The Island With No Parallel

Family History

Manuel waited in the parlor, infuriated. Fernando was an esteemed man, well known. He was a bit strange at times, but to continue a charade like this, talking to a mysterious maid like this and leaving Manuel here in the dark? This was ridiculous.

Then Yunara came in. “Manuel, Fernando is ready to talk to you,” she said. Manuel knew his manner had turned a bit cold towards her, but all this mystery wrapped about her was becoming a bit much for him. He walked past her without saying anything and stormed into Fernando’s office.

“Lord Fernando, what in the world is going on here?”

Fernando replied, “Sit down, sit down. Before you start accusing and getting angry over nothing, at least let me explain.”

Manuel sat down. “You most certainly are going to explain. Why speak with the maid before you spoke with me? And how do you know her?”

“Manuel, it is impossible to explain with you interrupting. Now are you going to keep silent or would you like to keep arguing to no end?”

Manuel seemed disgruntled, but he kept silent.

“Very well,” said Fernando, taking another deep breath. This was going to be difficult. How did Manuel come to be so different from his father, a man so easygoing and patient? Fernando wished he had prepared himself a drink before sending Manuel in. “Let’s begin with your parents. What do you know about your father’s death?”

“Nothing,” Manuel spat. “I was living at his manor on the outskirts of Valencia city when I heard that he had disappeared. I heard nothing more after that. Nor anything from you, might I add.”

Fernando nodded. “Well then, whether you believe it or not, Manuel, everything about your father’s death...” he got up from his chair and reached for two books in his book shelf. He came back and showed them to Manuel. The first one he recognized, it was the book his father wrote. The other one he had no idea what it was. “...begins with his books, and the origins of your mother. You know of only the illustrations, the book that has been published and printed into a few hundred copies or so. The second book is the only one in existence, and your father gave me instructions to keep it with me until you were ready to receive it. Now, the events surrounding your father’s death will be hard for you to understand and even harder for you to accept. So are you really ready to hear this?”

“Yes,” he said immediately.

“Good. First, I want you to look at this drawing.” He turned to a page in the second book. He smiled as he looked at it. “This brings back memories. I’m sure you’ve seen paintings of her in your father’s masia before, haven’t you?” He showed Manuel a beautifully detailed illustration of his mother from the waist up. Manuel was taken by it. He had no idea his father had drawn his mother before. He perfectly captured her round face, full lips and long, beautiful curly hair that spread out rather than fall down, looking like a lion’s mane. “Now, I believe it would be best if you didn’t hear the rest of the story from me. There’s someone that can actually explain it better.”

Now Manuel was truly confused. Had Fernando gone mad?

Then Fernando reached for something in his drawer. He pulled out a small sac.

“What’s that?” Manuel asked.

Suddenly, Fernando threw the yellow powder that was inside at Manuel’s face. “Ah!” He shouted, his eyes stinging and his vision becoming blurry. “What the...” Then Fernando rang what sounded like a small bell. Manuel thought he was calling for a servant. Manuel’s vision cleared, and he saw a wolf standing next to Fernando. He leaped out of his chair. “Fernando, what the hell is going on?” He said, putting his chair between himself and the wolf.