Trails of Intertwined Stars: Chapter 74 {Part 1}

~Chapter 51: Meeting Again~

Lewis got up from his chair, spotting his niece, strayed from the table; crying into her hands. Without a word, he carefully made his way over to the sniffling figure.
"Leora..." Lewis whispered, gently resting a hand on her shoulder," Why so sad?"
Leora spun around, and immediately went to hug her uncle, sniffling. Lewis smiled, sympathetically, giving her a small squeeze before pulling her away.
"You're just like your mother," Lewis chuckled, protruding a handkerchief from his pocket," She cried the most when we were young."
"I don't cry much," Leora lied, pouted.
Lewis chuckled softly, dabbing at her face gently, wiping away her tears.
"If you say so. But, do you know what always made your mother feel better?"
"What?" Leora's expression softened.
Lewis pushed the handkerchief down into a small gap in his fist, and then, in an instant, revealed the handkerchief had vanished in thin air. Leora giggled, weakly at the simple parlour trick.
"My! Usually your mother would have been in awe!" Lewis exclaimed," You seem hardly phased, Leora."
"I'm used to your magic tricks uncle Lewis," Leora smiled.

"And your mother wasn't?" Lewis chuckled," I would perform the same trick to her every four days; didn't stop her from being amazed. Though, I like to think my skill in magic has improved since then, no?"
"I'm sure it has," Leora nodded," Tell me more about her, uncle."
Lewis nodded, thinking carefully.
"Well now, let's see...she adored nature. I remember her taking me to this pond near where we lived, there would always be these ducks swimming around. She told me that one day she would have a duck pond of her very own. I don't suppose the large pond near here has ducks?"
"It depends on the season," Leora hummed," On occasion we do."
"I'm sure my sister was ecstatic about that, then," Lewis smiled," She always loved their little personalities."
"They are funny little creatures."
Lewis smiled, softly," Now that I think about it, she met your father at the very duck pond we used to go to as children."
Leora's eyebrows raised, surprised she'd not heard this tale from her uncle before. Lewis grinned, knowingly.
"Oh yes, her and Vincent Mohan met at that pond, how could I have forgotten?" Lewis laughed, nostalgically," Your father told me she was as beautiful as a swan. They loved each other, truly."

Lewis smiled, mischievously, thinking about something.
"You look just like her, Leora."
Leora chuckled, awkwardly," You're just saying that."
"Genuinely," Lewis smiled," You're like a replica of your mother; then again, you are your own person too, Leora."
Leora smiled, softly. Lewis leaned in.
"Let's ignore this dull garden party, shall we?" He whispered," You know, I that Jacques fellow brought an extraordinarily feminine fan with him and left it on the bench. Would you like to do a photoshoot with it?"
Leora smiled, knowingly," A Parisian fan? I daresay he'd mind if we borrowed it ever so briefly."
They glanced at the picnic table, and found that everyone there was distracted. Nobody truly seemed to care much for what they were doing, so both Leora and Lewis took the opportunity. They rushed over to the camera, Lewis plucking the fan off of the bench and handing it to Leora. Leora smiled, swatting the fan so it came fully out, and playfully fanned herself. As her uncle set up the camera, she pretended to dance with the fan, like she'd seen many traditional dances do; it was a blend of a waltz and ballet, which she could not exactly place. Lewis smiled as he saw his niece do this, and held his hand out for her to take.
"My lady."

Leora giggled, putting her hand in her uncles; fanning herself as he walked her over to the bench, like you'd imagine royalty would.
"Wait a moment, follow my finger," Lewis murmured, snaking his arm around her waist, as he stood behind her.
He held his finger out, a waved it around the garden, in a manner Leora couldn't quite explain. It made her awfully drowsy.
"Uncle...what are you...?" Leora yawned.
"I think the photo would work best with a placid expression, don't you, dear?" Lewis smiled.
Leora sleepily trudged to the bench and slouched down, fanning herself to try to keep her eyes open. As she did, Lewis got under the cloth of the camera, configuring the settings. Leora desperately tried to keep herself awake with the fan. She wasn't asleep, no, she knew that much. She was in some sort of realm in between. Where everything felt like it was slipping and pulling her down, almost. There was the bright flash of the camera, and suddenly... everything stopped.

Leora sat up, her eyes wide and stunned. Everyone else was...frozen? They weren't moving. None of the guests or servants, they simply existed like statues. Even uncle Lewis, was frozen still, under the covers; the smoke from the camera froze too. Yet, Leora could still hear the faint hums of their chatter; it wasn't a completely voidless place. The once summer's morning sky, had turned completely dark; as if the sun had been snuffed out, and there was a cold and dead feel to the air. The manor was illuminated in this harsh, blue light. Leora startled up, glancing around. And then, she noticed the one thing that was moving, normally. Stood, a little further away from uncle Lewis and his camera, was a ten year old boy. He had brown hair and lifeless eyes that bore into Leora. She recognised him in an instant from the portraits, despite remembering so little about him.
"Duncan..." Leora whispered," It is you, isn't it?"
The boy stared at her, silently. He didn't open his mouth to speak. Leora staggered over to him, trembling, ensuring to be cautious; like he was some wild, feral animal. Duncan did not make a move; he didn't seem scared, but he didn't seem very welcoming either. The girl raised her hand, and gently went to trace his cheek. She recoiled when she was met with an icey cold that ghosted over her fingers; like plunging into the riverside.

"Duncan, say something, I beg of you..." Leora whispered, her voice hoarse with unshed tears.
Duncan furrowed his eyebrows, his lips pursed. He cast his gaze to the picnic table, looking quite furious at some of the figures sat there.
"You always liked parties like these, didn't you?" Leora muttered," Duncan, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to make you feel bad by having a party without you. We didn't mean to make you feel all alone."
"We," Duncan scoffed at the words, distastefully.
Leora startled back slightly, despite telling him to speak, hearing his voice again was weird. It was like remembering an old song; yet it was oddly disturbing. Perhaps because of the water, choking at his unused chords.
"Duncan..." Leora whispered, remorsefully," Don't be like that..."
Duncan looked at Leora up and down.
"You've grown," Duncan murmured, bitterly," You look like a lady now. Had I been alive, I should have married you by now."
Leora blinked away tears of fear at his bitter tone, and nodded weakly.
"Instead, he has beaten me to it," Duncan gestured at Henry.
His gaze soured instantly.
"Aren't you happy for him?" Leora whimpered," Don't be vengeful, Duncan. Your mother, she wouldn't have wanted you to b-"
"Don't speak of my mother!" Duncan snapped, suddenly," You don't know what she'd want or not want! I was the one who couldn't live, I'm allowed to be vengeful!"

"Oh Duncan," Leora whispered in horror, tears dripping down her face," What has become of you? You are not the boy I knew..."
Duncan looked at her, in shock and hurt. He grew cold in mere seconds.
"Why is it Harry should marry?"
"Henry never got anything as a child. You know that, Duncan."
"And now he has everything."
Leora shook her head," Don't be angry Duncan. Don't do this."
Duncan gritted his teeth, and stormed over to Leora. Duncan went to grab her, and she was half expecting for him to phase through her. Instead, his hand caught her wrist in a deadly grip, and he looked down on her. Leora blinked in shock. The ten year old was taller? Then she realised, she was back as that two year old girl; staring up at her cousin in true fear.
"WHY MUST YOU MAKE IT DIFFICULT FOR ME, LEORA!?" Duncan yelled, shaking her madly.
Leora felt sick with horror as she looked up at the ghost.
"P-Please-! Duncan-!"
The boy shoved her hard onto the ground. It went black. Leora jolted up, eyes wide. She was back. The chatter and happiness of the guests had resumed, and they were back to that sunny, summer's day.

"I think this image will be a good one, my dear," Lewis chuckled, getting out from under the cloth; waving the photo.
He paused as he noticed Leora rubbing her head, pale as a ghost.
"Leora...are you feeling well?" Lewis frowned, concerned.
"No..." Leora muttered, standing up suddenly," I think I have a headache. I...I need to lie down..."
Before her uncle could say anything, Leora dashed into the patio to go to her room. Lewis watched in shock, but shrugged it off; glancing down at the photo. It was Leora resting against the bench, her eyes open yet drowsy as he'd intended; fanning herself languidly. It was a beautiful composition, one he'd quite eagerly hoped to be composed into oil paint into some gallery some day. But then, he spotted something. He squinted, leaning in close to try to figure out the anomaly in the photo. Poking out from behind her hair, were blue fingers, wrapped around her neck in a death-like squeeze; which you'd imagine murders do. There was something disturbing about it that Lewis couldn't quite explain, yet he brushed it off as being some faulty issue with the ink in the camera. He set the photo down on the bench and made his way back to the picnic table.