The darkness felt complete. The rest of the house was beautiful and more than a house; it was a home. In the basement, where the inkiness was cold and overwhelming, Sage stood with her hand on the stair rail, looking around in the ray of light coming from the doorway above. A thin string was located strangely and randomly hanging just above her head. Reaching up, she gently tugged, blinking in the sudden blinding light as several fluorescent tubes flickered, filling the immense space with light.

"Heavens," Sage breathed, looking at the size of the area, "there is so much down here."

Turning in a circle, Sage looked at the area and slowly moved toward the wooden crates near her. Each one was marked with a year, and some had the addition of a name on the side. It didn't look like anything had been disposed of; near the back of the basement, Sage found two crates with the years of the missing journals. Wondering how to open the crates, Sage felt around the wooden edges, pausing when she felt a lever on the side. Gently manoeuvring the lever, she heard a click, and the top popped open a little. When pulling it up, Sage noted the new hinges on the side of attaching the lid to the side of the crate. A small iron arm dropped down, wedging the trunk open wide enough for Sage to see what was inside. Men's clothes, books, journals, large leather-bound ledgers like the ones she saw upstairs. Curious, she carefully pulled one from where it lay and opened it.

"What is this?" she whispered, slowly leafing through the ledger, "why are there two for this year?"

Quickly, she took photos of the ledger's pages before returning it to where it was stored. Opening the second crate was more challenging, but Sage managed; women's possessions were inside. Lifting up a beautiful wide-brimmed hat, Sage found the two missing journals. Carefully lifting both from their hiding place. Curious Sage began leafing through one reading quickly and taking photos of pages as she went, placing it back where it belonged before turning to the other and doing the same before returning it. The pages held vague references to night activity on the beaches near the house. Apparently, the wall had yet to be built. The second journal contained an entire week of agitated writings about someone missing or taken. Unable to make head or tail of the desperate scribblings, she was unsure what could have happened. At the end of the week of emotional entries, a sudden calm fell, and the desperation was replaced by several sober entries about uneventful days and how the children played in the sunny weather. The handwriting was different as well. A frown creased her brow; it must have been someone else writing. Going back several pages in the journal, Sage took in the slope of the letters in the previous entries before looking at the calm writing again.

"What on earth was going on here?" she said, shaking her head, "Something isn't right."

Quickly taking photos of the pages in question, Sage returned the journal and began lowering the hat when she spied the frame of a picture peaking out of some fabric. Pulling it into the light, Sage stared into the face of a beautiful woman with dark blonde curls framing a pixie-like face. Her large expressive eyes held a spark of mischief, full lips lifted at the edges with a slight smile as though she knew a secret and wanted to tell someone. Looking at the back of the frame, a white piece of paper held a year and a name.

"Charlotte," Sage whispered, "and it's two years before the year on this crate."

A noise from the stairs startled Sage; turning quickly, she found Maddy staring at her with a concerned smile.

"I went to the library and didn't find you, so I thought you were still down here," she whispered, "I see you found the crates."

"Yeah, I was just looking through everything and noticed these two crates stored separately from the rest," Sage said, "do you know why?"

"Apparently, these two years were the hardest for this family," Maddy said, looking into the crate, "according to records, they felt much loss and fear, and it strained their relationships."

"Loss?" Sage asked, watching Maddy with fascination.

"Pirates, the Navy of the day, invasions, fighting and then everything was okay," Maddy whispered, "how, why, wherefore… I've never been able to discover. It caused a rift in the family, but I'm not sure why or how; things were never the same after what they experienced."

"Why are these two journals in this crate and not with the others?" Sage asked.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I don't know," Maddy said, shaking her head, her gaze held a strange look as she took in the contents, "... all I know is that once every six months, I am to unpack the items and make sure they are well looked after."

"Maddy…" Sage waited until the other woman looked at her, "… why do the items in this crate affect you as they do?"

Maddy stared at her blankly before looking at the items once more, "I think they're family heirlooms …" she whispered, "… but I can't be certain."

"Are you related to Charlotte?" Sage asked.

"I don't know …" Maddy cleared her throat, "… it has never been said, but my Grandmother looks strangely like that woman in the photo."

Sage carefully returned the items and closed the crate while Maddy watched, "You came looking for me."

"Ahh … yes," Maddy said, sighing as she turned from the crate, "I have apple pie and tea waiting for you in the kitchen if you'd like something before going to work in the library."

"That would be wonderful," Sage said, "I saw a lovely spot with a beautiful table and chairs overlooking the garden. Shall we have our refreshments there?"

Maddy glanced at her before moving toward the stairs, "That sounds really lovely."

Sage followed Maddy up the stairs to the entrance hall, looking around at the hardwood floors, pictures of landscapes and fruit bowls. One near the door of children playing with an adult caught Sage's eye, and she gravitated toward it. The detail was impressive; you could see the smiles of the children and the expression of pure joy on the man's face.

"Maddy, do you know who painted this?" Sage asked, glancing over her shoulder as Maddy reappeared with the tea tray; the haunted expression had disappeared, and she smiled widely as she stopped behind Sage.

"Looking at the paint used, it had to be a local," Maddy said, cocking her head, "I don't see an artist's signature anywhere on the painting."

"I don't either," Sage said, "I was wondering because of the detail that has gone into the people and place. It's almost as if the artist was there."

"You may be right," Maddy said, a whistful note riding her words, "shall we enjoy the terrace and tea?"

"Yes, let's," Sage said, grinning as she sniffed the air, "that pie smells so good."

Smiling, Maddy led the way toward the open doors on the terrace; Sage watched her a moment before glancing over her shoulder at the painting again, sighing as she quickly followed Maddy onto the terrace and into the sunshine.

It felt right to be out here, to get out of the house; it's as though it held secrets that had been hidden for so long.

Why did someone want them to come out now? Why her?

For what reason could anyone wish to have a painful past revealed?

Sage knew that she needed to dig until the truth was found. Somewhere between the agitated ramblings on those pages in the journal and now, there was much to be learned.

A heavy silence hung in the library as the sunset shone through the windows; Sage had been over the house today and seen a lot; her notebook was brimming with observations of things she had seen, Maddy's reactions to the crates and, of course, the furnishings, painting and the items stored in the crates. So far, there was a lot of mystery but nothing about a legend; perhaps the legend information couldn't be found in the stored items in the basement or attic nor in the noted pain of the past but in events that happened after that time. Opening her laptop, she entered the name of Coopers Creek and the current date, waiting to see if anything would come up; the search took less time than Sage thought it would.

"Huh, that is interesting," Sage murmured, reading the first page of information found, "how can this town still be here, but the last entry of anything happening in it was around the Second World War? Something must have happened to make everyone believe the town was … what?"

Quickly typing in "What happened to Coopers Creek", Sage waited. Several hits online had similar information, all eluding to some strange event happening off the coast near the town. It was never heard of again or mentioned in any military updates.

"I think it's time to dig a little deeper," Sage sighed, rubbing at her stiff neck and rolling her cramped shoulders. Somewhere here, there has to be a record of who lived in this house and when. It may be how the legend came about."

Standing and stretching, Sage collected her notebook and laptop and slowly climbed the stairs into the gallery. Up here somewhere, Sage remembered a section of ancient tomes that may hold the information she sought. She intended to find out what was going on, why things happened the way they did and how these past events affected a legend put into place by someone who must have been alive during the war, all of that culminated in the disappearance of Coopers Creek. Somehow, over the years, this place had become a haven for hunted people; how did it go from a home to a non-existent sanctuary.

"Six months ... I have six months," Sage muttered, looking around, "would that be enough time to get to the bottom of everything?"

She didn't know, but she was determined to try.