Etched in History
Biography of a Mystery
Tapping her pen backwards and forwards on the desk, Rynne looked ahead, her gaze glazed over as her least favourite professor droned on about something she already knew. How was it that everyone else needed these revision sessions for their exams later on in the year, whilst Rynne herself could be told something once, and it would never be lost? It was true that philosophy was her favourite subject, but this man absolutely killed it, so she didn't even have the chance to just listen and be entertained by the thoughts of the great thinkers, instead doomed to allow her brain to melt into nothingness as the short, pot bellied man spoke in monotone. How excessively tedious.
It simply couldn't have been worse. Late afternoon, and the young woman could have been at home, working on her latest project, but no... Professor Williams had insisted that everyone attend his lecture, else marks would be deducted from the end of year score. Was he just threatening them? Rynne wouldn't have been surprised if he failed the person that didn't show, he was so pointlessly cruel to those he taught. The girl herself wasn't on his popular list, as once he had made an error about one of the theories he was trying to explain, and Rynne had the audacity to actually correct him. That was a mistake never committed again.
After what seemed like days, Williams decided to let everyone leave. Thank God, Rynne thought wryly, the inward thought making her smile. How apt, when much of her study was about whether that grand deity existed at all! She stretched, another student making a face at her when he heard the bones crack, stiffness set free from Rynne's body. Of an average build, Rynne always managed to make herself end up in the most strange positions as she leaned on her desk, and her body didn't like it one bit. She'd probably have to go to the doctor's to try and sort it out: she was always making her bones snap, and her stiffness was getting worse. God, she really hoped that it wasn't anything stupid like early signs of arthritis: she simply couldn't bear it!
At the age of 21, the long haired brunette was getting ready for her finals at the end of the year, and she still had so much to give. It was weird that she didn't go out often - so said her friends - and yet was often tired and irritable... but couldn't that just be due to stress she hadn't realised that she had been carrying? Rynne worked so well under pressure that she hadn't even spoken a word about fear for those dreaded exams, or when she was going to take the time to revise. Those that didn't know the lonely student thought that she was just uptight and cocky, but it wasn't the case. Why, when she had achieved a perfect set of results from all of her assignments so far?
That was enough about her university life, though. Maurynna de Lirmot wasn't exactly the most usual of people. Sent off to be adopted soon after her birth because of an apparently traumatic ordeal with her mother, the girl only had this strange name as her blood family's legacy: she had been told that her biological father was dead, whilst her mother was in an institution, so Rynne didn't mind it, the name being so unusual, reminding her of how lucky she really was. As no one had any idea who her father was, he could have been French or Italian, something like that, so why would she give up one of the few ties to her past? Not even her adoptive parents knew anything about before she was brought to them, but why should they care, either? They had wanted a child, and then they were given one: that was all that mattered.
So, apart from the terrible drama at Rynne's birth, she had a lovely time as a child. Oh, she was a prodigy, that was obvious from a young age, but that was just encouraged, her new parents proud of her no matter what she did. They were always a proper family, and loved each other dearly. That was what counted, wasn't it?
After passing her A Levels, the most obvious thing for Rynne to do was go to university. Disliking the pompous air of the Oxbridge schools, the girl then settled into another difficult to enter university, University College London, which also allowed her to leave her northern home properly, and venture out into the wide world herself. It was wonderful: where London was an enormous, bustling city, there was enough privacy for Rynne to enjoy, keeping herself fairly anonymous, just the way she liked it. Philosophy and Creative Writing were her fortes, so she followed those through as a joint course... and she loved her life.
Peace, though, was something that she craved now most of all. Her masterpiece was nearing completion, her first full novel, and Rynne hoped that in the next couple of weeks she could send it off to a publisher and finally reach her dream... to be a writer permanently. Smiling at the thought, the previous boredom that had cast such a dark cloud over the woman was replaced by a spark of ideas settling lightly on those azure eyes, making her rush as she wanted to get back to her shared flat, get up to her room and resume her typing.
Crossing a road, there was another of those shooting pains that bled across her chest, the girl then dropping down onto the tarmac as she had almost reached the other pavement. Now on her knees, her bag was left on the ground, Rynne's hands clutching in vain as the burning started again. It felt as if her whole body was being ripped in two as she shrieked out for help. Passers-by paused in their tracks as they saw who was obviously a university student holding herself in agony, three men picking her up between them, carefully taking her from the dangerous place she had fallen. The woman hadn't even noticed that traffic had stopped for her, a crowd gathering over what had become a bizarre attraction. She was far too busy worrying about her inability to breathe properly, and the world spinning around her. In another wave of torture, Rynne's muscles all went limp. Blackness had taken her into unconsciousness for the moment, losing her senses altogether. She didn't feel the men gently lying her down on the stone path, or even the strange whirring in the background. There was also no reason that she should have heard two sets of shoes running towards her, someone leaning down and trying to see what was the matter... but there must have been something there. After all, she had to be awake enough to understand what was going on when she murmured the word, "Doctor..."