Aaron sat quietly in the tall grass, disguising himself amongst the plant life, stalking his target. His eyes are sharp and his mind is focused, like it always while he is on a hunt. He closely watches his target, Jean Marie Cairns, walk along an over grown route that leads to a rundown home on the slopes of the steep hills surrounding the remote village of Rhine.
He looks at her, studies her; he’ll need to if he wants to survive. He sees her proud walk, back straight and head held high. She is not just strong but beautiful, he thought to himself and then immediately hated himself for it. She was one of Them, but he could not deny that she was striking. Her long copper hair fell gracefully to the small of her back, swinging side to side as she walked fully clad in her long black dress and cloak. The colour of her vibrant hair set off her creamy pale skin and he wanted to know if it would feel like the finest silk beneath his fingers.
He looks around and tries to find a place where he can get closer to her without giving off his position. Noticing a tree line up a head he swiftly and silently goes towards it and climbs it, his eyes never losing sight of his target.
He had watched her all day, the service was touching but she couldn’t disguise her disgust at times for the man she thought was her father. Nor could she disguise the tears as well. He could tell, even from afar that the relationship with her father was complicated.
“Aaron?” an elderly voice came over his com-set, “Report.”
With a silent curse he answered the man in hushed tones, “Target acquired, currently tracking it now Sir.”
“Good.” The old man said dismissively. “What have you found out so far?”
“She’s young; I would say 17 or 18. She has Their features, red hair and pale skin. She’s alone now, no parents as far as I can tell. She buried the father today. I’ll need more time to figure out her schedule and the best time to pick her up.”
The old man grunted. Aaron wasn't too surprised. He thought that the old man’s clients must be getting pushy for more blood. “Okay, Very well. Has she shown any signs of awakening?”
“None, Sir. Her eyes are still dark blue.” A beautiful dark blue he thought to himself.
“Good. You must get her before she is taken by someone else. Integrate yourself into the village we should have some time before her own kind comes to claim her.” The old man paused for a while before adding. “Be careful Aaron.”
“I will Dad. See you soon.” Aaron smiles to himself; although his dad was the boss he was still awkward when showing affection. It was then when he realised Jean was nowhere to be seen.
Aaron looks around and curses himself for taking his eyes off her for a second. She was gone and he needed to find her. He races along the thicker branches, jumping silently from tree to tree. He caught sight of her and he relaxed a little, but he ignores the feeling of relief and the quickening of his pulse when he found that she was safe. He’s startled when she stops suddenly and began to look around. He thought he’d gotten sloppy and given off his position. But what was the truth was even more amazing. She was looking around; her stormy blue eyes full off light and happiness. When the light of the setting sun hit her face she curved her soft pink lips into a smile that he knew would haunt dreams. Her smile was a gift from the gods. She breathes in the air as if she no longer has a care in the world and everything was as it should be.
Aaron thought to himself that she didn’t look anything like a girl who had just buried the man who raised her. She began walking again and he silently followed her once more, with a heavy heart. He’d seen something that should be treasured, which made it unfortunate that he had been sent to destroy it.
It feels so still when I walk through the old wooden door that leads into the dark sitting room. The air feels stale and the house feels empty. Like it knows something is missing from within its brittle walls of bricks and mortar. It finally dawns on me that I am alone from now on. That feeling is scary but strangely liberating at the same time.
I take off my cloak and hang it up on the coat hook. I notice the family chest by the fire place. The only thing in this home that looks like it would make some money. It is small wooden box. With carved intricate banding and our family seal on the lid. But my father refused to sell it, even when we were starving. It felt like it was more important than me at times but it’s where his final words are, mine and my mother’s as well. However I don’t want to read anything he has to say. His final words can remain there until they turn to dust for all I care.
I walk up the creaky stairs and go into my room. It’s small, really small. A hamster would probably find the floor space offensive but it’s my space. My bed is stained and smells like mildew, but it hides my treasures.
Beneath the third floor board from the wall, under my bed are my books. They are tattered and dog-eared from the poor care from the previous owners but I love them all the same. I love feel of the pages between my fingers, the sound of the pages turning and the smell of the leather binding. I bought them with the money I earned at work at the docks. I would sell the fish at dawn when the fishermen come in from the overnight hauls. It was hard long work but people would come from as far as the mainland to buy fresh fish from our bay.
However, every week I would hide a few silver coins from my father and keep them from myself. Soon I would have enough to by a new (well old) book from ‘old man barns the Bookshop.
I lay on my bed, reading my newest book, Tales of the Sea. It’s full of myths of mermaids and sea nymphs, all from old sea folk who have sailed around the world.
I get undressed, taking off my long black funeral gown and put on my night dress so I am ready for bed. I light my bedside candle and settle down with my book. It isn’t long though until fatigue sets over me and I fall into a dark, dreamless sleep.
