CHAPTER 1 “Bears and Crows”
“Bears and Crows”
The rain splatters across the window, the countless tiny droplets beading together, forming narrow streams of water that cascade down the glass and disappear out of sight.
I sit, observing one such translucent speck of rain, my blue eyes open wide, unblinking, as if in a trance.
A bolt of lightning flashes across the gloomy sky, illuminating the barely lit train cubicle and the densely forested landscape of Eastern Europe that’s flying by. I jolt as thunder booms all around me, its threatening sound causing my heart to race.
“The storm frightens you.”
I turn towards the speaker, thankful for the distraction. “Oh, no. No, it just took me by surprise, that’s all.” A feeble smile graces my lips as I hopelessly attempt to placate the elderly woman frowning at me.
“Don’t worry dear, it’ll be over soon. Where are you headed to?” she asks in curiosity. “I haven’t seen you before, you must not be from around here.”
My gaze drifts back to the glass and the storm that’s making its appearance across the darkening sky, my insides turning from apprehension as more oddly shaped clouds roll in.
“I’m from Barbora.” The words stick on my tongue, my eyes unable to turn away from the sinister display of nature unfolding before me.
“Ah, the Institute! What is a historian doing this far away from home?”
Another bright flash cuts the air, causing me to jump in my seat. My skin prickles, as if charged with a hundred volts.
“I’m doing research for my dissertation,” I mutter low while gripping the burgundy travel bag in my lap, fingers clutching the leather material.
I hate storms.
It was storming the night I lost my mother.
A sudden thought hits me. My attention snaps to the gray haired woman sitting across from me, the very same one whose keen gaze is already on me, as if absorbing my every move. “You’re from around here, aren’t you?” She nods. “Maybe you can help me.”
Her body shifts, as if uneasy with my request, but she adds, nonetheless, “I will try my best, my dear. What is it that you need help with?”
I swallow hard, as an ominous face appears to take shape amongst the ebony clouds, and an eerie chill runs through me.
“I—I’m writing a thesis on old abandoned buildings, mostly family heirlooms and cultural landmarks with rich, age long history.
I was told that this area of the country was saturated with such architectural wonders, ones which not only have an enchanting outward appearance but a deeply rooted mythos to go along with it, as well. ”
Clasping my hands in front of me, I internally shake myself, then scoot closer to the petite woman. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla and something strange and very foreign yet oddly familiar, as if I’ve smelt it before, enters my lungs as I inhale. “Do you know of any such pieces of property?”
The cabin falls silent as we sit staring at each other, neither one of us moving. The high pitched squeaks of the train wheels mix in with the sonorous thunder resonating all around, making my skin crawl as the harrowing melody washes over me.
“There are many, but surely, you’re not interested in—”
“Please,” I cut her off, grabbing the woman’s tiny hands in my own as my fingers wrap firmly around them. “I’m so close to finishing it.” I’m struck by how soft they are, and I quickly glance down, noting the lack of wrinkles despite her obvious age.
How very odd.
My eyes dart back up, desperation leaking from my pores, and I suck in a lungful of air, holding my breath and praying that, for once in my life, I would have it easy.
The old lady scrunches up her nose, as if having smelt something foul, before pulling her hands free. “Well, there is one, I suppose, that is quite the mystery with us locals. No one really dares to speak about that abandoned mansion, let alone go near it.”
Adjusting her skirts, she begins, her raspy voice adding a foreboding touch to her tale.
“Legends say that once, long ago, a family inherited these lands from the creatures of the forest, making them a sort of keepers of the woods and all living beings that dwelled in it.
They built a resplendent mansion on the very grounds where it still stands, to this day, calling it their home and residence.
Many centuries passed where the woods thrived under the watchful eyes of its members, not once letting anything go amiss.
Then, one day, out of the blue, the leaves started to turn black, as if scorched by a fire.
The bark started to fall away, leaving the trees barren and prone to sickness.
The ground began to rot, as if a plague had infected it.
No one seemed to know the cause, try as they might to search for some answers.
“The head of the family took a group of men and went into the woods, scouring the entirety of it for any clues as to what was attacking the land, but to no avail. It seemed as if the ailment was of a natural origin, one that could not be stopped by the interference of man.” She clears her throat, unease coloring the woman’s wrinkled face.
I wait patiently, not wanting to sound overeager while my blood thrums with excitement, but when no words come out of her mouth, my curiosity wins over. “Well, go on, what happened next?”
A moment of pause, and then on a more serious note, she says, “My dear, it is best if we don’t talk about this any longer, that should be more than enough to help you. Now, you never told me your name.”
My back hits the plush seat, my coat billowing out around me, vexed that the tale was cut so short. “Elena, my name is Elena. Elena Fremont.” Maybe if I soften her up, just like I have to do with all the rich sponsors for the Institute, she will be willing to tell me the rest of it.
The old lady beams, her eyes bright with some hidden spark.
“What a lovely name! You are indeed a bright, shining light with those brilliant long gold tresses of yours.” She inspects me from where she sits with eyes that seem to know everything before extending forth her hand.
“I’m Olga. It is a pleasure to meet such a wonderful young lady. ”
I shake it, batting my eyelashes dramatically as I flash my brilliant white teeth at her.
Time to put my negotiation skills to use.
I clear my throat. “Olga, you seem like a very knowledgeable woman, one that many people go to for some sound advice. I would be forever indebted to you if you would be so kind and finish the tale about the abandoned mansion. I will even dedicate the entire paper to you, it would mean that much to me.”
Blushing at my words of flattery, the old lady nods in agreement after a few moments of consideration. “Well, alright, I suppose I could tell you the rest of it.”
Smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles from her moss-colored dress folds, she begins, her voice getting low the longer she speaks.