Author's Note:
Sorry that I've been so long in updating. School, and life in general are very crazy for me. I make no promises as to when I'll finish the next chapter. The best I can say is that at least this one's one of the longer ones.
Chapter 8: The Library, At Last
"The young woman closed her eyes, seemingly sifting back through thoughts, time, and events. She then straightened up and took a deep breath.
" 'My birth and childhood are unimportant. I am of low rank, important to society in filling a place as laborer. I help constitute the mindless rabble of the peasantry; blessed in no way and allowed to possess nothing but the air we breathe, and not even that willingly. Though as I matured I had the fortune, or misfortune, to catch the eyes of the local nobility, manifested in the second son of Lord Du Bois. As my Lord was very attached to the drink, and his wife had long since passed away, the necessary paternal restrictions were nonexistent.
" 'He seemed kind. I was starving. I was invited into my Lord's manor. My family urged me to go. I was one less mouth to feed, and might influence some kindness to them from higher ranks. But it was all in vain.
" 'You might all assume that you know the end. No. We both fell in love that summer. I thought. The father, my Lord, was absent. His son, also my Lord, could have taken advantage of me at any time. He had the grace legendary of a true nobleman. Over the summer he tutored me in the ways of the upper class. I in turn, taught him about reality, and introduced him to the town and the people he would one day lord over. The villagers began to look forward to seeing us, the happy couple coming bearing gifts from the plenty that we were able to spare from the manor.
" 'I recall how we would sit on one of the hills beneath a great tree and watch the sunset…' She paused, a smile flitting across her face. It was the first sign of joy that had even touched her features since she had arrived.
" 'It was like a dream, and just as insubstantial. Before autumn came his true colors showed. This was all merely his way to seduce me into loving him. This noble was not satisfied with rape—rape is unwilling. This noble wanted not only a willing victim, but one motivated by love not money. At least with rape it is not deception. Horrible as it is, there is no illusion of love.
" 'He had his way with me, I the willing, loving sacrifice, visions of marriage and happiness filling my head. But as soon as I conceived I found myself on the street, heart broken, dreams shattered, filled with both rage and the child of a monster.'
"She stopped, face contorted with pain, emphasizing the ingrained lines that came form wearing such an expression for too long.
" 'I returned to the only other place I knew, my former home. But, of course, they would not take me in. They did not even acknowledge my existence. I had failed them. I pleaded with my father, my mother, my siblings, but they had long ago decided, if this should ever happen, to be deaf and blind to me, the one who had forsaken their ranks for the promise of prosperity.
" 'So I left. I was penniless and had conceived the bastard child of that devil! That's what this is!' She exclaimed, indicating the child she held. 'All bastard children are. Correction. They are children of devils. Any man or woman willing to subject this punishment on their lover or the product of their love,' she spat the word 'is a devil. I am a devil.'
"With this admittance restrained sobs shook her body. A priest made a move to get up and comfort her, but she gestured him back. 'No. I must finish. And I do not wish to dirty your holy hands.
" 'I left, and traveled as far as I could in the only places that would accept me, that would show me love—churches and cathedrals. These are some of the few places on this planet where one can find unconditional love.' She hinted a smile. 'I admit I was running form my problems, but this one problem no woman can run from for long, though men are very apt at running as well. As I progressed further across the country my burden grew heavier, both figuratively and literally.
" 'I requested sanctuary at a minor cathedral, and they took me in. They granted me room and board so that I could have my child, and I did. A child of devils born in the house of God. He's a devil himself, though God was merciful and granted that he would only be half a devil. I thought to at least be given the kindness of an innocent child, perfect, angelic, untouched by the hatred of the world. Instead it was scarred by our sin, as hideous as the act that devil planned from the day he laid eyes on me. A sin committed for his lust, my love. But, for my naivety, for the existence of my love, the child was spared half a face. Half of the heavenly image mirrored by God in creation remains. He is a mixture of what is sacred and what is not. But he is a monster! Man is claimed and created by God, but he is no man. He was produced by devils. He is a devil too! The Devil's mark is upon him, and He has claimed him for his own! I cannot even look upon him! That is why I have covered his face, and it must remain so forevermore. His imperfection, my sin, the Devil's mark, it must be hidden from innocent human eyes. You know how to deal with devils. He cannot harm you! Please, you must take him!' She was adamant and held the child away from her, offering him up. She set him on the floor and he, who had remained silent until then, burst out wailing and screaming, unending, as only infants can. The woman backed away quickly as if she had just dropped a poisonous creature. She averted her eyes and refused to look on him again. Instead she focused her imploring gaze onto the eldest of the monks. 'Please' she whispered. 'They refused me at the cathedral. I don't know where else to go, and I cannot murder my—my child.'
"The eldest monk nodded, and a look of relief spread over the young woman's face.
"I couldn't stand the screaming of the child any longer, and the monks seemed to be done questioning, so I darted forward, and drew him, you, to my chest. You quieted down once in my arms.
"The woman was ushered out. I never saw her again. Some of the monks remained to set up accommodations for you. After they had sorted things out, the head monk asked if I would like to help care for you. I assented, and though I was young at the time I have helped care for you ever since."
Timothy stopped. Erik was shaken, but refused to let it show.
"Are you all right?" Timothy asked.
"Yes, but what happened to her, my mother?"
"She died. Her eyes had seen too much hardship, and she had no more will. It was her last desire that she find a place for you to live. Though she said she wished you dead she could not kill you. Well, now you know."
Erik nodded. Now he knew.
The pair exited into one of the main hallways. The library. At last. Erik had almost forgotten where they had bee going.
Timothy led him into one of the obscure rows. He pulled forward a few books and reached behind them pulling out a tied roll of parchment.
"I found these a few days ago when I was looking for, well, a book. Don't open it here. It's a detailed map of the entire monastery. Very detailed. It shows quite a few passages I've never found. I knew you love architecture and that sort of thing." He leaned closer and whispered, "I thought you could do with a few really good hiding places. Have fun exploring." Timothy winked and stood back up, enjoying the ecstatic, almost maniacal look that was enflamed in Erik's eyes.
Erik hugged Timothy tight, unsure how else to express his gratitude in the restrictive silence of the library.
"I'll tell them I found you, but that they'll have to do that again themselves if they want you for anything." Erik smiled and hurried off to a hiding spot in which to study the map and begin his true exploration of the monastery.