----------------------------------------
Within mere moment, I find myself bound within the confines of darkness once more.
Then without repose, a memory begins to unravel itself.
A memory that I’ve locked deep down into the depths of my mind, with the hope to never let it resurface ever again.
Something that I have long since forcefully chained down.
Now, it feels as if it's chaining me down as a form of vengeance.
A forceful, captivating narrative re-telling of my early life in a quaint little village orphanage.
It resurfaces uncontrollably against my every wish. A forceful recollection.
----------------------------------------
A voice, one eerily similar to my own, began to speak into my mind as my visual perception began to distort constantly.
“As a child, I never knew my real parents.”
Wha…?
Where is this voice coming from…?
Startled, staring around at an expanse of nothingness, there’s no clear sign of what direction the voice speaks from, as it echoes and reverberates infinitely.
“When I was still an infant, not even old enough to crawl, I was discovered at the doorstep of the Orphanage here in Commis Village.”
Suddenly, an image of the Orphanage came into plain view. I stood there in front of the large, beige, two-story wooden structure, divided into an east and west wing, both fitted with vividly bright red roof tiling and fixtures.
I reminisced while staring about its beautiful shrubberies, trimmed hedges and simplistically beautiful garden near the front of the orphanage, where a set of wooden double-doors sat atop a masterfully fashioned wooden staircase.
…
Suddenly, without logic or reason, I felt compelled to walk along the paved cobblestone walkway.
Honestly, it feels like I’m trapped within a maze of my own machinations–more questions than answers at every turn.
Be patient, me.
----------------------------------------
As I continue to slowly walk ahead on the pathway, the voice continues to speak.
“Whoever brought me here had left me in a handcrafted basket fashioned out of cypress wood, and wrapped in a lush blanket woven from fine mulberry silk.”
Staring down at the base of the front door, I see an all too familiar wooden basket, with a small infant inside–barely older than a week old as it cries out.
Hearing such cries, the front door opens soon after, as an old woman steps outside. Gazing intently and sorrowfully at the young infant with compassion in her eyes.
“This was how, inside of a makeshift cradle, a woman by the name of Grunhilda–the village’s ‘Orphan Mother’, discovered me outside during the midst of a harsh storm.”
Soon, a violent, raging storm is conjured seemingly out of nowhere.
Thunder and lightning crackle and cascade amidst the harsh winds.
Rainwater surges forth, drenching everything with its sheer intensity.
Within the basket, I could see that the infant’s–my short black hair was parted and damp with rainwater.
Adorning my neck, a beautiful jeweled necklace akin to that of sapphire, shone with a mystical blue hue.
It’s the same necklace I still wear.
I grip the blue-jeweled necklace hanging from my neck tightly.
Upon closer inspection, contained inside of the basket next to me was a peculiar scroll–a scroll that seemed to have décor and details not found commonly within this part of Aischala.
Inside, written neatly in the Aischalan language, it simply said–
“Please, accept and raise my daughter as if she were your own.”
“My beloved, precious Mai.”
I gaze very intently at the scroll in question.
...It’s my first time seeing the scroll that I was told about as a child after all these years.
"Grunhilda–with her silvery white, braided-hair, black mink coat and finely crafted artisanal footwear, stepped down carefully along the base of the stairs and affectionately picked up the cradle with me inside."
"She walked over to her husband, cradle in hand."
"He glanced over towards her, seated by a warmly lit and inviting fireplace."
“She decided to raise me from the time I was a baby here at the Orphanage with her late husband, Gernan.”
“Look here, this poor child needs us!” Grunhilda exclaimed to her husband."
"Handing over the scroll to him, Gernan gives the scroll a glance over, then sets it down nearby."
"After reading what was written on the scroll, he agreed with a bright and cheerful smile."
“Yep, take her in and warm her up by the fire. I’ll make somethin’ to eat for the child.”
“Both Grunhilda and her husband Gernan decided to honor the request made to them written on that scroll.”
“They were a gracious, kind and nurturing couple.”
----------------------------------------
Tears start to stream and trickle down my face.
My heart begins to ache.
Brushing away tears as they fall, I continue to observe my surroundings–my memories slowly reawakening with each moment.
The front door then closes slowly, leaving me standing there in place while tears continue to fall from my eyes.
…
I then make my way to the end of the paved cobblestone walkway, ascending the wooden staircase leading to the front door and taking a pause before I reach towards the wooden door that leads into the orphanage, noticing that the narrative voice is no longer speaking.
How strange…
Perhaps–
Coming to a brief conclusion I decide to continue onward, slowly pushing open the front door and heading cautiously within.
Bright light can be seen inside as I step fully within the entrance to the orphanage.
The door soon closes behind me.
Staring ahead, beautiful, polished hardwood adornments and flooring can be seen. Bright crystals pulsate with dim light as they hang above the room within a decorative fixture.
A simple fireplace can be seen, alongside some comfortable reclining chairs to the rightmost part of the room–to the left, a hallway leading towards the kitchen, to the center, an ornate wooden staircase that ascends upward in separate directions splits towards both the west and east wings respectively.
There, I spot a familiar young girl wearing a cute light-blue dress. Her long black hair reaches down past her knees.
I stare at her inquisitive, sapphire-blue eyes. She now looks to be between the ages of six or seven.
She sits there on a large reading chair with a hardy older man dressed in well-worn brown carpenters clothes and overalls that cover his tanned skin, chiseled features and a large white head of hair to match his strikingly large white beard.
Before I can continue onward with my observations, that same voice from before speaks again.
“Gernan was a strict, but patient man. He was well versed in woodworking and made a livelihood by his expertise in construction.”
“He did his best to impart knowledge to me, things like handicrafts, making your own dolls, clothes, and even rudimentary cooking.”
“Seeing as how I was still far too young at the time, Gernan didn’t try to rush to teach me what he could.”
“There were times I would call Gernan, Papa, Daddy, or Father.”
“To which, Gernan would show clear disapproval on his face and encourage me to call him Gernan, to call his wife Grunhilda.”
“At first, I was confused to say the least.”
“However, given time, I slowly began to adjust to Gernan’s tutelage. He was surprised by how quickly I had adapted and grown in many different aspects.”
----------------------------------------
As the voice continues to narrate, I can clearly see my younger self as she appears troubled whilst pondering something.
I don’t like this…
This feels uncomfortable and tortuous.
Still…
Despite everything, I have to continue on. My conviction compels me to see this through to the end.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"..."
“As even more time had passed, Gernan delighted in teaching me one of his favorite pastimes he picked up from some books he acquired a time ago by the name of ‘Chess’.”
Glancing down, I now see my younger self once again as she struggles to decide on what move to make next in a game of Chess with Gernan.
The large Chess pieces are too unwieldy for the young girl’s small palms to handle as she begins to fumble with the pieces clumsily.
Such a determined look…
Makes me feel embarrassed just by looking at her.
Well, she is me after all.
Who wouldn't be embarrassed looking at their younger self from well over Fifteen years ago?
----------------------------------------
“He was exceptionally astonished at just how briefly I had picked up the basics of the game, and was able to play somewhat decently against him.”
“Hoho… You’re quite good for just a young sap… But you’re still Ten years too early to beat me.”
“He promptly defeated me in every game we’ve played so far.”
I look at myself pouting.
I’m really feeling embarrassed now…
“One day, after I lost yet again to him, rather than openly gloat about his victory like usual, he said something different to me.”
"Pointing at the striking, self-crafted chessboard, he said–"
“Tell ya’ what, if you can beat me in a game of chess, you can have this ol’ Chess board I made myself.”
“It’s really special to me. If you can beat me, it’s all yours!”
“But don’t count on that happenin’ anytime soon!”
“Gahaha!”
As he chuckled, my younger self gave him an incredibly sour glare.
“This was the first moment from which I felt how to be competitive.”
“From there, I developed a fire deep within, that drove me to improve what I lacked upon.”
The visual depiction of my younger self and Gernan also fade into vapor, as if to signify the end of this “scene”.
“…”
The voice stops–seemingly as if to beckon me forward.
Hmm…?
I then notice what appears to be a light flickering from a room to the left of where I stand.
Which leads to the library.
As if being compelled to move forth, my feet travel towards the source of light.
A familiar sight greets me.
The room I’ve probably spent the most time in during my time here as a child.
My sanctuary. The Orphanage Library.
Crimson red décor of much variety adorns the majority of the room. A large stitched carpet in the center alongside crimson colored curtains, even the reading chairs follow such a pattern here in this room.
Dozens upon dozens of bookshelves, each with several dozen books nestled within each shelf–two stories worth, all separated by an entire floor. Each covered with an extensive collection of shelves.
Several light sources can be seen spread evenly across the large room.
Brightly lit crystals fixated within brass and bronze holdings–either hanging or resting on tables were located near a few comfortable reading chairs.
My hand slowly, yet affectionately, brushes over one of the chairs. I compulsively touch the hard, leather cover of one of the novels I see resting on a table near one of the chairs.
----------------------------------------
Soon, the voice speaks out again. Images of my younger self conjured from thin air playing out alongside the strange narrative.
“I would always find myself in the library reading on the myriad of different titles and topics found on the shelves.”
“At first, I was frustrated as some words and vocabulary were still beyond the grasp of a mere child.”
“Having been about Seven years old at the time, I did my best to learn about the contents written within the confines of the many books I read.”
“As this continued onward one day, Gernan saw me in the library with a confused look on my face.”
“I felt somewhat troubled. I was reading a particular book on ‘Chess Theory’.”
“Sensing my frustrations, Gernan came over to me and laughed heartily.”
“Need some help lil' sap? Here, take a seat and we’ll read it together.”
“If you’re just curious, ya' only gotta' ask and I’ll answer what I can.”
Smiling, Gernan along with my younger self, sat on one of the crimson reading chairs.
Young Mai sat comfortably upon Gernan’s lap as he read aloud to her.
A large smile could be seen on my young face while they read together.
“As time went on together with Gernan, I found great pleasure in the pursuit of all worldly knowledge.”
“It was helpful that Gernan was such an avid reader and collector of many different titles compiled from the farthest corners of the land.”
“This was the result of a policy taught to him by his Father at a young age to 'get yer' hands on as many books as possible and read up on as much as yer' head can hold'.”
Gernan could be seen with his chest puffed outward, declaring something in a loud voice to my younger self.
“Surely somewhere along the way, you’re bound to discover something you’ll be passionate about!" Gernan declared proudly.
This was followed by the image of a younger me just raising an eyebrow at him dubiously.
…I couldn’t help but laugh.
Just a bit.
----------------------------------------
“Books and the pursuit of knowledge brought me unparalleled happiness at that time.”
“Then from the labors of sheer persistence, the fruits of my labor had finally bore their reward.”
Again, my now Seven-year old self played against Gernan in another game of chess on one of the tables in the library.
That image was soon erased by the sight of Gernan’s gawking mouth–fully agape in utter disbelief.
Unable to control myself at this sight, I start to laugh once more.
“I could plainly see the disbelief across his face upon such a thing happening.”
"He then said..."
“Hah! Well, I wouldn’t celebrate too early. I hafta' let the young ones win every now and then, else they’d lose their will to keep tryin’ eh?”
Upon saying this, he smiled.
Regardless of what he was saying, I knew deep down that he was a kind and wonderful man.
Even if he was anything but humble at times.
Gernan stood proudly with his hands on his hips as he then picked up a beautiful wood and fine crystal Chess board, gathering the pieces and storing them inside a makeshift compartment.
“He handed over his prized Chess set to me.”
“Here ya' are. You won fair and square. So take good care of it!”
“I had never felt so accomplished in my life before now.”
“Full of pure jubilation and excitement, my young eyes gleamed at what was now my chess set.”
“I ran up with it to my room in glee, leaving Gernan behind, who simply let out a sigh of bemusement.”
Calling out, Gernan made one last statement towards the hall–which led to the stairway upstairs before my young form departed.
“Make sure ya don’t misplace any of the pieces ya hear?! It’ll hurt quite nastily if you step on one! Gahaha!”
“From then on, Chess became a passion of mine. I would always practice Chess theories on my own, learning how to devise my own stratagems, and play with Gernan whenever we had the time.”
“…”
Familiar silence.
Seems like I’m meant to head elsewhere now.
----------------------------------------
As if on cue in response to my self-inquiry, I could see a strong light gleaming from outside the hallway. Following the source, it guides me towards the second floor where I spot a familiar wooden door.
Among the several other wooden doors in this lengthy hardwood hall, I can feel a pulsating warmth emanating from this one in particular.
“I already know what’s in here.” I declare, knowingly.
Without hesitation, I head straight in.
It’s my old bedroom.
A simple wooden bed frame, green bed sheets, and hardly any décor to speak of.
Other than that, two circular windows to let the light in and two pairs of blinds adorn such a humble room.
The voice then on cue, abruptly continues.
“Naturally as the years went on, despite the love and affection I received from my adoptive parents, I began to wonder about many different things, like–”
“Why do we not look the same?”
“I’ve always felt like that they are my real parents, but why do I feel so…”
“Different…?”
"Different from the rest of them. My parents, and even the other children in the Village and Orphanage itself..."
"We look nothing alike."
"The blue hue of my eyes looks a bit different from other people in the village who have blue eyes too..."
"Am I even from here...?"
"Where... Where am I from?"
"..."
"Maybe I can find some books and read about this..."
"Still..."
“Despite whatever feelings I have, whenever I thought of Gernan and Grunhilda…”
“They were the perfect ideal of what parents should be.”
“Therefore, I decided that I shouldn’t think too hard about things.”
“More importantly, I knew what mattered more were the feelings contained within my heart.”
“Yes, no matter what, they’ll always be my parents.”
“I love them.” "I love them."
“That’s all that matters.” "That's all that matters."
I felt as if I was compelled to say that in unison with my younger self.
Even if it just a disembodied perception of my voice.
It felt important.
At least to me.
----------------------------------------
“With that in mind, life went on. Unabated. Happily.”
“As the years went by, and I grew older, I learned more about my adoptive parents from the time of their youth–mostly from stories they’d share with me.”
“Gernan in particular, would always be excited to share something new with me involving their younger years.”
As the voice continues to narrate, the reality around me begins to distort, and I find myself now standing outside on an unfamiliar and barren looking plot of land.
Standing there next to each other, a young woman with beautiful pale white skin, and a long emerald-green ponytail twirls a parasol that she's holding and begins to speak to a young tan-skinned man.
His physique is very noticeable bulky and muscular, covered by a simple wool tunic and bright blue overalls.
Also, his hair is jet-black and wavy, amidst it's silkiness.
They're both quite attractive really.
“Grunhilda was a very successful and renowned baker who moved from the nearby capital city in Saint-Grandis to settle down where she met her husband Gernan here, in this village.”
Wait, wait, wait...
THESE are my parents?!
…
Should I even be watching this anymore...??
“Apparently, Grunhilda had sought out the masterful expertise of a capable carpenter, seeing as how she requested to have such an illustrious and luxurious two-story mansion befitting the ridiculous amount of currency she had to spare in comparison to others living in this village.”
Despite how bashful I feel now, having realized that these are indeed the younger incarnations of my parents, the voice continues to narrate, as if ignoring my emotional outbursts, not heeding me even once.
…Well, screw you too, me.
“Soon, she had met Gernan, who spearheaded the entire construction during its Three year projected construction time.
“Despite being considerably young for his choice of occupation in comparison to other men involved in his field of work in the village, Gernan was no older than Grunhilda herself during her prime age of Twenty-five with him being Twenty-three.”
“At first, she despised him.”
“She considered him a pig-headed, arrogant oaf, similar to the other boys and men who had made attempts to court her on various occasions both in the village and during her time spent working as an apprentice baker in the capital.”
“However, the more time she spent watching him, soon she realized how dedicated and confident he was when it came to his craft. She couldn’t help but admire him as time went on.”
“Wanting to get to know him more, Grunhilda approached Gernan–sweat dripping from his brow as a result of grueling, laborious work in the blazing sun.”
“However, he wouldn’t complain even once.”
“At first, the gestures she’d show towards him were as simple as wiping away his sweat with a handkerchief. Other times, she’d invite him into the shade for a chilled drink–even extend offers to have him stay for supper.”
Oh my gosh.
“As they both got closer, Grunhilda, having fallen in love with how dependable and capable he was, asked Gernan over a shared meal at her partially constructed mansion what he thought of her–romantically.”
GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!
"One night, as they both shared dinner together, Grunhilda inquired to Gernan about what he thought of her romantically, and the possible idea of being together in a romantic relationship."
“Gernan shrugged in response and smiled playfully.”
“Yep, I knew. Always felt like someone was just starin’ at me.”
"He then winked at her."
He just winked at her...
“Flustered and in abhorrent shock, Grunhilda had immediately kicked him out of her home that night in sheer haste and embarrassment.”
...
Standing next to my Papa outside of Grunhilda's newly built home after he had been kicked out, I slant my eyes downwards in disgust at him.
Papa...
You really suck at this.
"Gernan turned to leave soon after."
“As he left, he called out to Grunhilda from outside.”
“So, how bout’ dinner at my place tomorrow, then?”
“I make a pretty decent stew! Gahaha!”
“Clasping her burning cheeks within her palms, Grunhilda could only sigh, showing clear signs of embarrassment that were still visible on her face.”
“You...!"
"Pig-headed..."
"Lovable oaf…”
Okay, I admit... that was kind of cute.
I never thought my Mother had such a sense of romanticism.
Even if she's bad at showing it.
…
I'm surprised they somehow even got together.
----------------------------------------
“This would be the stopping point to the stories they bothered to share with me."
"At least from when they were young. I wasn’t sure why, to be honest.”
It didn’t take much to imagine the rest.
Seriously.
I don't need to know.
“After construction of the mansion had been finished, Three years had passed.”
“Grunhilda and Gernan had a formal and beautiful wedding within Commis Village soon afterwards.”
“They had spent Forty years happily together.”
“As the decades went onward, Gernan proposed an idea to Grunhilda.”
“After they had both gotten married and settled down together for so long, Gernan’s idea was to turn their old mansion he’d helped build decades prior into an Orphanage."
"He really loved children.”
“Together, they were both happy with the idea, so they used a portion of their combined savings to build up and open the Commis Village Orphanage.”
“During these times, life was peaceful. They never needed to take in any children aside from when they had taken me in.”
“If the time arose, I know they would graciously and happily take in and care for any children who needed a home.”
“Many children still suffered hardships and grew up without parents or families, but seldom within these times of peace in the village.”
“However…”
“By the time I had turned 9 Years old, I knew that this peace wouldn’t last forever.”
As the voice speaks, instinctively, dread suddenly begins to fill every pore within my body.
No longer feeling jubilant or happy...
I brace for the worst to come.
----------------------------------------