The rain kept on during the walk home. The bustle however died down during the setting of the sun. Evenings were always pleasant especially when the silence was everlasting. The mist along the water during the sprinkles of rain kept divine-like awe in my eyes. Trudging on, the water and dirt collected along my boots, my hair matted from the downpour. Though I did not mind whatsoever. I tied my wet strands back into a tangled knot before turning from my usual route into the cathedral. Saint Paul, though the largest, was the quietest at this time. The solitude of the people was kept at ease while their conversations with their angels persisted. I was not a religious woman. I could understand many who rely on faith, but I do not. But I knew one who did. The night was young when the lamps flickered with their oil ablaze. The streets lined with puddles gave a glow to the ground, almost fairy-like as I walked towards the flight meeting up with the doors of the palace. Trotting up the stairs, attempting with my might not to slip away into the street, I latched my hands on the knobs that made entrance very easy. As I grazed my hands along the wet wood, I noticed the scrolling of caulk and carvings engraved into the surface. “Sanctuary”. Over and over again. And to this sight, I glanced around and noticed Narkers huddling within the shield of darkness, waiting for the night to fully take over, I hesitated no longer than I should have and made my appearance into the church to the sight of many altar candles glowing like stars.

Columns that Tower over the floors above guide the eyes to the overlay of paintings along the ceiling. Suns, Stars, Angels, even us weary humans. It’s strange to think about us people up there without wings. Whether or not they were portraying the equals that we suppose we are versus the higher ones, I could not answer. Very few sat at the pews, bowing as if they were cowering at the same time. Lavras lined the seats and kept the surroundings in a comforting tone. The small footsteps that I took almost felt out of place due to the quiet nature of the area, too disruptive to the people who were meant to be there on their own accord. Making my way along I did not notice a second pair approaching closer to me. “It has been a while, My dear O’Neil.” A kind and yet sombre voice put my nerves to ease, before turning around to see a man covered with gray hair, pale skin underlined with dark circles below his eyes and a long garb that resembled that of a priest. “Father Nicholas. It's been some time.” A smile etched my face, and it felt genuine since the last time I did so. This man seemed to have known me for the longest time. The origins were not as clear to me as it was to him, but I tend to let mystery keep itself unknown. “I take you here to visit her?” A tired look made my spine shake. While he wasn’t in a bad mood, I could feel the tenseness in the air rise like steam from a kettle. “Is everything alright, Father? I know it's been quite some time but I believe I am still able to tell when something does not sit well.” A heavy sigh escaped the chapped lips before he looked towards the altar, standing fair at the end of the building. “If I will be honest with you Bree, I am not well. This war has not been good for the well-being of this city, I fear.” He began to walk, so I followed along to continue listening. “The homeless claim sanctuary which I don’t mind, but because of that, protests amongst the common class have been never-ending. The threat of a bomb graced our presence a few weeks ago, thankfully it was defused properly and the military has been endlessly patrolling the area and the church. Truly it has been a waking nightmare.” His walking stopped in front of the large statue of the cross, stoic and still.

“Well with all apologies, I am sorry to hear of this, especially since you always come off as this unfazed man. I guess it's because- " "It is not due to their stay.” I did not get to finish before he intruded on the remark. A pit feeling hit the bottom of my stomach as his blotched index finger towards the back end of the cathedral, along arches and arches of pillars, huddled whether to keep away from the common folk or to simply not be seen at all, homeless lay within the shadows of the palace. “If anything, their stay has kept me busy in my many years. I cannot tell whether they are part of the ones who bear their fate or not but regardless they will not be turned in by my hand. I have made that mistake once, never again.” A dreary tune etched his face before it was interrupted by a pitiful cough, echoing through the acoustics. “Say my dear, what has kept you busy with your lonesome?” If I had the ears of a dog, they would look like low-hanging fruit. I always admired the fact that I could live and be fine on my own, however, I missed the people aspect. Even though my father and I never got along, the presence of another pulse put me at ease. “Lonely to be honest, Father. Dorthy has been keeping me busy within the bakery. Regardless of that, I have been working away at the piano in the foye.” A smile came across both our faces at the thought of that instrument. A silence hushed over the two of us before Father Nicholas spoke, “In reminiscence of this, I should get back to my dues and allow you to see her. Let me know if the candles need to be replaced.” With a small courtesy bow, he walked off towards the shaded coverings of the totems. With a small look around, I managed to take in the sheer amount of people that lingered and I was surprised to say the least. From the eyes along the left side, around seventy men, women and children who may or may not hone danger in their system.

While thoughts persisted, I managed to work my way through the stairwells along the upper levels of the building. Being closer to the ceiling, you could see the artworks more extensively and capture the detail along the strokes. The lights seemed dimmer up along the second floor as many candles were lit along the many altars and shrines that lay in here. As sad as it was, they always made it remarkably beautiful here. The small flowers followed along with the art bound walls and mirrors that made the whole room speckled with blissful lights. The echoes of my feet started to dissipate as looking over the railing was Father Nicholas playing the large organ along the very back hall. The soft ushering tone of the pipes releasing air with a hint of melody followed along. It was peaceful. I walked closer and closer to my destination in front of a memorial altar right along the best view in the whole place, the look over towards Big Ben and the canal. I approached and grazed my finger along the old photo. While it has been a while, it was rather clean and taken care of. I could only assume that the caretakers here work on keeping the look of this place up to par. I glanced over the picture. A sad smile came through, looking at her. Felicity O’Neil. It always shocked me how much I looked like her. Her doe, brown eyes complimenting her silk net blonde hair, trailing down her face. Along her curves were etchings of freckles that seemed to encapsulate her beauty even more than I could imagine. Around her image were the etchings of small daisies riddling around the frame with small writing.

Rummaging my eyes through the area to spot a matchbox, I stole the capsule of matches and made my way back over to my mother. It took quite a few strikes but eventually I managed to ignite a small flame enough to last a single candle lighting. The crackling sparks turned the candle wick into a burning source, I flicked the match to distinguish the wood, watching the small trail of smoke dance along the sky above. The dissipating smoke drew my attention back to the light in front of me. Carefully lifting the candle, I tilted the flame to light the rope within the other wax sticks. Once they were all lit, the portrait became more lively, almost enough to notice her roses cheeks from a fair distance. I placed the candle back in its hold while I started to get myself comfortable, dropping my coat and dragging over a vacant chair from the distant end of the hall. I plopped down swiftly, watching the flames dance with the small burst of a breeze. “Hello, Mother.” I started. I can never get used to how odd it seems to talk to someone who is not in sight. My voice echoed slightly, however it was insulated slightly by the pipe organ. “My apologies for allowing my visits to become shorter, I have just been a tad over busy then usual. Since father left, it has been quite the whirlwind at home. Less lively since he has been gone too.” She would know more than I would have about him. I was never too sure if his personality was always the same as it is today, or if he was different when she was alive. I would pity her if the first was true.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

William O’Neil, first commander of the English navy brig, was a cold and explosive man. Though there seemed to be some care lingering within his body, it never really showed. He and I, though living within close quarters, we’re not close. Unfortunately for myself, I could never know what he was like before. Unfortunately, I could not know what my mother was like. Her voice never existed to me. I could never inhale her scent besides the perfume collection within my fathers ward. From what I have heard, she had perished just hours after I was born. I’ve never based it my fault of her death, and yet, there was a small guilt that muddled my judgment of her passing. “Dorothy has been raffling at me and the other ladies at the bakery. Along with that, today a few of the Narkers stole a few loaves from the front of the house. Twins actually, one who disappeared into the surroundings and another that ran within the flick of a second. Though dangerous, it’s quite incredible that people fear them though their abilities are quite nonchalant.” I looked around, making sure no one was within my ear shot. “If anything, I am quite curious about it now. Maybe I can convince the two boys I met and ask them more questions? I’m not so sure that would look good on our image, but I can always turn the two in to make father look better along with his peers. Though I may be a girl, I can still shine and help with the efforts?” I smiled at my mother, and then started to feel quite stupid. “What’s the use,” I said, slumping down in my chair, “I can’t. Just being around them may convince the police to detain me too.” The pause felt unsettling and yet enigmatic, as I felt a small twinge of curiosity implore me. “Maybe, I don’t have to meet them.” I reached inside my pocket, pressing the cold watch between my palm, shivering at the temperature of the metal. I pulled it out, revealing itself to the area.

“Maybe…Maybe this was theirs? Maybe Dan or Dennis dropped this? Perhaps maybe…?” I guided my thumb towards the pop latch. I looked inside the watch and to my surprise, it was still ticking backwards. I smiled, “The world is quite odd, huh Mom?” I smiled at her as I began to follow the backwards hand with my index finger. Round and around, I followed, watching as the seconds went by. Oddly, by some sense of doing, I felt a strange tingling sensation along the tips of my fingers. Not that of blood circulation, something that felt like I was falling apart. I furrowed my brows as with some instinct, I pressed my finger against the second hand, pushing against the hand before I felt my chair plunge backwards within an instant. My vision became black as I saw my perception of the cathedral disappear within view. Splash.

S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕ I was surroundedS̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕

S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕……By Water….S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕

S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕…..I felt the pressure release from my lungs….. S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕

S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕……Stuggling……S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕S̴̥͊̈́ì̷͔̪͕n̸̢̙̊k̶̯͔̙̊̊i̸̛̺n̴̰̩͔̚ģ̴̤̝͑̕

I stopped within what appeared to be a large and endless body of water. The echos within were vivid as a person talking would be. The soft cries of what appeared to relay grief and desperation. I kept hearing ticking as it started to go faster and faster. Narrowing my eyes toward the top of what appeared to be the air, I caught a glance of a sinking figure, slowly descending through the liquid. “What the hell?” I thought, and just before I began to raise to the surface, I stopped, looking up to see a fortune staring in my direct direction. A thin masculine figure was sitting high upon what appeared to be a bridge. The closer I was, the more my body started to feel that strangeness again. This burning through my throat raged into my mind as I held my breath. It was all getting dizzy, distorted, the screaming did not help as I began to feel my eyes falter. Just as I began to lose it, all went silent around me. The figure above is still gazing in my view. The last I heard here. From them. “Welcome to Lusus.” As the figure plunged in the water, their rough, frigid hands pushed my body back down towards the surface. The plummeting feeling of falling came back as I felt the shaking around me become constant.

Bree

BREE

“BREE!”

I breathed, feeling my body shiver as I lurched up from lying on the floor. Father Nicholas was by my side, holding my body up as if I was spazzing uncontrollably. It took a few moments for me to regain some sentience, until I noticed my body was entirely wet. My hair was dripping and my clothing was soaked like a sponge. “Are you okay, Bree?” A worried look came upon his face, as he began to glance around. I managed to sit up straight as I rung my hair. Something caught my eye, the pocket watch. It was displayed open, there was ticking and yet there always had to be something,

It was now ticking

Forwards.