaze. All of the sudden the younger woman wraps her arms around Amelia.
"I'll miss you."
"I know, honey, I know."
_இAVALON RISINGஇ_
Present Day in Caerleon, England...
9/9/2008
Aaron groaned as he opened another cardboard box and was met with books this time. Last it was plates and cups and before that it was clothes. So many piles and boxes full of clothes. Aaron knows he and Ezra really should have labeled the many various boxes, but of course they couldn't be bothered at the time. However they were young twenty something and teenaged and were still just as lazy and unorganized as anyone their age.
"Ezra! Do you know where we put the-"
"Towels?" Ezra asks, standing above where Aaron was knelt down over an opened box. She's already holding a light cream colored one in her hands. Aaron grins lightly and pushes himself up off the ground and onto his feet. "I figured out where they were a while ago."
"I figured," Aaron says back as he flicks a wet clumped lock of hair into her face. Ezra smiles wryly and laughs in fake annoyance as Aaron ruffles the girls ginger hair and more falls into her face.
"Stop it!" She whines, but still has a bright smile planted on her lips. "I don't want to look all ragged today." Aaron shrugs and pats his younger sister on the back.
"You're excited?"
"Yeah," Ezra answers. She kneels down over a box Aaron had previously opened, one full of books, her eyes scan through the different titled binding of the books. She ended up pulling out a story book of the Grimms fairytales. Most girls liked tales of princes on Shetland ponies and knights in shining armor, well, that wasn't Ezra. The reality of how it actually was was her kind of fairytale. Aaron quirked an eyebrow when he saw he slipping it into her light blue and brown backpack.
"You've probably read everything in that book a million times," says Aaron and Ezra shrugs "You're like that princess... Bella?"
"Belle," Ezra corrects "from beauty and the beast. You know this." Aaron cocks his head to the side.
"Hey, in my defense there is about a million princess'."
"Disney sure works overtime on all those," Ezra jokes. Her brother scoffs in obvious agreement. She goes through another stack of books. Aaron normally didn't encourage Ezra's fantasy oriented antics, but just today he figured it was alright.
"Hey, what do you like, which ones your favorite?" Ezra looks up and her eyes stay trained on a particular part of the ceiling to show that she was in thought, though she didn't stay like this for long.
"Guinevere," she answers. Aaron quirks an eyebrow.
"From the Shakespearean novel?" Ezra nods and this only serves to further Aaron's confused expression. "Didn't she cheat on her husband, the king, crush him and ultimately bring down Camelot?"
"There's more to her character than that," Ezra insists "she was a great ruler... for a while." Aaron chuckles lightly and under his breath. He shakes his head and grabs his keys off one of the dark wood end tables they had set up in their old family home.
"Come on, we better stop somewhere to get some decent food."
"Agreed," Ezra concurs, knowing neither of them could cook well to save their lives. She grabs the book titled The quest for Camelot and the two are on their way. Given the fact that it's their old hometown, the avoid any smaller local restaurants and especially any place either of their parents liked. Aaron would say that it was because he didn't want to make Ezra upset, but really it was blatantly obvious that he missed them both too.
8 years ago in Saint Joseph's Hospital in Newport, England...
9/9/2000
Henry paced the halls of the hospital, paying his son no mind. He wasn't even thinking about him now, his thoughts were on his wife and her alone. A doctor came out a little while later. Little later being the time after Henry had downed several cups of coffee to keep himself awake in these late night hours. Henry instantly got to his feet, staring hysterically wide eyed at the woman. The doctor had a chart in her hand. "Are you Henry Aldebourne?" She asked, Henry could only, barely, nod stiffly. His entire form was rigid with fear. The doctor noted the small, brunette haired boy, who resembled Henry much, sitting in a chair not far from the man. The doctor promptly escorted Henry down a ways to the end of the hall. "I have reports on your daughter, Ezra." The man seems to deflate only slightly and he looses eye contact with the woman, though he does not ask her to keep quiet, so the doctor relays what she knows.
"Preliminary testing shows that she's suffered some brain trauma from the accident. We're still not sure if there's an internal bleeding, we're going to run some more tests, but the crash banged her up pretty bad..." says the doctor to the little girls father. His son, Aaron, was hardly injured at all as was he, but his wife, as far as he knew, lay in critical condition and was on the brink of death and his daughter had damage in her brain somehow. Doctors had been dumbfounded by the fact that, due to the trauma she should have received by the way the car had crashed, she should have gotten severe skull damage, cranial muscle contusions and tears and possibly even bleeding in the brain, however, none of these seemed plausible by what tests were showing. "She might never be the same again." Henry grows more tense than one might think the human body could possibly become, but in doing this he is able to keep his composure.
"My wife?" The shattering man grounds out roughly as he's trying to keep the anguish out of his tone. The doctor breathes in, looking incredibly pained herself. She tries to speak as gingerly as she can, but this type of thing is never an easy feat for any medic. Ever.
"She had a sharp shard of metal embedded in her femoral artery during the crash, her frantic movement caused it to tear... she bled out with in a matter of minutes. I'm-," the doctor choked on a rising sob. She'd never had to do this before "I'm sorry, Mr. Aldebourne, she didn't survive the crash." The world around Henry seemed to stop spinning, even the air remained motionless, refusing to enter the man's desperate lungs. A sharp, agonizing pang of agony shot through his chest, one more painful that a heart attack; a heartbreak and when the realization finally sunk in it was all too clear.
The frozen world around him shattered to broken shards of nothingness.
Pain flooded every aspect of his body, it hurt to breath, it hurt to think, it hurt to feel. Sobs racked his entire form. He howled in anguish. Screaming in agony with the pulsing pain that only picked up with every passing second.
The man kept on with his hysterics so much so that more nurses and doctors had to rush in to the hall to subdue him and his antics. Aaron, Henry's son, pushed himself weakly up from his chair and moved a few steps closer, watching in sheer horror as his father scream and fought with the doctors, hurting those around him and breaking things. Everything. He kept on screaming and screaming. "She can't be- Helena you can't do this to me!" And "lord, please, lord no! You can't take her! You can't take her away like this!" Aaron wasn't an idiot, he was very intelligent, he knew that Henry was talking about his mother. She was dead now... The crash had stolen her away from their family forever. Aaron began to cry, the onslaught of tears pouring. He stood in the middle of the hallway as doctors rushed passed, paying him no mind as they went to Henry, one with a sedative even. Aaron was alone. He looked towards a door off to the side, through the tinted glass he could faintly make out the form of a small girl. Ezra... his mind echoed. Without thought Aaron slowly made his way towards the door, his hand was shaky due to the constant sobs that continued, but he managed to get inside. The door slowly swung closed behind him as Aaron slowly shuffled into the room. Ezra laid on a high bed much too big for her looking no better than half dead. Aaron swallowed down a thick gob of phlegm in this throat as he came to the edge of the hospital bed on the left side. He gazed down at his sister. They could have lost her too, but she was alive. She looked so... at peace as she slept. Aaron crawled on the far side of the bed that Ezra's feet couldn't yet touch and curled up there, sobbing, but refusing to move away from his sister. His mother was dead, his father... had gone in another way it seemed. What did he have left? He was alone... Aaron couldn't stop sobbing no matter how hard he tried. It was so immense that he could barely stop to take a breath, it was constricting to the point of near suffocation. It was then that Aaron felt this strange feeling of peace, it was his mother's voice, uttering the words "you are not alone." Simply that single phrase over and over again. There was only one window in the room and it was covered by thick material curtains, but Aaron swore that a strange light, so faint it seemed almost nonexistent, flowed over Ezra's tranquil facial features. Aaron sniffed and laid a hand on Ezra's leg, the only place he could manage to touch from his current position, and he felt better somehow. Like his mother was still there and that it was all going to be okay in some way. Aaron wanted nothing more than to believe that it was true.
Present Day in Caerleon, England...
9/9/2008
Ezra stepped onto school grounds with Aaron by her side. Aaron was out of secondary school and in university currently. He was studying a form political science with the hopes to become a social advocate in the judicial system. It was a four year study, but Aaron was willing to put in the effort and time that it took. His only concern was all of the time Ezra might be spending on her own. Though she was, today, being enrolled into a private school known as St. Elyan secondary school. It's not that Ezra was unfriendly or rude, it's just that she was, well, a bit... odd at times. She still carried the belief of childish things such as prince's and knight's, dragon's and unicorn's, myths and magic. That last part was a popular theme. According to a few psychiatrist's Ezra had been brought to for her particular sessions that had to do with her apparent brain damage and trauma recovery, it was something she'd simply made up and they all believed it would eventually go away. Well, eight years later she still hadn't fully let go. She still believed there was some form of magic that was linked to everything, they- nobody else- just couldn't see it the way she did.
Aaron and Ezra found their way to the main office of the huge stone building- eventually- and started on finalizing Ezra's enrollment. "Can I have the contact information for her emergency contact?" The male secretary asks.
"That would be mine," Aaron says, shifting in his chair just slightly "and I think you already have that." The man raises his eyebrow a bit of a judgmental way. Aaron doesn't really like it.
"Preferably for her parent or guardian," the secretary adds. Aaron sits up straighter in his chair and looks at the man with a firm expression.
"Parental contact information is now.. irrelevant," Aaron says, avoiding the subject of death, blatantly anyways, in Ezra's presence. "I'm her legal guardian and I have all the damn paperwork to prove it, but for the sake of both of our precious time, I hope we can avoid all of it entirely and just move on." The secretary clears his throat and avoids eye contact temporarily with the young man who had so obviously put him to shame. Other teachers or secretary's were glancing at him, some with judgmental looks of their own. After all it was wrong to have preconceived notions of someone simply by their living or family situation.
Eventually all of that was straitened out Ezra was escorted to her first class. Sure, of course she'd told Aaron that she wasn't nervous, but really she was freaking out. She was just barely able to keep her exterior composure intact. Ezra felt uncomfortable in her uniform. She wore a white button down shirt that was just slightly too tight and the navy blue blazer that went around was just a little too big. She had navy blue pencil skirt to match and it was styled so that it was able to come up just a little below her endowments and fall down to about her knees. Her tights were dark color and her basic shoes were brown. The female secretary opened the door to the classroom and moved aside. "Here you are, dear." Ezra nods as a small thanks to the woman and gingerly moves inside, clutching her schedule written on paper in her sweaty hand and her brown burlap bag slung over her shoulder. Everyone else was already seated since Aaron had had such trouble finalizing Ezra's enrollment, it took some time and now she was marginally late. Several of them glanced at her others paid her no mind.
She counted the small blessings.
Ezra made her way to an empty desk in the second row and promptly sat down. She set her bag down at her feet and shoved her written schedule into the left pocket of her uniform blazer. Ezra stayed quiet while others chatted or goofed around. Seemingly they all knew each other. Was she the only first year in this class? Possibly.
The teacher did eventually waltz in, taking long strides and rambling about something under his breath. The man in question had striking blue eyes and his clothes were very basic and appropriate, nothing out of the ordinary. The thing about him that did stand out was the mans long fine white beard and hair to match. It wryly reminded Ezra of father christmas, though of course she didn't verbally mention that. He was still continuing to grumble about something or other, paying the class no mind and acting like he was alone without a care. He rummaged through some of the cabinets and shelves behind his desk. Some of the students began to give him odd looks whilst his back was turned and when a thick folder fell on the old man's foot he hissed and some of the kids snickered. The man briefly turned back to the class, acknowledging them for the first time. "You know where your books are, open 'em for gods sake." His voice was very gruff and demanding, most everyone student in the room quickly delved into their bags to pull out their respective textbooks. Ezra gulped, she had been so nervous prior that she wasn't even sure what class she was in! Ezra quickly pulled the folded paper from her pocket and looked it over. Latin, she had Latin now. While near everyone else's books were already out in front of them, Ezra was still trying to yank her's out of her bag. She though that the teacher's eyes had landed on her and she felt her cheeks redden from embarrassment, she soon realized afterwards that the teacher, whom she didn't know the name of, had moved in on the cocky boy in front of her. One that had been persistently annoying whilst awaiting the alleged teacher. The old teacher zoomed in on the student as he slung his feet up on his desk. On the first day too? Really?
"You having some trouble reading the title of the textbook there?" The teacher quipped. The boy scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"No one needs Latin for anything these days, ya senile codger." Some of the other student's in the room rolled their eyes or groaned, Ezra noted. This kid must have had some kind of rep for being disruptive. None of the other student's seemed surprised by his actions, just irritated. Even the boy next to the annoying student, who was talking with him earlier, shook his head when the other prompted him.
"Swá secganá prat gelíc ðu," the teacher mutters. The boy looks confused, along with most of the students in the class. The teacher, however, doesn't seem to be exasperated to the fact that none of them understood what he had said. Ezra had taken Latin last year in her old school, she'd gotten a 89.0% scoring and she didn't get one word out of that. Well, none besides the word prat.
"Whaa?" The boy trailed off ignorantly. The teacher guffawed shortly and shook his head.
"And if you knew even a lick of Latin, you might have gotten that." Some of the students snickered at the boy and he didn't look happy about that.
"Do you know who I am?" The boy shot at the teacher in a low voice. Many of the student's groaned as the boy continued his egotistical talk. The old man stood back strait and nodded a few times, looking up, mockingly.
"Yes, yes. Lloyd Murray. You're a forward on the school rugby team if I'm not mistaken, yes, heard a lot about you." Nobody knew why the teacher was inflating the arrogant student's ego, but no one complained verbally. "You're going to graduate in year 2012.. from secondary school." a few of the student's lips parted, knowing that technically, since it was 2008, he should have graduated from university by then, no secondary school. The boy in question eyebrows raised in surprise. "You're going to attend a very prestigious university afterwards- a "community college" in America- And! In 2014 you'll have a wonderful, fulfilling career cleaning my home latrine." At the point every single other student in the class was working to hold back their laughter, in fear of getting called out by the verbally ruthless man. "Murray?"
"Yes, sir?" The boy nearly squeaked, which only amused and charged the other students more.
"Shut up and open your book to page 17." The class died down after that and all eyes were on the estranged, incredibly amusing, teacher. The teachers huffs when he see's the boy quickly grabbing his book from his bag out of the corner of his eye. "'Bout bloody time." The teacher, now behind his desk, grabs a piece of chalk and scribbles something down on the blackboard. "I'm not going to bother to introduce myself, if you can read you can figure out my name. If you can't read, well, I wouldn't figure you'd be in my class then." Amused expression's all around. The teacher began to go into the basic first day stuff, all that they'd be learning this year and so on and so forth.
Ezra squinted her eyes to read the messy scrawl the teacher had written out. Mr. ...Emrys? Or did he write Emry? It eluded Ezra to some extent, but she thought that extra line at the end probably was an 'S' so she was betting that it was Mr. Emrys. Just to clarify, no, Ezra wasn't stupid. She wasn't particularly a genius either, but by no means was she stupid. She simply never really learned cursive. It wasn't really needed these days other than having to sign your name or signature, so that was pleasantly all Ezra figured out how to do.
The class went on for a good forty-five minute duration before concluding for the day. Mr. Emrys had skipped attendance, claiming that it was a waste of time when he had a perfectly capable pair of eyes, and he also cut his basic first day explanation short, seeing as most of them were all second years and claimed that he didn't think the first years would have a problem catching on. With that the class was over. Ezra walked out of class behind most everyone else, trying to just lay low and stay calm. So much so actually that she jumped a mile high when someone tapped her on the back. The girl behind Ezra giggled hilariously. Ezra turned around, taking a few steps off to the side and out from in front of the doorway. Her ginger curls whipped the girl in questions face. The girl with dark skin wrinkles her nose as the hair brushes of her features. "Elaine?" Ezra asks with a pleased grin on her face. The english girl with latina features smiles wide and stretches her arms out the the side.
"Surprise," she says with a wink. Ezra instantly moves forward to hug her old childhood friend.
"It is so, so, so good to see a familiar face. Truly." Elaine giggles a little.
"You're squishing and squeezing a little tight there, Iz." Ezra rolls her eyes and lets go of her long lost friend.
"Well," Elaine starts "what's been up with you?" She asks as she lightly grabs Ezra's upper arm and starts to lead her away from the student's pouring into the hallway and shuffling along to their next classes.
"You make three years sound like a very short while," Ezra remarks with a smirk. Elaine waves her off.
"We SMSed on FaceBook all of the time, it's practically the same thing," Elaine insists.
"Not really," Ezra wryly disagrees "but I am really glad to be seeing you again."
She pulls her part mangled, part folded schedule out of her pocket, squinting and looking at the page closely to try and see what the secretary wrote out for her. Arithmetic, wonderful, Ezra mused sarcastically. She knew from what she was told that that particular classroom was on the third floor... and this academy had no lifts, only stairs. Joy... "So," Elaine after a moment of silence between them "since you're, so far, not opposed to seeing more of me," Ezra giggles shortly "there's this little thing that's going on tonight, ya know, first day back at school, real low key. Now I know parties aren't your usual M.O, but it'd be a great chance to hang out and-"
"I'll go." Elaine stops Ezra and walks around to face her as opposed to before when she was walking beside the short ginger girl.
"Wait sorry, I think I just suffered a stroke or something, did you just say that you'd come? Without me having to do hours of convincing?" Ezra bites her lip for a moment, turning the statement over in her head before pushing down all of her insecurities and nodding vividly.
"Yes, yes, I'd like to go." Elaine lets out a high pitched screech from her down in her throat and clasps her hands together.
"Sweet, sweet. I cannot wait to see you later, really, but if I'm late on the first day my parent's would kill me," Elaine stresses. Ezra shakes her head, still biting her lip, tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
"Sure they would."
Ezra eventually made it home as she had called it a long while ago. She set her bag down at the door and left the foyer to head into the kitchen. Not that her or Aaron had actually bought any substantial food yet. However, Ezra was pleasantly surprised to find that there was a small aluminum can of iced tea waiting for her on the large quartz kitchen island counter top. Ezra plucked the can up into her hands and flipped the cap and when her hand closed around it she could feel a slightly damp sticky note on the other side. Ezra peeled it off and read the messy scrawl.
Figured you might want the sugar boost. ;P
-Aaron
Ezra grinned at the fact that her brother felt the need to sign his own name since it was clear that nobody else would set foot in this house besides the two of them. The family had... a certain reputation of sorts right before they had packed up and left. It had been quite the talk of the town for a while. A tragic story really. Ezra sighed at her sorry reminiscing. Wishing wouldn't get her anywhere, though she still insisted to indulge herself in fantasies. Ezra, with her iced tea bottle in hand, made her way up the long, curved granite staircase that went up the second floor of the large house. The family was also, for the foreseeable future, quite rich. Their father was a business owner and a bloody good one at that. He'd, at one time, had several stores set up all over East Whales. Ezra didn't even notice that she'd come to her fathers old office or study as some would say. All the classic antique furniture in the room had been covered over or wrapped up. All of the windows were closed and the carpet was immensely dusty along with many other items inside the spacious room. Ezra set her bottle down on one of the shelves next to the doorway, which was covered over with a tan sheet. Ezra looked around the room for a while, realizing that she was pointlessly reminiscing again, but what harm could it really do? Ezra tilted her head up and twirled around to look at the hanging chandelier in the vaulted ceiling. She bumped into something hard. Something wooden. It clunked with the force. Ezra hissed mildly with the pain to her lower back, she rubbed it in annoyance before stopped and realizing the treasure she'd just bumped into. Literally. Ezra, without a second thought, grasped the dusty cream colored sheet and yanked it away, spewing thick clouds of dust in all directions. Ezra coughed several times and covered over her open bottle to avoid the haze to be spilling into her drink. As soon as most of it had faded and after Ezra had blinked most of it out of her striking hazel blue eyes, she could set her sights on the old willow wood piano of her fathers that he had insisted on buying. He was so passionate about music, he would have been impossibly depressed if neither one of his children had taken an interest in the instrument. She sat down on the piano bench, which was wrapped in plastic. It crinkled as she adjusted herself on it. The girls pale digit's hovered over white porcelain keys, but did not press down on them. She couldn't do it. Ezra got up off the bench, pushing it back and swiftly moving away to leave the room. She only back tracked when she noted that she'd forgotten her iced tea. She reached back to grab it and clumsily spilled it on the rug with her lazy grip. "Oh bloody hell," Ezra snapped quietly. She set the bottle down on the floor and she knelt down to examine the puddle that was surely staining the carpet. As Ezra was knelt down and on all fours, she noted a similar, albeit purple stain under the old piano. Ezra's eyes watered at the attached memory.
8 years ago at the Aldebourne family home in Caerleon, England...
1/29/2001
Ezra's father was leaning over the piano again, a bottle of half drunk bourbon sat atop the instrument. No matter what the pain he was in, Henry swore to himself that he wouldn't become a drunk. He wouldn't do that to his children, though he wasn't above drinking a few beers to numb the pain of his wife. Helena...
A young seven year old Ezra played underneath the piano, looking at the pictures in a story book she had taken from her bedroom. It was about princess Ariel and her life under the sea. Ezra completely adored it, even from a young age it was one of her favorites. She had brought a juice pouch with her, but had squeezed it too hard and spilt it a little. Woops. Ezra was part way through reading the pictures of her story book when she heard a sniffle from her father above her. Ezra looked up from her book and peeked out from under the piano. The is the first time Ezra had ever caught her father crying. It was almost foreign to her to see her daddy so broken down. Ezra pulled herself out from under the large instrument and hauled herself up on the bench next to her sobbing father. Ezra's pale little legs couldn't quite touch the ground and so they swung innocently back and forth. Ezra just looked up at her father and didn't say a word. She really didn't these days after the accident, she was still in speech therapy as part of her mental rehab. Ezra was, however, a good listener, which is why she was able to do what she did next. Her little fingers pressed down on the pristine white keys, Henry took great pride in cleaning and keep the antique piece in immaculate condition. Ezra started playing the notes she knew. The ones she'd hear her daddy play all of the time. Henry's ears perked up and even so did her for a brief moment. His weak slumped over body found some new strength in the long parted notes that Ezra was playing to a slightly broken tune. Henry eventually sat up all the way again, albeit still hunched over. Bless him, Ezra was trying to play, very brokenly he might add, Parchelbel- Cannon in D. A popular tune in the Aldebourne house. The same piece played at Henry and Helena's wedding. Henry, with his own shaky hands, adjusted Ezra's to the correct position that her hands should have formed to reach other keys with a bit more ease. Then he himself began to play the second part in a lower key. Crying more and more with every note. Helene loved this song with a dying passion. She would done anything to see Ezra try and play it for Henry now. She would have absolutely adored even waking moment of the broken melody and would have later replayed it in her head, along with the mental image of Ezra sitting side by side with her proud father beaming down at his daughter. But not today. It might as well have been funeral music, but his daughters efforts alone seemed to melt a broken shard of Henry's heart.
Present day...
Ezra hadn't noticed that hot tears were stinging the corners of her eyes and rolling silently, gently down her flushed cheeks.
