Manor mysteries

January 1 1800

The night was cold and the wind was howling. The homestead was covered by a blanket of snow, and as I walked home from the party I could hear the hooting and music still emitting from the miles end inn. As I crossed the river bridge, I looked down at the river and wondered. Why did I live here? Why not in Boston? The city was close, only a day's ride to reach Boston neck. Or why not out in the frontier? Live in Lexington or concord, or even in a small house in the woods? Then again, why not live here? With friends and family? I did not wish to move from the homestead, but I always wondered why it was created. I thought on this as I walked back home. I walked up the steps to the manor and opened its door, closing it quickly behind me so that none of the cold would get into the house. I stepped lightly up the stairs, not wanting to wake up my little sister and hear her cry, or even my brother for that matter to hear him lecture me on how important sleep is. I entered my room, and saw the porch door open, with the wind blowing into the room. I quickly closed in, but could still feel the cold. My room was freezing, so I decided to start a fire. I walked over to my fireplace and saw only two logs left in the rack. I sighed, this couldn't possibly last for the night, so I decided to get more. I didn't want to bother father from the party, so I decided to take from the pile on the side of the house myself. I slowly walked downstairs and went out the backdoor. As I stepped out once again into the freezing cold, I could see the cluster of ships my father had at the docks. He had told me that they were all for trading, so that we could keep building the homestead. I turned away from the view and walked around the corner of the manor, picking up an arms full of timber and went back into the house. Then, it happened. I dropped the logs and put my hands to my eyes. Every so often my vision would flash, and then I would see everything as if it was an aura. Whenever this happened, my father would come straight to me, and I would see him in blue. I didn't understand what it was, and he always told me that it was a natural thing for us. I used to get migraines and dizziness from these occurrences, but now I just felt a slight headache. I pulled my hands away from my eyes and opened them. Like before, everything was different. Except this time, one thing caught my eye. The candle holder on the wall, looked as if it were painted in gold. I tried focusing for a moment, collecting my thoughts and focusing on the candle holder. I slowly walked over to the object, examining the holder with concentration. What did it mean? For an odd reason, I attempted to pull it. As I did, I heard a creak in the wall, like as if gears where moving around. Then as I turned, I saw part of the wall behind the stairs indent. It was a secret door, but what was it hiding? For a moment I debated if I should investigate, or report this to father. No, father was at the party and would likely tell me that we could look at it tomorrow. My curiosity took over me as I pushed the door all the way back. A stair case led downwards, with candles already light. Why would there be light candles if this was a secret door. I walked carefully down the stairs, hoping not to make a sound. When I reached the bottom I saw a room filled with strange objects. To my left, was shelves filled with books and rolled up papers, and in the back was a row of wardrobes, all filled with strange looking outfits. To my right were tables, and on them scattered documents and manuscripts. All the way to my right was another doorway, and from what I could see had racks filled with what looked to be hatchets and knives. I looked at the books, picking up one and seeing an odd symbol on the front, like a triangle with the bottom line curved. I opened the book and saw writings in a language that I did not understand. It looked somewhat Middle Eastern, but I couldn't be sure. I closed the book and placed it back in its proper place. I then looked at the racks of clothing, each of them filled with silks and belts, most of them containing hoods on them. I moved on to the tables, seeing now in the corner a portrait slacked against the wall. I picked up the painting, seeing a white man with dark hair and a scar across his eye. I put the portrait down and looked at the papers scattered about the table top, Most of them letters. I picked up one and saw that one was addressed to a woman called Aveline De Grandpre. I paused for a second, isn't that Auntie Aveline's name? I put the paper down and looked at the doorway, seeing racks full of swords and rifles and flintlocks. I walked over to the one filled with the hatchets and picked up one that caught my eye. It had a wooden handle with a leather grip and the blade forming the strange symbol I had seen earlier. I placed the weapon down and looked back at the room. In the center was a wooden beam staked into the circle of dirt on the ground, and a structure that resembled a man, a sort of punching bag. There was so much in here, I didn't know what to do. Then, out of silence, I heard someone say my name. "Luke?" I heard my father say. I turned around and saw him standing there. "Father, I was just, getting some timber and then I got the vision again and I... I found this place" I sad biting my lip. "What is it?" I asked him. "I suppose there is no denying it" My father said to me as walked over to me. "This is a very important place in the homestead, do you understand Luke?" my father asked me. I shook my head yes and he smiled. "You must tell no one about this, not even your siblings" He told me. "Does mother know about this place?" I asked him. "Yes, but I wouldn't talk to her about it just yet" father told me. "What is it for?" I asked him curiously, but he just took a deep breath and said "I will tell you everything in the morning, but right now you need to rest, it is getting quite late" he told me. "Alright" I said to him and we both walked back up the stairs. He shut the secret door behind us and he picked up the fallen timber, and we both walked back upstairs. He started the fire for me and put the logs in the rack. I hugged him goodnight and he went back upstairs, and so now I lie in bed, wondering what that secret basement was for? What was that symbol for, what did it represent? Why does my father keep robes and weapons hidden? Why does he write to Auntie Aveline, and who was that man in the dusty old portrait? Perhaps I will know tomorrow.