Chapter 1 (2) – The Heart Seeks Companionship FirstMature


A bloody limb, a harsh reminder of the reality we live in. The train ripped through the car like sandpaper, leaving glass fragments everywhere. The Marquis, in a red robe, reached out to her.

She woke up in a cold sweat the next morning. With tears streaming down her face, she recited the only thing she could remember.

O Fortuna
velut luna
statu variabilis,
semper crescis
aut decrescis;
vita detestabilis
nunc obdurat
et tunc curat
ludo mentis aciem,
dissolvit ut glaciem.

The recitation of this part of Carl Orff’s 13th Century poem which the girl barely understood but was able to roughly translate thanks to Father Cordain teaching it to her constantly, calmed her slightly. That part, he said was about the moon, and outside in the moonlight was where she met the Marquis. Ever since that day, she became obsessed with the moon and its various phases.

So first” Father Cordain said one day, as he pointed what he called a story stick up at the sky, and where the moon usually was, “there was the new moon.”

But, there’s no light there?” She stared at him expectedly, her blue eyes sparkling in the starlight.

Cordain smiled, lifting his lantern up to illuminate her face. “Let me ask you somethin’ child” and the girl smiled back at him. There was something cool about how Cordain spoke because it wasn’t like the others in his congregation. He would accentuate certain words, and leave out sounds, depending on when, where and who he was talking to. In a sermon, he would speak as though he wasn’t a hick from Virginia, but outside of that, he shined his southern charm down on you when you least expected it. The girl thought he was doing this to her that day, now that some time had passed. “Can you see the air you breathe?”

The girl nodded “When it’s cold yeah,”. The wheels were turning and Cordain could see it bubbling up to the surface. “But not all the time.”

Cordain nodded, and grinned at her. There was something unsettling in that grin, but for the life of her, Mother Maiden could not tell what it was.

Just because,” she thought, pausing to stare up at the bright sky, “you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

A song played in her head, but she could only remember the first few verses:

Born amongst the flames and seas

Encased in gold is his heart

Which he gave to me.”

The End

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