The Curse of Thir -
Prologue
Rain pelted the already heavily soaked ground around the two distant figures. Their rapt gaze followed a young man, hidden beneath the gloom of the night air, with a tiny sodden bundle in his arms. The rain lightened for a mere instant as he came closer to his destination: a small flight of stairs leading to the door of a compound owned by the vicious and brutal Dreagnance. He paused seemingly dazed and confused at his current location, looked down and gazed at the odd lump in his arms then carefully placed it down on the steps. Turning away he jogged down the stairs and slowly back up the muddied path that had brought him there. The two figures, unseen by him in the deep shadows of the forest, watched with immersed attention as his soggy outline left their view and disappeared into the blackness of the night.
“Should we do something?”
“I’ve already done something Theophilia.”
“I know that, but I’m referring to it getting soaked in the rain.” Theophilia pointedly glared at the old man who stood beside her.
“It won’t be there long, so you needn’t fret.”
“I’m not fretting. I’m just concerned... that’s all.” They remained silent watching the bundle. “Will he remember this at all Lemoine?” Her frown of concern still puckered her brow as she noted a wriggle.
“No, he shall not. He will believe the child was lost along with his wife during labour.” Rain filled the silence they found themselves in yet again. Theophilia shifted her weight uncomfortably, her body filled with an uncertain chill.
“Is this really necessary? Can the child not go somewhere else?”
The old man’s greying eyes shone brightly as he glanced at her.
“I have foreseen all possible futures and here, within the walls of those we fear, the child is safest. You know this.”
“Actually I don’t. If you remember correctly you haven’t told me a single thing. You haven’t even given me a reason for all this and I would like one.” She waited, folding her arms, impatient for the truth.
“I have seen a great change for Thir.”
She gapped at the old mans’ vagueness.
“That’s it? That’s all the reason you have for me? Change?” Theophilia flapped her arms about in exasperation. “We need change, change is a good thing! Have you gone senile? Have you even told the council?”
“No I have not told the council. I’ve taken the matter into my own hands and why, when you hear the word change, do you assume it’s for the better?”
“I’m a positive person and you have most certainly lost it.”
Lemoine smirked heavily at the word positive and shook his head. If anything he had never expected her to understand the meaning of it.
“You are a listless, grumpy individual Theo. If that child is brought up anywhere near Malodour our future as an independent race shall end painfully.”
“Then why send it here.” She pointed at the dirty white bundle lying in the rain. “Why allow it to suffer under them? Why not rather... rather destroy it instead of taking this chance.”
“I cannot explain to you, but its death would cause too many ripples of consequence, especially now.”
“But...”
“Do not argue with me any further, all you need to know is, its life is valuable and necessary, even if the reasoning is unclear.”
“But-” His hand shot up and her argument fell flat beneath her tongue. He had angered her with his superiority but she was filled with sadness once she saw a large figure atop horseback stop before the door. This child’s life would not be a happy one.
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