Chapter 3

Constance lay quite still in her little wooden manger, too comfortable to move. Surrounded by thick blankets of festive colours, she couldn't possibly be any more comfortable. He had sat in his chair for the past hour or so just rocking her back and forth, a glazed expression on his face. Tis' the season to be jolly she had heard her father muttering when he tucked her in, a smile on his face, although what this meant she didn't know and he wouldn't tell her. She'd asked him over and over again but he just smiled and sat back in his chair every time. One day he had to answer.

This was now the third time she'd been in this place, the third day and she was beginning to like it. It felt safe, a lot more so than the dark place at least. She stretched her fingers, the only part of her body that she could control, closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.

Thomas sat next to her and watched her falling asleep, noticing how peaceful she looked when she slept. He slumped down in his chair and began to talk.

"Hey Caroline."

Constance's eyes opened on the right side of her head. She looked over at him adoringly. "Hello Thomas."

Thomas Ford's head slowly turned to the left. A petrified look came across his face as his eyes met hers. After a couple of seconds he jerked his head away covering his eyes. "No, this isn't right, you're not her." He stopped talking as he came across the grave truth. "You're me… talking to myself." He began to cry as an image of his wife came into his mind.

"No Thomas it's me, Caroline."

"No, it's not. Why am I doing this to myself?" he shouted in reply to his daughters statement.

"I miss you Caroline," he said before rushing out of the room, wiping his eyes as he went, realizing that he was finally losing it. It had taken 9 months but Thomas Ford had finally broken down.

The right side of Constance's face, Caroline's face, began to cry as she realized that she had just scared away her daughters last protector. Her husband.

Constance sat cross-legged next to her light, surrounded on all sides by shadow but protected by a beautiful white aura, a present from an angel, at least in Constance's eyes.

She stared into the soothing light, swaying slightly in the wind, which constantly changed direction, darting one-way and then another, making her hair flow behind her or quickly in front of her, blocking the precious light.

A sudden gust knocked Constance forwards. She tumbled over and rolled past the light towards the darkness, towards her terror once more. The light went out and she was plunged into darkness.

A couple of seconds passed. The wind stopped and a red flame appeared a short distance in front of her. Another ignited next to it, and another and another until they surrounded her in a circle of warmth. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the flames around her. She sensed something around her, felt the movement behind her and opened her eyes. A man was standing before her, his face in front of hers, their eyes meeting. Hazel eyes with a red tinge and a spark in the middle. Mischievous.

"Hello Constance," he said, still staring into her eyes, piercing her soul with his glare.

She didn't reply. She was frozen in fear, unable to move.

"Do you like the fire?" He inquired, pulling his face away from hers and taking a couple of steps back.

"It's warm," she replied not understanding what he wanted her to say.

"Yes, it has other uses too" he replied, "but you need not know about fire, except that it will keep you warm in this cold dark place." He had a smile across his face but he couldn't conceal the look in his eyes.

"I think you've met my friend. Did she tell you her name?"

"No, but she left me a light." Constance replied, remembering the white woman who had visited her, what seemed like a very long time ago.

"Ah, what use is light?" he questioned. "When fire gives you light and heat, keeps you safe in the dark. It'll all be all right Constance, trust me. Look into the flame."

She stared into the flame as he asked and vaguely remembered the white woman saying something about this man, but before she could remember, she was lying down, asleep in a ring of fire.

She woke up, lying in her manger all alone once more. "Yrev Doog" she whispered before getting comfortable, preparing for the long wait she would have to endure.