Daylight Dreams
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A few days have passed since the Night Guard discovered Clara's body and informed everyone about the unusual carvings.
Clarence, Kora and Daisy made the effort of visiting Ida and Henry in their home. Kora packed a woven basket full of breads, jams, spreads, chocolates and various types of meat for them.
Everyone seems to have kept to themselves for the few days afterwards.
Clarence has been constantly training in the attic to keep his mind off of everything going on.
Lewis and Percy have been elbows deep in books researching in his Apothecary store about the carvings on Clara-which haven’t led to any new discoveries.
Matthew and Jordan seem to be inseparable, most of their time spent with Matthew showing Jordan around the different parts of London. They took an omnibus across the bridge and Matthew showed Jordan his favourite places to eat, and they walked around the most visited landmarks and parks. Valarie and Alice would occasionally join them as well.
Finally, days later, Daisy convinced Kora to train with her at the Ascendancy-well, they were meant to be training, but Daisy has spent almost half an hour trying to pick a weapon of choice, which is driving Kora mad .
“Just pick one Daisy. Any weapon will suffice.” She reminds her friend.
Kora sits on one of the wooden crates, twirling her blade with her wrist as she waits.
Daisy picks up a knife, feeling the edge with her finger and grins, “All right, all right, I have one. Are you happy now?”
“You have no idea,” Kora blanches, standing from the crate and meeting her in the centre of the room, “are you ready?”
Her hazel eyes glint at Daisy’s brown ones, which are slightly widened with fear. She has never beaten Kora, and today won’t be any different.
“Just get on with it.” Daisy’s mouth curls as she flicks a brow in amusement.
Kora grins, raising her golden blade, legs positioning into her fighting stance. Daisy copies her, extending out the knife in front of her protectively. Kora then waits for Daisy to make the first move.
They both stand in silence, waiting for one of them to flinch when Daisy strikes out her hand.
Kora manages to avoid her by spinning and twirls her blade around, the tip constantly pointed at Daisy’s chest.
Daisy growls and jumps towards her, jabbing towards her stomach. Kora dodges, moving backwards onto one of the wooden crates. The creaking sound of the timber beneath her causes Kora to pause for a moment, expecting it to fall apart, but it stays standing.
She jumps off again, this time advancing towards Daisy, who holds out her knife defensively. Kora brings her blade up, colliding with Daisy’s knife. The two of them throw their forces into their weapons. Daisy is taller and broader, pushing Kora backwards, her boots dragging against the floor.
Kora reaches out, swiping at Daisy’s midsection when Daisy jumps backwards, almost tripping over the crates on the ground. Swearing at herself under her breath, Daisy swings her knife haphazardly in the air, hoping to cut, scratch or wound Kora in some way. Kora just stands at arm’s length, smiling as her friend attempts to hit her.
Positioning herself for another attack, Kora goes to hit her when she sees Daisy peering out of the glass wall. Something has grabbed her attention. Garnet eyes flaring and fear settling in on her face, Kora can tell from the expression Daisy’s wearing that this is not a rouse-something has legitimately frightened her.
Looking out herself, there’s nothing on the other side. Nobody is watching them train. What is she staring at ?
Daisy’s arm drops to her side, her dagger pointing towards the floor, away from Kora. Her throat gulps as her gaze remains fixed on the glass.
She doesn’t even flinch as Kora approaches her. “Daisy?”
She doesn’t move at the sound of her name. It’s as though she’s utterly entranced at nothing.
“Daisy.” Kora says louder this time in a sterner tone.
Daisy blinks, as if waking up from a dream and shaking her head lightly. She looks sideways at Kora, her brows pinching with concern.
“Sorry.” Her voice is barely audible.
Kora stares into her eyes, which look glassier than before. Her lips are tight, and forehead is creased. “Are you all right?”
Daisy nods, swallowing and rubbing the back of her neck with her fingers nervously, trying to hide the vibrations running along her skin. His face continues to haunt her mind even after the vision disappears. “I’m fine. It’s fine. It’s nothing.”
She walks back into the middle of the room, hoping that Kora will drop the conversation, but that hope dies instantly. “What was that then? What, did you see something that I couldn’t?”
Daisy’s eyes close as she fights off the image of the man behind her eyelids. She could have sworn he was there, watching her with dark hawk eyes before vanishing into thin air. “Nothing. It-it wasn’t anything. I’m just tired, that’s all. ”
Kora grabs her arm, drawing all of Daisy’s attention. Worry etched into Kora’s features. She doesn’t even know why she can’t tell her closest friend about her nightmare. About the vision now haunting her while being awake. Maybe because she can’t even convince herself that it doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean anything. It must just be her mind playing tricks on her. Maybe she just needs more sleep.
“You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?”
Daisy takes a second to register Kora’s words before nodding hurriedly, “Of course I would. Why would I keep anything from you, Kora?”
“Good. Because if there’s something wrong, you can always tell me, Daisy. I’ll always listen and support you.”
Daisy wishes that were true. But how does she even begin to tell Kora what she saw? How will she be able to explain it when her own mind can’t even determine what’s real or not?
* ? * ? *
Charles is used to being in his father’s study. It has a very dark, studious feeling to it. It seems to be his favourite room of their manor. Robert spends more time in here alone than in any other room with him or his mother.
He sometimes feels sorry for this mother, Lucy. She does everything for his father, but outside of Ascendancy events, he barely gives her any attention.
Lucy’s never said anything to his father, but Charles can see the sadness behind those large eyes of hers. She hides her unhappiness underneath her lashes, feigning smiles and laughter in front of others for the sake of her husband’s position.
The fireplace is lit beside his chair, blowing warmth into the room. A large oil painting of the Bladesmith manor hangs proudly above in a thick golden frame with cursive lines and swirls. A dark stained desk sits off to the side with three plush chairs surrounding it. Robert has neatly placed coins, notes, and feather pens in particular spots atop the desk. The green reading lamp burns softly on the end, being the only other light source in the room.
Charles’ eyes stare into the dancing flames burning in the hearth. Embers burst from the heat like tiny exploding stars.
His father told Charles to wait for him, but he’s been gone almost half an hour at this point. Charles knows his father is of high importance within the Ascendancy, and that takes up the majority of his time and energy.
Charles always gets a twinge of excitement when Robert wants to spend time with him. Of course, he would never admit it to anyone, but it hurts him when his father is distracted by work-related issues after promising to reserve time for his son.
The door opens abruptly, and Robert appears, sealing it behind him. “Your mother is asleep now. I made sure she was before I came down.” Robert informs him.
He sits down in his large, overstuffed leather chair, crossing his hands on the desk between them. Charles gives a small nod. “What is this about then, father?” Questioning him.
He observes Robert, who looks almost identical to him, just with more wrinkles and stubble. His blackened hair greying ever so slightly on the sides, and his fingers are beginning to look more worn than his own. “You know, Charles, that I will be stepping down soon from my role as head of the Ascendancy,” Robert pauses momentarily, “and I want you to become the next leader, but I fear that the other Elders might not agree with my decision.”
Charles scrunches his face up in confusion. “Why won’t they agree with you? What have they said to you?” his words rushing out anxiously.
Robert lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his light blackened beard covering the bottom half of his face. Irises a dim olive shade like Charles’. “They have reasons to believe that you are not as mature as a leader should be.” He explains to his son.
“I am mature. I attend every meeting. I even come with you on assignments when you’re investigating anything reported.” Charles defends himself, utterly offended by what his father is sharing with him.
Robert grumbles a little. “You just need to show them that you are most suited for this role,” he pauses again, picking up a feather and positioning an empty piece of parchment under his hand, “there is a ball at the Ascendancy later this week. You will need to show them that you are worthy of being selected, make them change their minds. I don’t want to see anyone else being chosen for this role. You and I both know we can’t let that happen. To protect both the Ascendancy and our family’s business.”
“I am most suited for this role, father.” Charles raises his voice.
Robert shoots him a look, reminding him to keep his voice low to avoid his mother waking up and listening in on them.
“Nobody else was raised to be the leader like I have,” Charles continues in a softer tone, “not Clarence, nor Levi or Isaac, and especially not Jordan Carter.” He spits out the last name like it’s poison on his tongue.
“I know you are frustrated, but you need to remain calm about this, like you have no idea we’ve spoken. I think it will be wise for you to show them that you are competent and adult enough for this role. And with maturity comes responsibility,” he pauses to study his son intently, “you need to hurry and find a girl to court, Charles.”
His head shoots up to stare right into Robert’s superior face. “I do not wish to court a girl just to solidify my position. I want to become the leader based on my family title and my abilities, not because I am old enough to wed someone.”
“While that’s true, by wedding a girl, you’ll also be showing them the responsibility they’re seeking. Something that a leader must possess in order to be taken seriously.” Robert scratches his chin as he considers his son’s aggravated expression. “It is not a big deal, Charles. I wedded your mother to become the leader, and I suggest you do the same. Choose a well-respected girl who the Ascendancy trusts. Think of it as more of a business agreement.”
Charles stares at his father. Can he really do that? Choose a girl to be his wife just to solidify this position? Will he feel guilty for dragging her into a loveless marriage just to benefit himself?
Charles raises his chin, nodding slightly, and his father’s face loosens. “All right. I will choose a girl to wed.”
* ? * ? *
“Son, I know what you’re saying, but the incisions are not something I have seen before in all my years as a physician.” Percy tells Lewis as they study the old, torn book together.
“So, you believe Infernals could have made those carvings?” Lewis questions his father as they stand in the apothecary store Percy owns in Soho.
It’s a store which both Mortals and Marked creatures come to for aid. Percy sells various types of herbs and spices, dressings and remedies that all creatures find necessary. Being a physician, he’s always healing both humans and the supernatural, seeing them all as patients and customers.
It’s already dark outside, and the store has been closed for hours already. The lightweight wooden closed sign hanging over the hook on the glass door.
Lewis stands with his father while Valarie looks through the assortment of bandages and wraps in a large wooden box next to the counter.
Percy drops his hand from Lewis’ shoulder. “Yes, the carvings are too precise. It is almost as if it is trying to send us a message,” he describes. “No wolf’s claw can cut that thin. No talon can, either. It looks to be some sort of weapon. I presume it to be the workings of an Infernal, or perhaps even a Seraphim.”
“An Infernal or Seraphim?” Valarie echoes his words.
Both Lewis and Percy’s heads jolt up, both of them almost forgetting her presence.
Valarie looks at both of them for more answers, her innocent face looking fretful.
“Well, that is what I am assuming for now. Until the White Women complete their examinations, we will not know for sure.” He informs her.
Valarie slides off the bench and walks up to the two of them, her arms neatly folded across her stomach as if she’s about to be sick. “Have the White Women seen anything like this before?”
Percy nods. “That is what they said, whether it is true or not, they have far greater knowledge of death than I do. Most of the White Women are centuries old.”
Valarie’s mouth opens a little in astonishment.
“Perhaps it happened decades ago?” Lewis suggests.
“Perhaps.” Percy repeats, not sounding very convincing. “I have a book around here somewhere which is about ancient carvings and marks used in rituals and sacrifices. Perhaps it has something similar to what we are looking for…” Percy trails off, his golden eyes wandering around the shelves of his store in search of the tome he’s remembering.
He has a terrible habit of being messy, and it certainly shows in his store. Jars of aromatic plants, concoctions and medicine fill the lower shelves. Some jars are stacked on top of each other, while others are crammed into small spaces, making it difficult to sort through them all.
The higher shelves hold things of more value, like Percy’s exotic plant collection, his various types of medical bags depending on what he is being called out for, and his beloved medical journals. He has always had a fascination in medicine and healing, even when he was a young boy and healed his sick dog from an influenza using honeysuckle, green chiretta extract and calendula flowers.
He wanders over to the mountain of books stacked in the corner of the store. Each of them containing some sort of medicinal title, which Lewis finds just as interesting. Percy sorts through them, tossing each one aside after assessing the opening page.
Lewis and Valarie stand together, watching as Percy searches like a madman.
“It’s not here. It must be out the back. I shall go look for it. Wait here, you two,” Percy tells them without turning his attention away from his beloved books.
He wanders out to the back of the store behind the curtain, which he pulls to the side, and disappears behind the brick wall.
Lewis can hear the shuffling of objects and an occasional huff coming from his father. “Wait here like we have plans to be elsewhere?” Lewis murmurs quietly.
“I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with my family coming to London.” Valarie says next to him in a concerned tone.
Lewis furrows his black brows at her, his glasses dimming the brightness of his golden eyes. “Why would you even suggest that?” he asks her, slightly confused.
She gives him a short shrug. “It just seems like a coincidence, that is all.”
“Yes. It is nothing more than a coincidence.” Lewis agrees.
Valarie nods, her eyes drifting down to his thin, lightly coloured lips. Her rosy, pouty one’s part sightly.
“I am afraid Lewis.” She admits to him.
He can hear the faint trace of apprehension in her words.
Dropping his head and lifting his hands to her full cheeks, he cups them tenderly to stare into the depths of her wide pupils. “I know, and you should be. But I will protect you no matter what.”
His face lowers to hers, their lips millimetres apart. Valarie feels her eyes closing naturally in anticipation. She’s longed to have him kiss her for quite some time now. Their proximity makes her lips tingle, her blood flowing quickly through her veins.
Lewis lets out a small breath before kissing her. It’s soft and gentle, one that seems perfect in Valarie’s mind. The kind of first kiss she has always dreamed of having with him.
Unfortunately, almost as quickly as the kiss begins, it ends.
Lewis pulls himself away slowly. He drops his hands from her face when Percy appears back through the curtain, carrying several books in his hands.
Valarie didn’t even hear Percy return. For the few seconds they were connected, she had forgotten about the whole world.
“I found some I can look through. Lewis, would you help me out? It will take less time if we both read through these.”
“Sure.” Lewis offers, walking over to the counter where Percy places the short stack.
“I can help too if you would like, Mr Chiswick.” Valarie offers.
Percy looks up and smiles at her. “That’s very generous of you, Miss Carter. The sooner we find the creature, the sooner we can put all of this behind us.”