Chapter 7

-Lies-


It had been three days. Three long days of anxious thoughts, invading his mind, with no one there to help him get rid of them and calm his mind. He had nightmares. Not the usual ones -the ones with blood and murder and violence- but the ones where Charles was gone, lost to him and never found. They were far worse, for every night he woke up in cold sweat with his heart threatening to shatter.

He hated this with all of his might. Hated the slow pace of his journey; he was traveling for three days and still had not reached his destination. Mrs. Fairfax had begged him to stay, to be reasonable, he had a wound that was not yet healed –if it would ever heal completely at all- it's not wise to travel anywhere, or to leave the estate in the first place. He brushed her off, trying his very best not to be extremely rude. Adele was asking too many questions, none of them making any sense; and Jane was silent. She did not make any attempts to stop him, she knew better than that.


"Who do you think you are?!" He came in, door swinging open violently; he was shouting nearly at the top of his lungs, "How dare you! How dare you invade my mind!"

She said nothing, just looked at him with a nonchalant look, her ice-blue eyes calm as the night sea. She was beyond beautiful- her skin nothing short of perfection, crisp white hair that gracefully covered her shoulders, she was clad in a pure white dress.

He came up to her, closing the distance with wide steps, and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her all the way up to face him. "Emma," he said, his voice quieter, but the rage was still there, "Explain yourself."

She just laughed and wriggled her arm free. "You should be thanking me." She sat back down on the crimson bed, looking like a single little snowflake in the ocean of blood, "I was trying to save you."

He ignored her words and went on, "How did you manage to get into my head?" Indeed, this was a vital question, Emma, being a changeling with mind-reading abilities and not stable, was a dangerous threat to everyone in the Thornfield Hall, which is why Erik had made this- her secret room. With walls so thick that nothing and no one would be able to sneak through, not even a single thought.

"Oh darling," she smiled and patted the bed besides her, a rather obvious invitation for Mr. Lehnsherr to sit next to her, he disregarded it instantly and her smile fell. "How characteristically rude, Erik."

"Stop avoiding the question," he nearly growled out, he was tired of her antics, "Answer me."

"As I said," there were no more smiles or tricks anymore, "I was saving you, you poor oblivious fool."

"How did you get out?" Erik insisted, barely paying attention to her insults.

"How blind are you, loveling? What spell did that man cast over you?" She went on, treading on thin ice, "He would be better off dead… Do you want to know why?"

By the way Erik was gritting his teeth, he was sure that he would whittle them down. He was losing patience and time.

"He is a menace to our existence, to your existence and I want him dead."


He sighed, exhausted and worn out from the humid heat the summer had bestowed. Getting Emma to talk resulted in utter failure, and during that dreadful moment, he felt that he had no lead, no clue as to Charles' whereabouts. He wasn't sure why he was doing this, chasing after him, but after seeing the letter –Charles' letter- he had no option but to, among other obvious reasons that he chose to stubbornly deny.

It was left on the Charles' bed; it seemed that he had left everything behind, not just this small piece of paper. The handwriting was flawless, very feminine and sophisticated. Most part of the letter was torn, so from the bits and pieces all he could read was the place where Charles should go in case if something goes wrong, something about Todbringend Grange –the name made Erik cringe bone-deep- and a name 'Raven'.

The sanctuary that was mentioned in the letter was five days' ride from Thornfield Hall and the fact that Charles had departed almost a day earlier than Erik, was unnerving. He might as well be gone and Erik had doubts that he would be lucky enough to discover another helpful letter conveniently waiting for him.


The wooden floor below Charles' feet creaked disapprovingly, judging him for intruding. He smiled, he still remembered the places where the floor would creak and make a noise, even after all these years. It felt like an eternity since he had last been here, and he wanted to smile from the happy memories of this place, but he cannot. Not when he raised his head up and saw the sky, clear blue peeking out, a contrast to the horrid black of the walls, the stairs, and the second floor of the house was no longer there, as if it had never existed in the first place. All that remained are ruins of dust, dirt, and soot.

He came across the long hallway, the only thing that remained almost completely unharmed by the fire, and opened the door, or what was left of it, anyway. It used to be a reading room back then, now there was nothing left of what it used to be. No books to tell the stories, no chairs to welcome him, just complete and dead stillness.

This was the safe haven Charles comes back to, regardless that there is little left in here to protect him. The house, where they used to live, where all the memories are tucked away, would be a place Charles would come back to until the day he died.

The house had burned down when Charles was fourteen and his beloved sister, Raven, just thirteen. The flames had consumed the lives of their parents, leaving them alone and helpless in the cruel world. Truth be told, the house was set on fire. The people in the town had somehow found out about Charles and Raven and their abilities, thus the fear and hatred seeds were sown. On October 17th, a cold night, Charles woke up to a scream that was his mother's. Everything happened so fast that even now, after all these years of remembering and thorough analyzing, he still cannot recall all of the details. He remembered the heat, the fire devouring everything in its way, the sight of Raven crying over the dead body of their father, half of his body gruesome and burned, and the people- standing outside, looking at the house that soon would be nothing but remnants of the life and happiness the Xavier family once had. They survived, while the rest of the town assumed that they had died that night.

Life did not get much better as the years went by. Charles had turned seventeen and somehow managed to get a job at the docks, a change that was very much welcome. Raven tried to convince him that she was old enough to find some sort of work, but Charles refused, month after month- he would rather die than to not provide food for his sister, even if it was a poor excuse for food to begin with.

One day, however, Charles came back to their so-called home –an abandoned, almost falling apart shed on the outskirts of the town they lived in back then- and Raven was not alone. She was chirping away happily, talking about something with a man, by the looks of it that would be somewhere in his thirties. He turned to face Charles, when Raven exclaimed that her brother is here, and his face had close to no kindness on it. It made him feel uneasy, small fits of panic churned in his gut; the look he gave Charles, a look of evaluation –from head to toe- made Charles' heart flip. He regretted that it never occurred to him at the time to read the man's mind.

Everything had changed from that day on. There was no turning back, if only he had known that then. It was wonderful from the start, it truly was. After spending three years on the streets, it's a miracle that they survived at all, and now, having a chance to live under a normal roof, to be able to eat more than once in a couple of days and sleep under soft sheets- it was everything and even more that they could ever dream of. They were thankful that mysterious man had found them and given them new home. Although, Charles never told Raven about the creeping feeling of doubt and fear he had had whenever the man had laid his eyes on him.

They were not alone in the house. As the mysterious man –named Schmidt- had explained to Charles one day, this place was a school for gifted youngsters, such as Charles himself and Raven. And those words were true, there were children and young men and women of various ages, each one of them –a changeling with unique abilities. It was astonishing; every fiber of Charles' being was excited at the possibility to be around these people, to be taught of how to enhance his power. He needed it and he wanted to protect Raven from any harm that may ever come their way. Raven was thrilled too, but probably not as much as Charles was; her temper and attitude were causing some friction with the other changelings, that's how she was and will always be.

Charles cannot state the exact date, or even the month, when everything had drastically changed for the worse. It was beautiful and wonderful for so many months, and yet, in the blink of an eye, the wonders turned into nightmares. It was much later on, when the so-called 'modus operandi ' was explained as he was thoroughly, methodically 'taught an invaluable lesson,' his whole body in pain, crumbling from Schmidt's brutal thrusts.