Dark Rain: Book 1 of The Aetherium Saga

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Dark Rain: Book 1 of The Aetherium Saga Page 2

by Jilly MacKenzie


  He was dressed in the usual dark blue Drakestoke day apparel, like herself, although his pants were tucked in at shin, underneath a pair of brown work boots. Half-melted snow was stuck in the laces and seams. He must have work duty outside. I don’t recall seeing him before…

  She gave a resigned chuckle and turned to face her strange observer, ‘Care to help a clueless newbie?’ Lenore asked half-laughing. He moved towards her, and his heavy boots thumped on the dark wood flooring. He was older than her, perhaps mid-thirties, and his face had a sternness to it, that even his joking attitude did not soften.

  ‘Of course,’ he smiled with a mocking bow, ‘Right this way,’ and he gestured to the end of the hallway, as two staff members rushed by the end exit with trays of condiments. He briefly ducked out of sight of them, as they sped past, and eyed Lenore uneasily with a forced smile, as if pretending nothing had happened. So he isn’t meant to be here.

  Lenore found him unsettling, and his face bore a variety of faint scars, barely noticeable, but they were there. Though, even more to Lenore, was the unsettling way his eyes seemed to seethe with fury, while his face smiled.

  ‘Deryk Lloyd,’ he stated as he held his hand outstretched, stopping Lenore as she stepped to leave the hallway. Lloyd… She smiled and was about to return the nicety when a delicately thin arm hooked around her own.

  ‘Come on, you’ll miss all the yummy good stuff!’ An excited female voice interrupted the interaction, and Lenore looked down to see the small blonde girl from before, pulling her away from Deryk.

  Lenore had stolen a glance back at Deryk just before she rounded the corner. And his face unnerved her. It had turned dark. As if scheming.

  Just as Lenore was about to tug her arm out of the young girls grasp, the little stranger suddenly let go of her own accord, and she stopped just before the dining hall entrance.

  ‘You mustn’t speak to him. He’s bad. Very bad,’ the girl warned.

  ‘He’s the worst in this place,’ a male voice concurred. It was the rugged man that was seen with the girl yesterday. Lenore immediately identified his accent as Swedish.

  The blonde girl looked up at him and smiled, then glanced back at Lenore.

  ‘Come, eat with us. Tell us exciting new things about yourself and the world outside,’ she insisted, and Lenore obliged, following them inside to the lavish buffet.

  Lenore was instantly taken by the cacophony of aromas hitting her nostrils, and she became suddenly aware of her own hunger. Organic and sustainable foods filled her vision. Coffee, meats, fresh breads, sweet fruits. All laid out beautifully on silverware.

  The dining hall itself was a lengthy room, beautifully arched with a wooden panelled ceiling. And its floorspace contained the largest amount of tables she had ever seen, evenly situated, and carefully laid out with more silver tableware.

  Many faces were watching her, with tongues uttering a variety of Western European accents and languages. Lenore wondered if having a British patient at Drakestoke was a strange occurrence. Are myself, the small blonde, and Deryk the only ones?

  Choosing a delicious variety of foodstuffs, she then followed the seemingly friendly duo to a small empty table on the far side of the room, beside a huge carved stone fireplace.

  The warmth of the flames was comforting, as Lenore gazed out of the large frosty window nearest her. She took in the beautiful, almost blinding, view of a frozen fountain and the large expanse of a snow covered lawn, over which a herd of red deer were passing through.

  ‘I’m Cat,’ said the small blonde, ‘And this hairy lump is Axel,’ she nudged the man beside her with her tiny elbow, and he flashed her a crooked toothy grin, exposing canines which were more prominent and pointed than average.

  He wasn't particularly large, but his muscled stature, and ruffled brown hair with grey and black tips, gave him an imposing edge.

  ‘I’m Lenore,’ she replied to both of them, and proceeded to take a sip of nectar-like fruit juice.

  She began scanning the faces around them. A bedraggled girl was attempting to pull her hair out, while an orderly tried to stop her. A blonde boy was eyeing Lenore suspiciously, and she cast her eyes in a different direction, landing on a dark-haired girl who was bent over a book, sullenly, tears running down her face.

  Lenore noticed something similar with all of them. Despite some of their worn appearances, every patient in the room was beautiful. Physically attractive. Each with fine aesthetic features. IGS-approved features. Physical traits that were tirelessly sought out by families the world over.

  She could see green eyes, multi-tone hair, even noses, chiselled features, strong jaws, full lips, toned bodies. The IGS may have brought about the abundance of beautiful specimens, but they cannot prevent the prevalence of psychological and behavioural issues, even if the amount of cases these days are very few. Or at least, very unreported. At least all these people have generous parents who opted for a lavish life here, rather than having them destroyed.

  Lenore looked in disbelief at the beautiful and broken people around her, a good number of which probably had no mental health issues at all, but are kept here because they lacked certain traits their parents had desired for them.

  She instinctively reached up and touched her left temple, from which her white streak of hair sprouted proudly from. A new feature deemed aesthetically desirable by the IGS. A simple stupid feature like this could be a parents decision between keeping their child, or investing in rehabilitation of their ‘unwanted’ child, or choosing the worst option, destruction.

  ‘Wow, you have a streak! So beautiful’ Cat exclaimed and reached over to twirl it between her fingers, smiling in wonder. Lenore managed a small smile and continued to pick at her food, now assessing at the faces in front of her.

  Cat was one of the most delicate specimens Lenore had ever seen. Small framed, with a doll-like face, complete with large, brown eyes. Her nose was small and slightly upturned, and her small full lips were naturally curled up at the corners, giving a permanent little smile. It was a face which exuded innocence, and one could not help but smile back at it. Cat’s short mass of glossy blonde hair, was so beautifully curled that it seemed to defy gravity.

  Her companion, Axel, was the complete opposite of the tiny creature he looked so lovingly at. His body was hard, the Drakestoke top hugged his defined form. His mousy brown hair consisted of multi-toned hairs, each strand was tipped with black, and it was pushed up and back from his face. A few matted, jagged points flopped down in front of his forehead.

  Axels face was wide, angular, unquestionably masculine, with brows which made him seem both brooding and enticing, set above watchful amber eyes. His sharp jaw and chin was covered in dark stubble, and the age-old term 'devilishly handsome' sprung to Lenore’s mind.

  It wasn’t until he swept his hair fully back with his hand that Lenore noticed something she had never seen before. His ears were pointed at the tops. She looked down at her food, to control her curiosity-driven instinct to stare and evaluate. My goodness, he’s a Splice! IGS’s disgusting underground scheme of crossing human DNA with that of other organisms. I never thought any of the results of their experiments lived past a couple of years, yet Axel looks to be around his mid-twenties. The IGS has been doing this for decades! I bet there are others like him.

  She took a deep breath, and calmed her racing mind. I must stay on track. My mission is to find the identity and purpose of the rogue Anuna. I must keep on track.

  ‘Have you both been here long?’ she asked, glancing at both Cat and Axel in an attempt to recover her straying thoughts with continued conversation.

  ‘I’ve lost count of the years,’ Axel mused, biting into a strip of dry bacon he held firmly in his fist. Cat stroked his arm softly, ‘He was already here when I arrived, 5 years ago,’ she clarified, thinking back to that dark winters night five years earlier.

  A power out, Cat recalled, lost in thought for a moment, dark, and cold. Confusion at being abandoned here by
my family. Frightened and freezing. She sighed a shaky breath and tears began rising in her large bronze eyes.

  She looked up at Axel who was watching her with intense concern.

  ‘He crept out of the darkness when I needed someone most. Kept me warm. And the next day, when the light returned, I fell in love.’ With the man, and this place. It quickly became my new home, she happily admitted to herself, hugging Axels arm.

  She then reached forward with a big smile, and touched Lenore’s hand reassuringly.

  ‘Believe me, it’s really not that bad here,’ she said with a contented exhale, and rested her head on Axels shoulder.

  Lenore smiled softly at the couple in front of her. I’m glad they found happiness in the misery of IGS confinement.

  ‘So, were you the last person to arrive here, before me?’ quizzed Lenore.

  ‘Oh no, there was Anubis,’ Cat’s face lit up as she answered.

  ‘And Deryk,’ Axel added, with a growl.

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly as she stroked Axels chin.

  ‘They arrived within weeks of each other, more than 2 years ago now I think.’

  ‘Anubis… that’s a strange name,’ Lenore remarked. Jackal-headed Egyptian God of funerals. He guides and judges souls.

  Lenore’s 6-year ECIT training included intensive, in-depth learning of Anunnaki influence throughout the ages, all over the world. They most famously appeared as gods and deities in ancient Mesopotamia, and Egypt. Later morphing through history as Roman and Greek gods, and even later, as Biblical angels and demons, and even merging into monotheism. As the one God himself.

  Human creation, Elohim and Nephilim. Angels and demons. Gods, or God. All are connected. One and the same. Every faith on Earth can trace its ideas and stories back to ancient Mesopotamia. Striking similarities in all religions, and all of them beginning with the Anunnaki, who ruled over us during the first civilisations.

  Is this, Anubis, the one I am looking for? Seems fitting that an Anuna will tether onto somebody using that name.

  Lenore looked around again, scanning the faces down the table, and locked eyes with the stern face of Deryk who was seated a number of tables from her. A male orderly stood closely behind him, watching him eat.

  ‘Is he here?’ Lenore wondered, turning back to her companions and taking a couple of grapes into her mouth.

  ‘Who?’ Cat puzzled.

  ‘Anubis.’

  Cat exploded with a joyous giggle into her hands, looking up at Axel who was also amused.

  ‘Anubis is a girl!’ She squeaked out between giggles, but then she quietened and her face turned serious.

  ‘She is never here,’ Cat began, ‘At least never when we are all here. She is kept separate to us all,’ Cat shrugged, 'I don't know why though. She seems harmless.’

  ‘She’s the only one housed in the isolation wing,’ stated Axel. Cat looked at him pointedly.

  ‘Quite right,’ she said in a low voice, ‘And remember your promise to me, wolfie. You won’t go back there.’ She nuzzled her tiny face into his large hand.

  Lenore raised an eyebrow, ‘You were in isolation, Axel?’

  He nodded and sighed, ‘Yes, two weeks I think.’

  ‘Much longer than was originally planned, because he could not behave!’ Cat snapped.

  Axel met Lenore's concerned gaze.

  ‘It wasn’t bad. Just normal rooms really,’ he then stroked Cats hair. ‘But I wanted to get back to you,’ he said softly to her.

  ‘They already believed me. You would have been out much sooner if you had just cooperated and shushed your noise,’ she huffed.

  ‘It’s been almost three years now, little one,’ he purred.

  ‘Around the time of Anubis and Deryk’s arrival?’ Lenore probed, already creating a timeline of Drakestoke events in her mind.

  ‘Actually, because of his arrival,’ Cat answered meekly.

  ‘That man is a piece of shit,’ Axel growled under his breath, stabbing a piece of bacon with his fork. Cat sighed and turned to Lenore.

  ‘Deryk took a liking to me,’ she continued, and Axel tensed beside her. ‘He wouldn’t leave me alone,’ she frowned. ‘Axel protected me. As he always does.’

  Axel managed a short exhaled chuckle.

  ‘After the orderlies managed to drag me off him, he looked like he did the day he walked in here,’ he boasted.

  Lenore was intrigued. Deryk arrived injured?

  ‘And for that, you were taken away from me for what felt like ages,’ Cat whined and pouted.

  ‘But now he is only allowed out during meal times,’ Axel stated with pride.

  ‘He works a lot out in the gardens,’ Cat told Lenore.

  ‘So… Deryk was injured when he came here?’ Lenore inquired, desperately wanting to find out more.

  ‘He was a right state!’ Cat trilled. ‘A week hospitalised apparently, then he was sent here. But he didn’t look that well healed at all. His entire face was purple with bruises and cuts.’

  Lenore would not have believed it, if not for the genuine smugness on Axels face. She turned her head to see Deryk take a bite of toast. He's completely healed now. Save for a number of faint scars on his face.

  ‘What happened to him?’ Lenore probed.

  Cat shrugged, ‘Nobody knows’, then she rose to her feet and stretched. ‘Come, let’s get our medication early, so we can be free to show you the cool stuff that they missed out on your tour.’

  Lenore looked at the decorative clock atop the fireplace. Almost 10am. Then she proceeded to follow Cat and Axel out of the dining hall, and down a winding stone staircase.

  Cat skipped ahead, her small socked feet padding down the hard stone steps. Lenore trailed her fingers over the cold carved patterns on the innermost pillar of the staircase. So many tiny details in this beautiful place. Maybe Cat is right, this place is nice. And unlike the stereotypical ideas and images of the institutions, this place is a safe haven. And no instances of abuse or cruelty has ever occurred here, except the extremely rare cases perpetrated by patients themselves. I’ve read everything there is to know about this place. So why didn’t I know about the fight involving Deryk and Axel? Deryk Lloyd… I have to find out why that name is so familiar.

  The trio emerged out into a wide hallway with flagstone flooring, and she followed Cat and Axel out into the cavernous main foyer, and into the medical unit.

  They came to a desk, under lit by neon green lights. The young woman manning the station looked up from her arrangement of monitors and smiled widely as she greeted Cat with a subtle French accent.

  ‘Morning, I’ve got both your medications right here ready,’ and she swivelled on her chair to a shelf behind her. She grabbed two small cups with a pill each in them, and filled them half way with water from a cooler on the shelf below. She smiled politely as she handed them to Cat and Axel.

  They immediately downed the contents and leaned over to the woman, whom checked their mouths with a tiny, harsh white light. The woman smiled and nodded, and then turned her attention to Lenore.

  ‘Welcome, Miss Blake is it?’ Lenore nodded as her alias was mentioned and she stepped forward to receive her cup. Inside was a single small pink pill in a sea of water. The placebo from ECIT. I have to look the part of a patient after all.

  ***

  The evening chill dissolved its way through her clothing and reached her skin with an icy touch, as Lenore proceeded on her ‘recommended’ daily walk of the chateau grounds. She chose to take it during the late evening. Her favourite time.

  The horizon was luminous with a deep orange, bleeding up into a dark blue abyss, the same shade as the very garments she stood in. Stars were beginning to pierce through the deep indigo curtain, and she thought of the ancient celestial beings watching her planet at that moment.

  Her heartbeat, her biological mechanics and innermost workings, her very life, is a product of an experiment conducted by those beings thousands upon thousands of years ago. A forgotten histor
y. One which only select societies knew, like ECIT.

  Which one of you is here now, among us? She pondered to the darkening sky, sucking in a lungful of frigid air, and watched her exhalation writhe and dance as frosty clouds.

  The day had been a restless one of being shown the ins and outs of the institution by an exhaustingly excitable Cat. As well as a meeting with the resident psychologist to keep her ‘management’ plan on track.

  Lenore had mentally noted the relative easiness of infiltrating the psychologists study. There was a blind spot where the surveillance cameras did not cover, and the study door is secured only be a fingerprint scanner. It would be somewhat simple to enter. IGS are obviously too comfortable in their world of power and ego. Why would they ever expect anybody to want the files of forgotten and unwanted nobodies? I’m dying to find Axels details on the system. It would be great to get information on splices.

  She stopped in front of an old stone well, topped with beautifully crafted ironwork. A frost covered engraving of an archer was carved into the body of the well, surrounded by intricate floral motifs.

  Lenore once again noticed her cloudy breath before her. Clouds. And thought of her beloved skycraft, the Cirrus. She has been grounded for two days now, and longed to soar the skies again. If I miss flying after only two days, how am I going to last weeks, maybe months? She sighed, making more white breath flow and swell around her.

  The institution outerwear coat she wore was in the style of a skycraft jacket. A diagonal zip, and buckled at the chest. Wearing the garment did not help her longing of flying, but it did ward off the biting December cold.

  The crunching of the snow underfoot was a satisfying sound which began to fill her mind with a relaxing rhythm, when suddenly a movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention to a series of large iron-caged windows.

  She had ended up wandering to the old stables of the chateau. Remembering the Drakestoke maps she had poured over before arriving, she remembered that they had been converted years ago, into more living quarters for the institution. The isolation sector, to be exact. Not that they even need more rooms anymore. So few families are choosing this option. Preferring to be rid of the embarrassment and wasted time of an ‘unsatisfactory child’ by choosing euthanasia.

 

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