Dark Rain: Book 1 of The Aetherium Saga

by Jilly MacKenzie

  ‘I will, thank you,’ Lenore concurred as Cavere left the small lounge room at a brisk walk.

  Lenore’s eyes narrowed, scrutinising and wondering, and curiosity quickly got the better of her. Compelled to stand, she followed after Cavere, at a safe distance.

  ‘Hey, where are you going?’ probed a musical voice from behind her, and Lenore turned sharply to see Cat’s questioning face, and Axel behind her.

  ‘We were all meeting here to have afternoon tea before the movie, remember?’ Cat puzzled, pointing back into the cosy, lounge room that Lenore had exited from.

  ‘Everything alright?’ Axel asked, concerned, noticing Lenore’s faraway look.

  ‘Uh, y-yes, I totally forgot, sorry’ she apologised, ‘I just need to get something from my room, I'll be right back,' Lenore assured with a grin.

  ‘Well, okay then, we’ll head in now,' Cat accepted, 'Don’t take ages,’ she added with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. Then she skipped inside, dragging Axel to slump into a large red armchair.

  Lenore glanced up the hallway to look for the overseer, but didn’t see her, so she continued quickly down a winding staircase. Passing through more exquisitely arched stone hallways, finally brought her to a corner. Beyond was the entrance to isolated section.

  Most of the staff and orderlies she had passed on her way to this point, were focused on other residents, or busy going about their usual duties. They did not notice her, and if they did, they did not stop to question her motive.

  She was classed as probably, the lowest-risk resident in the chateau. Here of her own accord, purely for a relaxation retreat. I can go almost anywhere in the institution… Except in there, she thought as she peered around the corner into the secure checkpoint entrance to the isolation section.

  There was nobody in sight, most residents were frightened of the isolation section, because of its rare use as a punishment for bad behaviour. But mostly because of the silent, masked woman who lurked within.

  Anubis was a Drakestoke legend in the flesh. Everybody knew of her, many had seen her, most were scared of her. Cat adored her, Lenore smiled.

  Her mind travelled back to her first evening, in the courtyard, where she had locked eyes with Anubis herself. It’s understandable that people are scared of her. But what did she do to warrant such a lonely life in captivity? Right now, she is my current suspect of being the Chosen for this rogue Anuna. I wish I know more about her, but I can't find out anything from only knowing her nickname...

  Low French voices could be heard from the security booth at the isolation entrance, and Lenore moved closer, hugging the corner, out of sight. She listened hard, translating the conversation.

  ‘I know. After tomorrow, I refuse to continue her therapy any longer. It's barbaric and outdated. And it clearly does not work on her anyway. We will just lie to them and say that she is still undergoing treatment,' Madame Cavere’s voice…

  ‘Are you sure that will work? They may find out,' a small, concerned female voice chimed in, younger than that of Cavere’s.

  ‘I know Leslie, I know,’ Madame Cavere breathed, her fatigue coming through in her voice, ‘They may own this facility, but they are negligent. They have not conducted a visit or inspection in eleven years, even when those two were brought here.

  ‘I’ve tried my hardest to make this place a good and honest institution. And compared to the other institutions, it is. Believe me. And I can no longer carry on this monthly mistreatment of poor Victoria, just because they tell me to. I'm no longer their puppet,’ Cavere declared.

  Victoria? It has to be a coincidence that that name has been mentioned now, here, of all places.

  ‘Finally,’ Leslie concurred with audible joy and relief, ‘We don’t follow their guidelines about Deryk, so why should we with her?’

  No way. Victoria and Deryk. Both mentioned within seconds of one another. It can't be. Are they talking about Lady Victoria Morwenstow? Deryk's wife. And are they mentioning her name here, outside of the isolation section, in reference to Anubis? This has got to be all wrong.

  ‘Precisely,’ Madame Cavere agreed, ‘Mr Lloyd is a confirmed sadistic psychopath. I will never have him around the other residents unattended, and he most certainly will never do as he pleases, when he pleases. He will live his life sentence here, as I see fit.’

  So Deryk's supervision by two orderlies, and his daily work outside in the chateau grounds, is his punishment. Madame Cavere was punishing Deryk all along, but in her own subtle way. Lenore thought back to her first lone meeting with Deryk and she frowned. He must manage to slip away from his orderlies while working outside.

  ‘It is just such a shame…’ whined Leslie. Lenore was so lost in her own thoughts that she had missed a portion of the conversation.

  ‘And what she has already been through,' the young orderlies continued, 'It’s coming up to almost 3 years now since...’

  ‘She suffered a terrible shock and emotional trauma, and a day later was put in here. It is no surprise she shut down. She has been mute since that that day. Continuing her unbroken silence, and refuses to let us remove her mask. I've tried to make her as comfortable as possible, and from tomorrow onwards, no more electrotherapy,’ explained Cavere.

  She then emerged from the security booth and stood outside of the energy barrier expectantly. A soft series of beeps sounded, and Lenore watched the pulsating field of the energy barriers of the isolation section recede, and Cavere walked through with her papers, calling softly, in English now, out into the echoing forbidden section of the institution.

  ‘Miss Morwenstow! I have some unfortunate news to tell you…’

  Yes. No doubt about it now. My hunch was right. Anubis is Lady Victoria Vesper Morwenstow. Deryk Lloyd’s wife. It was her son that Deryk murdered, and it was an attack from her that hospitalised him. She did not die with her son in a skycraft accident, as the IGS told the world, but is actually incarcerated in the same institute as her murderer husband.

  Lenore left the area and made her way through the labyrinthian chateau, back to the little lounge where her two friends awaited her. They were already snacking on a delightful array of cakes and sandwiches, as Lenore quickly made herself comfortable. Her mind raced and she craved answers to even more questions. It's all so surreal, and all the pieces are falling together. Almost too perfectly. This sort of thing is what Deacon likes to call, a cosmic coincidence.

  ***

  How much loss can one person suffer before they break? Madame Cavere thought glumly to herself as she looked upon the masked woman before her. Although, I think she may already be broken. I don't want to do this. This poor, poor, girl…

  ‘Your father has died,’ Madame Cavere stated sullenly, watching Anubis for any sign of emotion. Yet, as always, only icy blue calculating eyes stared back at her, and red, unmoving lips.

  ‘I am sorry,’ Cavere sighed, and she left Anubis stood in the corner of her cell, which was generously furbished with the same level of opulence found everywhere else in the chateau.

  The only exception to the scene of luxury, was the young masked woman stood within, and the dark markings on the walls and ceiling surrounding her. Etched perfectly on the wallpaper, carrying on over mirrors and hung paintings.

  The markings were peculiar symbols, pronged, and angular, and some curved and sweeping. They looked to be made with charcoal, but black powder came from them when rubbed, and they smelled strange, like summer rain on hot tarmac.

  Anubis heard the faint sound of the energy barriers engaging, and sat down slowly on her bed.

  Father... Her grieving mind drifted back to her family home on Lundy Island, and the cliffs of North Cornwall. How happy she was as a child, the person she was before she left and married a monster. Father never wanted me to go, I should have listened. God, I wished I had listened. None of this would have ever happened.

  She slumped back against the wall, as teardrops escaped from under her mask and rolled down her neck, as the symbol behind h
er began to fade. They faded, then appeared again. Every evening and morning.

  She did not care for the symbols anymore. They had become a part of her life here. She did not care for anything. She did not know why some deep part of her willed her to continue eating, continue breathing. She looked forward to nothing but her own death. I look forward to him too… Anubis corrected herself through the depressed fog of her mind. Yes. I always look forward to seeing my shadow man.

  Anubis has had the same sort of dream every night, since almost three years ago, when her entire life changed and her world crumbled around her. The only comfort to her, through these lonely years, was a man she could see, but not see.

  He was always obscured and distorted, and her eyes were only ever able to focus on random details of him. Glowing blue eyes, like electric. Golden armour. Ebony horns protruding from black and gold hair. Radiant white skin rippling with blue energy. A black wing, with feathers like ravens. And he would take her from place to place. Ancient cities amidst scorching deserts. Rich, fertile lands with flowing rivers. A garden which seemed to go on forever. She would hear chanting and singing, and stirring, ancient music. The smell of petrichor, and fruits. Bright white lights, and him. He was always there. Those bright azure eyes would sometimes dim enough for her to see them clearly. He never speaks, but his eyes tell of a melancholy I know too well.

  ***

  A shiver momentarily rattled Lenore's body as she gazed out of her bedroom window at the wintry scene below her. The untouched snow was painted a soft peach hue by the setting sun. It blanketed every surface of the chateau, and the surrounding land and forest as far as she could see.

  She took a sip of her hot, sweet tea and was grateful she was inside. Winters have been getting colder for decades since the Human Congregation Protocol and the Neo-Earth movement. A minor annoyance for those like her who hate being cold.

  A small portion of the isolation wing was in view. It looked uniform and square compared to the rest of the grand architecture, due to its horse stable origins. It was impossible for her thoughts to not immediately land on its lone occupant, Anubis. Lenore's mind raced with all that she had learned of the mysterious masked woman. I need to access the resident records again tonight. I need to know about her.

  Chapter 6

  The Unforgivable

  The thick fabric of the white restraint belts pressed tightly over Anubis' clavicle, arms, and legs. Her long, wild hair poured out over the sides of the reclined treatment chair, and her blue eyes were locked onto her favourite part of the ceiling. Ready to recede into herself for the duration of the pointless procedure.

  She had undergone this 'treatment' many times before, and it had no effect. Why don't they just stop?

  Madame Cavere inspected all of the electrical connections and machinery, then proceeded to position the large horseshoe-shaped emitter behind Anubis' headrest. Both branches of the emitter reached round to the sides of Anubis’ head. A series of resigned nods and affirmations were exchanged between the team, and a switch was flipped.

  Sparks of static flickered from the emitter into Anubis' head, causing small pieces of her hair to rise slightly. Anubis was stoic, and felt no pain. Instead she felt as she always did during the treatment. Mildly euphoric, like a kind of release. As if all the energy coursing through her body was somehow being siphoned out of her, as quickly as it were entering.

  She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to drift off within itself, the noise of the electrotherapy machine was reduced to an undulating hum.

  The death of her father yesterday still weighed heavy on her mind. I should have been there. I was all he had left in the world. She desperately wished to be far away from here, and suddenly her grief drew her mind back to a day she vowed never to linger upon again. The pressure of the restraints reminded her, and carried her faster towards it, and then it was too late, the memories played out like a film scene in front of her, of which she had no control over.

  - Kensington, West London. 30th January 2090 –

  The warm glow of lamplight warded away the cold grey light of the January morning. Freshly baked cinnamon buns wafted their aroma around the room, as the sound of a child’s laugh and small feet running on carpet graced her ears.

  ‘Mummy...,’ a little boys voice whined, half-annoyed, half-laughing, ‘That's not my part!’

  His small hands tugged at the assortment of scarves and cloth she had wrapped around herself.

  ‘Oh isn't it?’ Victoria asked, playfully ignoring his attempts to free her from the mess. She wrapped a couple of the scarves rather tightly around her legs, and the pressure was becoming quite uncomfortable, but she stayed in character.

  ‘It's a play about Ancient Egypt isn't it? So aren't you a scary mummy?’ she asked with an exaggerated growl and scooped the little boy into her arms, pretending to eat him amidst his screeching and giggles.

  ‘No mummy! I'm the god Anubis!’ he explained between wriggles and laughter in her arms, until she let him go free.

  ‘Oh. Well, what does Anubis look like darling?’ she asked, feigning intrigue, as she finally began removing the tightly wound scarves from her body.

  ‘He's the god of funerals and the dead,’ he said with childish passion, ‘He's got a black jackal head, with pointy ears!’ he explained while sticking his pointer fingers up on his head like ears.

  ‘Oh… yes,’ she laughed, ‘I think I know that one.’

  He beamed a huge grin at her and ran to get his assortment of crafting materials, while she folded away all of the fabric she had worn a moment ago, and waited patiently for him to return.

  She smiled to herself as she recalled his excitement yesterday when he announced he had a part in his school play. But he had only now just revealed the character he would play.

  Small hurried feet were approaching, along with the rattle of a box full of various items.

  ‘I want you to help me make a mask,’ he demanded as he entered the room and plonked the box down in front of her. She noticed that he had added to his craft box as his small hands rummaged around and pulled out a moulding kit, and black polyurethane casting resin.

  ‘Wow, you're very prepared darling,’ she laughed, ‘Of course I'll help you,’ she agreed, beginning to wrap a towel gently around his shoulders, and sweeping his fluffy brown hair back from his face.

  ‘No mummy, I want to mould it to your face!’ he protested.

  Victoria was confused, ‘Why? It's your mask Leo, you'll be the one wearing it.’

  ‘But I want it to be your face. It will still fit me. I just want it to be your face, on me. Then you will be there with me, and I won’t be scared in front of all those people,’ he explained.

  She smiled, understanding his young mind’s reasoning, and they proceeded to prepare and set the mould together with plenty of laughing and messy hands.

  By late afternoon, they had a perfectly formed, plain black mask in the shape of the jackal-headed god, Anubis.

  ‘Now all it needs is the gold paint detailing,’ Victoria stated, drawing Leo in for a quick kiss on his head.

  ‘You do that, mummy. You're better at painting than me.’

  ‘Alright darling,’ she smiled softly, ‘I'll have it ready when you come back from your rehearsal.’

  After dropping Leo off at his evening rehearsal, Victoria returned home and began putting the finishing details onto the mask. It took longer than she had expected, and when she was done, she held it up proudly. It really does look good. A work of art made by both of us. Just hope it fits his little head okay. Just need to wait for him to try it on, and attach a strong string to keep it on that little head of his.

  She was suddenly startled by the sound of a skycraft lowering and landing outside, and a sense of anxiety and foreboding quickening her heart. He is not meant to return until next week.

  The door opened and she reluctantly went to greet her husband with a kiss, ‘You're back early,’ she smiled warily.

  ‘Yup, is
that a problem?’ Deryk narrowed his eyes accusingly, holding her chin to him.

  ‘Never,’ she strained a smile and embraced him again, ‘Welcome back, darling.’

  He huffed, ‘Where’s he at?’

  ‘Rehearsal. He is being dropped back soon,’ she answered, ‘I'll go to collect takeout, if you'd like?’

  ‘Good, I’m starving,’ he moaned as he disappeared in his spacious study and closed the door. She heard his weapons case unlock, and then lock again, after he had placed his work pistols securely inside. She wished that she could access them.

  ‘On,’ he muttered from the room, activating his interactive wall monitor.

  Victoria hesitated a moment, then left the house, and took off in her skycraft, a sleek black Jetison. It was her most prized possession. Her means of escaping him. Her ticket to freedom, if only for short durations. But most of all, it was her and Leo's ride to many adventures. His favourites being the trips to her family home on Lundy Island. He loved watching for that lonely isle coming into view on the horizon. Visiting her father. Leo loved his grandfather, as well as all the wildlife he loved to watch on the island.

  Victoria did not always dislike her husband. It had occurred after Leo’s birth. Deryk could not be trusted with anything weaker than himself, due to an odd power complex. It manifested randomly, and in vicious and sadistic ways. He had always been rough, and she used to like it. But years as an enforcer, with power and authority over people, had seemed to intensify his violent nature.

  She was sure people with his kind of problem were usually euthanised or sent away, and the only reason he had not, was because of who he was. The son of the IGS Director. The exact reason she had not dared to leave him. With his power, he could take Leo. Even have me sent away. Or worse.

  It had been quite some time when Anubis' food order was finally ready to take away. Night had already crept in as she landed outside the house and entered with the warm cartons of noodles.