I remembered the day I first met Lemra, or Lem as I later nicknamed him. He was my imaginary friend, as Belle liked to tease.
But unlike most children, I hadn't built him out of pleasing physucal ideals, or fantastical imaginary creatures. He had just appeared, one day, as if by magic.
I was eight and crying in my room during Mother's funeral when I spotted a strange face staring at me. It was a boy with shaggy black hair, green eyes and at first I assumed he had broken into my room. It was only after I had threatened to have the servants throw him out that I realized the boy couldn't talk and I was also the only one who could see him.
I was young and my wounds were fresh from Mother's death. I still believed in stories and magic and I thought mother had sent him to protect me. He was supposed to save me from my perfect sisters, from the cunning women who flirted with my father, and even from the dreaded Netvor.
In some ways, he did.
We played together, made up our own secret language using only our hands and during those days I thought so little of the fears that had once plagued me. However, as I grew older and continued to talk of Lem, my family began to worry. After all, mother had seen visions before succumbing to the sickness too.
Over time, I learned not to mention Lem.
I had been getting very good at it, minus a few errors like the one in front alleyway this morning. Luckily, it didn't matter because soon after that we were at the docks and had other matters to deal with.
As the daughter of a wealthy merchant who lived in a port city, I had no shortage of opportunities to travel on the sea. The ocean was an old childhood love of mine, with the spray of briny water and the great snapping of canvas when the sails unfurled.
I wasn't excited to be leaving, but the idea of journeying by sea to Port Libor was at least comforting. I tried to soften our loss with that consolation.
However, it was quite assured that when the four of us arrived at the docks and found them crawling with soldiers who were refusing to let anyone board their ships, I was upset.
It was a miracle Father's men found us before any soldier did. They had found us an old carriage and pointed us in the direction of the roads heading out to the farms and then some distance further, the great forest that covered the north.
The few who dared to travel through it called it 'safe land'.
The citizens of Beaulieu knew it by a different name, one whose meaning had been lost to time.
Bora Les.
The Young Duke had neglected to blockade the roads that travelled there, not suspecting that it would be used in an attempt to escape.
That was for good reason. Beaulieu was a place of science and technology, most of the latest advancements were made here. However, the closer one came to Bora Les, the further all sense seemed to dissipate.
There were incredible and outlandish stories coming out of that place, about trees springing up out of the ground, abandoned villages, and animals that grew far larger than those of its kind elsewhere.
Father's men had been hopeful, but I still didn't like the idea of going through those woods.
As the two workhorses tied to our carriage pulled us through farms and country side, I stared unhappily at the never-ending wheat fields. Their long stalks rustled against one another as a breeze rolled idly over the land and the starlings cawed from their golden nests.
In our small family, there was my father, Richaud Eloi Capet, who was a little, wiry man with coppery-blond hair and a short-trimmed beard.
Régine was my eldest sister at eighteen and tall, hedging close to our father with the same coloured hair and deep blue eyes like the waters that surrounded the city.
Belle had been deemed the most beautiful girl in Beaulieu on more than one occasion with her heart-shaped face, pale eyes and white-gold curls.
I was eleven and the youngest. When it grew out, my hair was a dark russet brown like our mother's and wavy without control.
While my father drove the carriage through the countryside, my sisters were in the process of changing our names. Since our escape from Beaulieu, I had endured three days of endless travel with their voices constantly nattering in the background.
"Then it's settled. Our last name shall be Bellard," Régine said.
As if we would ever be anything but the Capets in my mind.
She was sitting next to me with Belle opposite while I made discreet hand gestures to Lem.
Belle's nose curled unhappily.
"You know seeing people who don't exist is a sign of insanity." Belle sneered when my hand gestures became too distracting for her to focus on her book. She had only been able to take three from the massive library at home.
I stuck my tongue out rudely, earning another sneer.
Unlike Régine, I didn't talk much with Belle. We were simply opposites, in nearly every conceivable way. Perhaps the most obvious wedge between us -and the only thing that we agreed on- was our mutual dislike for one another. It wasn't that we said it outright, but ever since Mama had passed away, we rarely talked and frequently engaged in tense arguments when we did.
"How about we do you now, Aceline? How do you like the name Jacqueline?" Régine asked sweetly.
Though he had been their to distract me for a time, Lem had disappeared from inside our carriage shortly after Régine started talking to me. I crossed my arms and shook my head furiously at the attempt to engage me.
"I don't like it at all. I like Aceline. That's the name mother gave me and I won't change it, see if you can make me-" I added venemously when my own words had worked me up into a tantrum.
Belle looked up from her book to give Régine a sceptical glance and then glared down at me with pointed blue eyes. She was always doing that.
"You're being absolutely ridiculous. Act like a lady for once," Belle said haughtily before fanning herself with her book.
The only other thing we could agree upon was that the air was absolutely stifling inside the cramped carriage.
"We all have to change our names, it's not as if Régine and I want the special treatment you insist on having."
It wasn't fair in the slightest. Régine had made up a name of her own design, Giena, and Belle had taken the very unoriginal title of Beauty.
"Yours and Régine's are practically the same–" I declared angrily and kicked at her leg, missing.
"No more- that's enough arguing for one day," Régine said unhappily before smacking the tops of both our hands. "Belle, Aceline is much younger than you, you can't hold her to the same standard."
I smirked at Belle, but Régine was soon upon me as well.
"And Aceline, I'm sorry but you must choose a new name. There will be no exceptions."
I frowned deeply, curling my legs up on the bench. While my sisters persisted with this new name business and I refused adamantly, the carriage had travelled quite far. Before I knew it, a shadow had descended over us and cooled the hot inside of the wooden box.
I glanced out the carriage window to find the golden fields and meadowlarks had been replaced with tall, dark trees and the eerie cries of far away birds.
Papa had insisted that we reach the trees and the forest pathway before nightfall today. We had enough food and water to last us until Port Libor which was a week's journey at the very least. The mountains, which would be far more difficult to cross, were more than a days journey away.
Régine, Belle and I were all still in our nightgowns from three days ago, and it was decided that we would need to purchase fabric for dresses when we reached the city.
Our plan seemed very simple at the time.
"Whoa!" Papa shouted from outside the carriage and we lurched into a stop. I poked my head out the window to look at Papa and saw the dreadfully silent forest towering all around us which sent a queasy feeling scurrying through my gut.
"What's happened, Papa?"
Belle and Régine were looking out the window too. That's when I saw it, or him, rather.
"M-Monsieur- help- please..." the choked, dry voice begged.
At the side of the road lay a man, dirtied and ragged looking, with a bit of dried blood smeared over his left cheek. I opened the door of the carriage and was about to step out, but Régine grabbed my arm and pulled me back in with a sharp tug.
"Owe- Régine," I whined.
"Shush-" my sister said with a fierce look before sticking her head out of the carriage once more. "Father, should we? It might be a trick..." Régine whispered.
It wasn't entirely unheard of for thieves to pretend to be lost or injured travellers to draw in victims. We weren't in a position to fall prey these types of ruffians and lose what meagre possessions we still had. However, on the other hand, it would have to be a group of very foolish robbers indeed to wait for how long, only the spirit of time knew, before travellers stopped to help. It wasn't as if people were eagerly waiting in line to journey through the monstrous forest of Bora Les.
"Aceline. Orabelle. Stay there. Régine, watch the carriage," Papa said under his breath. My eldest sister scrambled into the driver's seat as he approached the man still lying in the ditch.
When the gentle breeze running through the trees switched direction, a horrible odour cut the through the fragrant pines. Papa cupped his nose and waved to us. I leapt out of the carriage first, curious as to what had unnerved him until I saw it. On the ground beside the stranger lay a dead horse, somewhat hidden in the ditch.
"Bless you, Monsieur," the man whispered in his dry, withered voice.
Papa checked the warmth of the man's face and produced a small canvas bag of water. He dug out the cork with his teeth and pressed the opening to the man's mouth.
"Now, let's find you some food and clean clothing," Papa said softly. "Darlings, if you would retrieve some of mine from chest-"
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