Chapter Two
"Born of such innocence, how little we save. Our spirits are tempered from cradle to grave. If one drop of virtue can somehow survive, From oceans of doubt our dreams can arise."
-Breathe, "Perfect Love"
Domino Village. 600 AD.
It was raining in the Village of Domino though it wasn't raining very hard. In fact the light drizzle was a relief after the many months of torrential rain that had so recently passed. It heralded the blanket of snowfall that would soon wrap up the countryside in stark silence. Children were outside playing and frolicking in the streets, trying to take advantage of such auspicious weather despite their being bundled up to the hilt with scarves, coats and caps.
Lights glowed from each and every one of the windows and the faint beads of condensation that misted the windows told the story of warmth and comfort indoors. It would certainly be a welcoming atmosphere that greeted those that passed over the thresholds of those doorways and gained entrance. Most importantly it would serve as protection from the chill that night would gradually bring.
One young girl peeked out of window and she indeed appeared a pitiful sight as she looked out at all the playing children in the street. Her nose was pressed against the cold pane of window glass and her eyes were so full of longing to go outside and join the children playing games in the road. There was a thick warm ivory shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her hair hung in plaits of light gold that was lief to almost blend in with the wool shawl but not quite. Her pallor was a trifle on the pale side save for the hint of rosy pinkness that brushed over the tops of her cheeks and that was thanks to the heat circulating in the cottage.
She sat on the window seat, propped up to a sitting position by a variety of multi-coloured cushions. Across her lap lay a patchwork quilt and some bits of unfinished sewing work that had been abandoned when she caught sight of all the activity outside but here she was stuck indoors with nothing to do but watch as they played and she couldn't.
The room was small but well lighted and cozy, the bed was situated in the center of the room and it was covered by scores of quilts and pillows. On shelves lining the walls were toys of all different types, predominantly dolls from every region in Guardia. Some of them were fashioned by the most elite toymakers of Guardia and wore resplendant costumes that somehow seemed out of place in this humble cottage room, others were a pile of rags that had make-shift eyes composed of black buttons. However they shared the same place on the shelves and were most definitely equals. Fairytale books from every imaginable place lay on the nightstand table, most bound in rich leathers. Scattered on top the books where miscellaneous trinkets: A peacock plume, two small turquoise stones, a purple crayon, a small violet ready for pressing and a emerald green ribbon. This was a room that belonged to a child.
The girl looked down the sewing in her lap and twirled a piece of ruby flax around her fingers with distraction, her mind obviously wasn't in the room with her body. It was someplace else entirely. She then pushed the quilt aside along with the sewing and then got up from the window seat. Rising to her feet she could feel the weakness pouring through her limbs and she caught ahold of the wall in order to draw support from it.
"Legs, don't fail me now." the girl murmured in a soft and serene voice and then she attempted a tentative step toward the direction of the nightstand which was the next closest thing to cling to. Her legs felt heavy and she could barely pick them up off the floor but she took a chance and removed her hands from the wall in order to make it over toward the stand. The stand teetered toward her, or maybe it was she to it but at any rate she caught the edge just before her knees gave out on her and her body lowered to the floor in defeat as an aching sensation stung at her muscles. She whimpered and pressed her cheek against the rough oak, it was the only sign of weakness before she raised herself up from the ground with the strength of her arms and then shifted to cling to the mattress of the bed, the safe haven that she sought had been reached.
Clambering up onto the bed, she burrowed herself underneath the covers to look for something. And for a moment she was only a lump under the vast sea of quilts and pillows. She surfaced holding a china doll of fair colouring and luminous purple eyes almost as similar as her own. In fact the doll and the girl looked surprisingly alike. They even wore their hair in the same style, plaits falling down long and straight. The doll was lovingly rested against the cushions and the girl picked up a book from the stand, "Dendoro Phantoms & Specters" and then she opened it up to the place where she marked her place with a cream colored ribbon.
The stove heater rattled in the kitchen and the girl looked up with calm purple eyes, evidentally she was used to the noise that it made for she didn't even start or flinch. "Mother? Do you need any help in there." She called out as she heard pans rattle and dishes clatter against the wooden counters.
"No! You get your rest, Corrine Linnea Graie." The voice said with the faintest trace of bitterness mixed with nonchalance. Corrine sensed it and turned her head back to the words printed on the parchment page. Tears stung in her eyes but she didn't surrender to them, she was made of much stronger stuff then to just lose control of her emotions suddenly.
"I feel a little bit better." She whispered low enough so that her mother didn't hear her. Did it really matter anyways?
"The doctor gave me orders to keep you in bed and that is what I will do. Besides that Fiona and Marco are coming by tonight and you should be in bed where you won't have the possibility of getting them sick. Fiona is expecting soon you know and I don't want to endanger my future grandchildren." The mother said briskly enough to send Corrine sinking down into the covers, she reached over and clutched her doll into her arms and burrowed so that only her eyes peeked out.
"Mother?" Corrine faltered and then heard footsteps sound through the kitchen before her mother peeked into the room. Mrs. Graie was a very beautiful woman with honey blonde hair and flashing green eyes. She didn't resemble a motherly figure in any way but one could not help but note the wearied lines that edged her eyes and hands that had seen too much farm work. The way she looked on her daughter gave one to wonder if she actually loved Corrine. Lurking in those emerald orbs were traces of resentment and exaspiration that intensified when talking to her.
"What?" She demanded as she wiped her hands on the large white apron that she wore.
"I could sweep or go out into the garden to get some vegetables for dinner." Corrine offered as she felt the ache in her limbs momentarily pass away.
"You can't go outside! That would be suicidal for you, do you want to get any sicker?" She said, widening her eyes with incredulity and leaned against the doorframe of Corrine's room.
"I want to help. I feel like dead weight." Corrine pleaded with large purple eyes and clutched her doll tightly. Now Valeria Graie saw her daughter do that and inwardly scorned that her 16 year old daughter should do that especially when all girls in Domino Village gave up toys at 13 and married at 14. It just didn't seem right to her.
~"It will be a miracle if she makes it to her 17th birthday much less the spring. Just let her rest and enjoy her last months"~
"Too many cooks spoil the pot. You can stay there and try to get better.. I will bring you a bowl of beef stew, some bread and a mug of cider once I get things straightened up in the kitchen." Mrs. Graie said as she turned her back and started to walk out of the room. Corrine threw off her covers and once against tested the ground with her feet. There was no shaking so she took a few steps toward the doorway and looked out. She was very tall and slender, built like an ancient grecian sylph. Her features were elven and had a surreal ethereal quality to them. A beauty that was heightened by the promise of death.
"Did I happen to get anything from Toma?" Corrine inquired as she stepped into the kitchen and toward the stove that was the main source of heat for everything in the cottage, the fireplace in the living room only being used on special occasions.
"I haven't heard from Toma in quite a while. No doubt he is off on yet another of his harebrained adventures." Mrs. Graie said as she shuffled about the kitchen with a broom in her hand. She could of shooed Corrine back off to bed but she lacked the patience for it.
"I can imagine." Corrine said as she got a dreamy look on her face. "Last month he sent me a oriental kite to fly when the winds of march blow through the Valley. I can't wait to try it out." Corrine whispered and felt the cool wood caress her cheek as she leaned against the doorframe. "He's been everywhere and he has been promising to take me on his next great adventure." She smiled and realized that she was now talking to herself, her mother had stopped listening awhile ago.
Corrine knew her mother didn't like her and she had accepted that all her life, she never let her heart fall too far into her stomach when she sensed the chill in which her mother addressed her. It wasn't just now, it had been 4 years ago, 10 years ago; it started the day she had been born.
"Toma spoils you entirely too much. If he didn't humor you, you wouldn't be playing with dolls and reading fairy tales at sixteen. Most girls have husbands and children at that age." Mrs. Graie went off on her own tangent as she opened the back door and swept the dust out briskly.
"No one wants me, mother. I am sick all the time." And to punctuate that, Corrine's slender form started to wrack in a coughing fit and she covered her mouth with the sleeve of her nightshift to prevent the spreading of the germs that her mother so constantly worried about. "I don't have a body that could bear children, it would kill me. The whole purpose of marriage is to bear children, it would be futile for me to enter into it. I will stay single, I am content." Corrine said resolutely as she walked over to the kitchen and looked out at the small garden that she had tended in between sick spells all last year. Summer had been pleasant enough that she could stay outside for long periods of time. In fact the sun had taken away her cough for a good two months and for a moment made her appear almost as healthy as any other girl, but then autumn arrived and the cough struck once again. The violets were her cherished treasure as well as the white morning glories. She never cared much for roses, they were too grand for her simple tastes.
"Look at Fiona. She had her pick of every eligible bachlor in Domino Village, she was quite the queen among the lads." Mrs. Graie bragged about Fiona to Corrine. Corrine merely smiled and listened, nodding her head in response. She was used to this as well. Surprisingly it didn't bother her, she was quite aware that Fiona was the beauty of the family. No, she wouldn't grudge Fiona those laurels or the many admirers she had.
"Fiona will no doubt have beautiful children." Corrine interjected in as she continued to look outside at the rain running rivulets down the windowpane. She then turned quiet, she didn't even hear when her mother started to talk. The rain was temporary, it never lasted forever. One moment it was pouring from a vengeful sky, next the sun was out and blessing the earth with its safety. There was a promise in each day even though at times it was of the sad and melancholy nature.
"I didn't bring flowers to father's grave last week..." Corrine remembered in a whispered breath. Her hand moved to trace a flower like pattern against the steam on the glass. It had been a tradition that she always took flowers to the grave, even in her worst weeks. Due to the prescription for constant bedrest, she wasn't allowed outside all that much. She missed those pilgrimages to the little churchyard where her father's body lay. During those times she raised her eyes up to the sky and prayed to whatever was up there, sometimes she mentioned her hopes, sometimes she prayed for the safety of others but always she cried for she remembered her father when everyone in the family had forgotten how good he had been to them. At times.. she wished that she could be with him, was that a selfish request?
"Once spring comes, your father will have a whole slew of flowers on his grave from the rain. One missed week won't change that." Mrs. Graie said flippantly and then took out ingredients for a pie from the cupboard.
Corrine was about to say that he liked it when people brought flowers to the grave but she knew that would earn her a funny look and a biting remark from her mother. She was sensitive when it came to her father's memory. Anything that her mother said about him would hurt her for days afterwards so she kept quiet. No need to pursue that subject further. She turned away from the window and was at a loss for words, what could she say to a person that had been virtually a stranger to her all her 16 years? The person that she had even been able to have decent conversations with was gods know where and she was left drowning in a sea of bittersweet memories. No ship to save her, no life vest to hold onto. She glanced at the sideboard where all the food was kept in warming plates and then over at the table where the places were set for 3: Her mother, Fiona and Marco. The food turned her stomach as a sudden lose of appetite set in, she didn't belong here in this family, she didn't belong in the village. She belonged nowhere.
Without saying anything Corrine fled back to her room. It was an easy task since her mother was preoccupied with the preparation of dinner. With speed she ran over to the chamber pot as the bile rose in her stomach, she hoped that she would make it in time. Her hands gripped the side as she retched into it and like floodgate the tears were released from her eyes as well. As she cleansed her stomach, she cleansed her emotions. It was blessed release from the fear and sadness that so often touched her heart when she thought about the future.
She finished and sat back, pushing the chamber pot aside weakly. There were faint shadows underneath her eyes and the tears were crystalline upon her cheeks. She sat there staring at the shining brass, not seeing anything past it and not really wanting to.
"I am going to die..." Corrine's voice was faint but it wasn't as though she was saying it with sudden realization. No, she had known for the past year that she would die. It had been all a matter of playing a waiting game with fate and her flucuating health. Most of the time she had accepted it calmly and placidly, pretending that she wasn't aware of it at least to her family and the doctors. Talking as if she would most assuredly live to see the snow fall that happened in late winter, see the cherry tree blossom in the yard during the spring, fly kites and swim in the summer. She pretended she was a normal girl who could do things that others could do when in her heart she realized that she wasn't and that just in the nature of survival, everyone would only leave her further behind.
She struggled to her feet and walked toward the bed, feeling weak both emotionally and physically. Everything was beckoning her to crawl inside the covers and sleep did sound inviting right about now. Once she was under the covers she wrapped her arms around the doll and brought it close, curling into a fetal position as silent tears rolled down her cheeks yet again. They were completely unstoppable and she didn't bother trying, after all no one was watching.
"Father..." She whimpered as her eyes closed of their own free will and blessed darkness took over. At least in sleep there was escape from reality.
"Born of such innocence, how little we save. Our spirits are tempered from cradle to grave. If one drop of virtue can somehow survive, From oceans of doubt our dreams can arise."
-Breathe, "Perfect Love"
Domino Village. 600 AD.
It was raining in the Village of Domino though it wasn't raining very hard. In fact the light drizzle was a relief after the many months of torrential rain that had so recently passed. It heralded the blanket of snowfall that would soon wrap up the countryside in stark silence. Children were outside playing and frolicking in the streets, trying to take advantage of such auspicious weather despite their being bundled up to the hilt with scarves, coats and caps.
Lights glowed from each and every one of the windows and the faint beads of condensation that misted the windows told the story of warmth and comfort indoors. It would certainly be a welcoming atmosphere that greeted those that passed over the thresholds of those doorways and gained entrance. Most importantly it would serve as protection from the chill that night would gradually bring.
One young girl peeked out of window and she indeed appeared a pitiful sight as she looked out at all the playing children in the street. Her nose was pressed against the cold pane of window glass and her eyes were so full of longing to go outside and join the children playing games in the road. There was a thick warm ivory shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her hair hung in plaits of light gold that was lief to almost blend in with the wool shawl but not quite. Her pallor was a trifle on the pale side save for the hint of rosy pinkness that brushed over the tops of her cheeks and that was thanks to the heat circulating in the cottage.
She sat on the window seat, propped up to a sitting position by a variety of multi-coloured cushions. Across her lap lay a patchwork quilt and some bits of unfinished sewing work that had been abandoned when she caught sight of all the activity outside but here she was stuck indoors with nothing to do but watch as they played and she couldn't.
The room was small but well lighted and cozy, the bed was situated in the center of the room and it was covered by scores of quilts and pillows. On shelves lining the walls were toys of all different types, predominantly dolls from every region in Guardia. Some of them were fashioned by the most elite toymakers of Guardia and wore resplendant costumes that somehow seemed out of place in this humble cottage room, others were a pile of rags that had make-shift eyes composed of black buttons. However they shared the same place on the shelves and were most definitely equals. Fairytale books from every imaginable place lay on the nightstand table, most bound in rich leathers. Scattered on top the books where miscellaneous trinkets: A peacock plume, two small turquoise stones, a purple crayon, a small violet ready for pressing and a emerald green ribbon. This was a room that belonged to a child.
The girl looked down the sewing in her lap and twirled a piece of ruby flax around her fingers with distraction, her mind obviously wasn't in the room with her body. It was someplace else entirely. She then pushed the quilt aside along with the sewing and then got up from the window seat. Rising to her feet she could feel the weakness pouring through her limbs and she caught ahold of the wall in order to draw support from it.
"Legs, don't fail me now." the girl murmured in a soft and serene voice and then she attempted a tentative step toward the direction of the nightstand which was the next closest thing to cling to. Her legs felt heavy and she could barely pick them up off the floor but she took a chance and removed her hands from the wall in order to make it over toward the stand. The stand teetered toward her, or maybe it was she to it but at any rate she caught the edge just before her knees gave out on her and her body lowered to the floor in defeat as an aching sensation stung at her muscles. She whimpered and pressed her cheek against the rough oak, it was the only sign of weakness before she raised herself up from the ground with the strength of her arms and then shifted to cling to the mattress of the bed, the safe haven that she sought had been reached.
Clambering up onto the bed, she burrowed herself underneath the covers to look for something. And for a moment she was only a lump under the vast sea of quilts and pillows. She surfaced holding a china doll of fair colouring and luminous purple eyes almost as similar as her own. In fact the doll and the girl looked surprisingly alike. They even wore their hair in the same style, plaits falling down long and straight. The doll was lovingly rested against the cushions and the girl picked up a book from the stand, "Dendoro Phantoms & Specters" and then she opened it up to the place where she marked her place with a cream colored ribbon.
The stove heater rattled in the kitchen and the girl looked up with calm purple eyes, evidentally she was used to the noise that it made for she didn't even start or flinch. "Mother? Do you need any help in there." She called out as she heard pans rattle and dishes clatter against the wooden counters.
"No! You get your rest, Corrine Linnea Graie." The voice said with the faintest trace of bitterness mixed with nonchalance. Corrine sensed it and turned her head back to the words printed on the parchment page. Tears stung in her eyes but she didn't surrender to them, she was made of much stronger stuff then to just lose control of her emotions suddenly.
"I feel a little bit better." She whispered low enough so that her mother didn't hear her. Did it really matter anyways?
"The doctor gave me orders to keep you in bed and that is what I will do. Besides that Fiona and Marco are coming by tonight and you should be in bed where you won't have the possibility of getting them sick. Fiona is expecting soon you know and I don't want to endanger my future grandchildren." The mother said briskly enough to send Corrine sinking down into the covers, she reached over and clutched her doll into her arms and burrowed so that only her eyes peeked out.
"Mother?" Corrine faltered and then heard footsteps sound through the kitchen before her mother peeked into the room. Mrs. Graie was a very beautiful woman with honey blonde hair and flashing green eyes. She didn't resemble a motherly figure in any way but one could not help but note the wearied lines that edged her eyes and hands that had seen too much farm work. The way she looked on her daughter gave one to wonder if she actually loved Corrine. Lurking in those emerald orbs were traces of resentment and exaspiration that intensified when talking to her.
"What?" She demanded as she wiped her hands on the large white apron that she wore.
"I could sweep or go out into the garden to get some vegetables for dinner." Corrine offered as she felt the ache in her limbs momentarily pass away.
"You can't go outside! That would be suicidal for you, do you want to get any sicker?" She said, widening her eyes with incredulity and leaned against the doorframe of Corrine's room.
"I want to help. I feel like dead weight." Corrine pleaded with large purple eyes and clutched her doll tightly. Now Valeria Graie saw her daughter do that and inwardly scorned that her 16 year old daughter should do that especially when all girls in Domino Village gave up toys at 13 and married at 14. It just didn't seem right to her.
~"It will be a miracle if she makes it to her 17th birthday much less the spring. Just let her rest and enjoy her last months"~
"Too many cooks spoil the pot. You can stay there and try to get better.. I will bring you a bowl of beef stew, some bread and a mug of cider once I get things straightened up in the kitchen." Mrs. Graie said as she turned her back and started to walk out of the room. Corrine threw off her covers and once against tested the ground with her feet. There was no shaking so she took a few steps toward the doorway and looked out. She was very tall and slender, built like an ancient grecian sylph. Her features were elven and had a surreal ethereal quality to them. A beauty that was heightened by the promise of death.
"Did I happen to get anything from Toma?" Corrine inquired as she stepped into the kitchen and toward the stove that was the main source of heat for everything in the cottage, the fireplace in the living room only being used on special occasions.
"I haven't heard from Toma in quite a while. No doubt he is off on yet another of his harebrained adventures." Mrs. Graie said as she shuffled about the kitchen with a broom in her hand. She could of shooed Corrine back off to bed but she lacked the patience for it.
"I can imagine." Corrine said as she got a dreamy look on her face. "Last month he sent me a oriental kite to fly when the winds of march blow through the Valley. I can't wait to try it out." Corrine whispered and felt the cool wood caress her cheek as she leaned against the doorframe. "He's been everywhere and he has been promising to take me on his next great adventure." She smiled and realized that she was now talking to herself, her mother had stopped listening awhile ago.
Corrine knew her mother didn't like her and she had accepted that all her life, she never let her heart fall too far into her stomach when she sensed the chill in which her mother addressed her. It wasn't just now, it had been 4 years ago, 10 years ago; it started the day she had been born.
"Toma spoils you entirely too much. If he didn't humor you, you wouldn't be playing with dolls and reading fairy tales at sixteen. Most girls have husbands and children at that age." Mrs. Graie went off on her own tangent as she opened the back door and swept the dust out briskly.
"No one wants me, mother. I am sick all the time." And to punctuate that, Corrine's slender form started to wrack in a coughing fit and she covered her mouth with the sleeve of her nightshift to prevent the spreading of the germs that her mother so constantly worried about. "I don't have a body that could bear children, it would kill me. The whole purpose of marriage is to bear children, it would be futile for me to enter into it. I will stay single, I am content." Corrine said resolutely as she walked over to the kitchen and looked out at the small garden that she had tended in between sick spells all last year. Summer had been pleasant enough that she could stay outside for long periods of time. In fact the sun had taken away her cough for a good two months and for a moment made her appear almost as healthy as any other girl, but then autumn arrived and the cough struck once again. The violets were her cherished treasure as well as the white morning glories. She never cared much for roses, they were too grand for her simple tastes.
"Look at Fiona. She had her pick of every eligible bachlor in Domino Village, she was quite the queen among the lads." Mrs. Graie bragged about Fiona to Corrine. Corrine merely smiled and listened, nodding her head in response. She was used to this as well. Surprisingly it didn't bother her, she was quite aware that Fiona was the beauty of the family. No, she wouldn't grudge Fiona those laurels or the many admirers she had.
"Fiona will no doubt have beautiful children." Corrine interjected in as she continued to look outside at the rain running rivulets down the windowpane. She then turned quiet, she didn't even hear when her mother started to talk. The rain was temporary, it never lasted forever. One moment it was pouring from a vengeful sky, next the sun was out and blessing the earth with its safety. There was a promise in each day even though at times it was of the sad and melancholy nature.
"I didn't bring flowers to father's grave last week..." Corrine remembered in a whispered breath. Her hand moved to trace a flower like pattern against the steam on the glass. It had been a tradition that she always took flowers to the grave, even in her worst weeks. Due to the prescription for constant bedrest, she wasn't allowed outside all that much. She missed those pilgrimages to the little churchyard where her father's body lay. During those times she raised her eyes up to the sky and prayed to whatever was up there, sometimes she mentioned her hopes, sometimes she prayed for the safety of others but always she cried for she remembered her father when everyone in the family had forgotten how good he had been to them. At times.. she wished that she could be with him, was that a selfish request?
"Once spring comes, your father will have a whole slew of flowers on his grave from the rain. One missed week won't change that." Mrs. Graie said flippantly and then took out ingredients for a pie from the cupboard.
Corrine was about to say that he liked it when people brought flowers to the grave but she knew that would earn her a funny look and a biting remark from her mother. She was sensitive when it came to her father's memory. Anything that her mother said about him would hurt her for days afterwards so she kept quiet. No need to pursue that subject further. She turned away from the window and was at a loss for words, what could she say to a person that had been virtually a stranger to her all her 16 years? The person that she had even been able to have decent conversations with was gods know where and she was left drowning in a sea of bittersweet memories. No ship to save her, no life vest to hold onto. She glanced at the sideboard where all the food was kept in warming plates and then over at the table where the places were set for 3: Her mother, Fiona and Marco. The food turned her stomach as a sudden lose of appetite set in, she didn't belong here in this family, she didn't belong in the village. She belonged nowhere.
Without saying anything Corrine fled back to her room. It was an easy task since her mother was preoccupied with the preparation of dinner. With speed she ran over to the chamber pot as the bile rose in her stomach, she hoped that she would make it in time. Her hands gripped the side as she retched into it and like floodgate the tears were released from her eyes as well. As she cleansed her stomach, she cleansed her emotions. It was blessed release from the fear and sadness that so often touched her heart when she thought about the future.
She finished and sat back, pushing the chamber pot aside weakly. There were faint shadows underneath her eyes and the tears were crystalline upon her cheeks. She sat there staring at the shining brass, not seeing anything past it and not really wanting to.
"I am going to die..." Corrine's voice was faint but it wasn't as though she was saying it with sudden realization. No, she had known for the past year that she would die. It had been all a matter of playing a waiting game with fate and her flucuating health. Most of the time she had accepted it calmly and placidly, pretending that she wasn't aware of it at least to her family and the doctors. Talking as if she would most assuredly live to see the snow fall that happened in late winter, see the cherry tree blossom in the yard during the spring, fly kites and swim in the summer. She pretended she was a normal girl who could do things that others could do when in her heart she realized that she wasn't and that just in the nature of survival, everyone would only leave her further behind.
She struggled to her feet and walked toward the bed, feeling weak both emotionally and physically. Everything was beckoning her to crawl inside the covers and sleep did sound inviting right about now. Once she was under the covers she wrapped her arms around the doll and brought it close, curling into a fetal position as silent tears rolled down her cheeks yet again. They were completely unstoppable and she didn't bother trying, after all no one was watching.
"Father..." She whimpered as her eyes closed of their own free will and blessed darkness took over. At least in sleep there was escape from reality.
