THE DREAMER'S LAMENT

01. II

It began five years ago.

Mama Annistyn was head of the clan Merrigan, descended from a long, aged line of the family Forwith, which began from Merrigam herself: a noted founder of a cave that restored a kingdom its wealth, but her mark in history was drowned in the sea of smothering male inventors who strove to earn favours from great men instead of to create a brighter world. Like her women ancestors, Mama Annistyn intended to carry on a legacy unacknowledged by the world, the legacy of Merrigan, founder of improbable things. The fourteenth descendant of Merrigan excelled in all things wondrous and improbable, brought elusive treasures to powerful queens and kings, founded the abundant well in Tear's square that now watered livestock and people from all corners of the world. However so, Mama Annistyn was poor in everything that counted as money. Her mother, Sasha Snow, left her only a horse, a she-goat and three chickens, before a brutal cold extinguished her soul during a travel to the north.

Facing the frightful times of winter, with so little food to sustain them, Mama Annistyn looked to a local saint, whose temple sat in the corner of Tear, praying day and night under low candlelight in his spindly turrets. Mama visited him, bowed to the idol Baidul, and asked him to speak to God about her happiness. The saint saw a darker thing that lay beneath her poor appearance, strung from heritage. He hesitated, disgust curling in the pit of his stomach, nevertheless he nodded. Kept his promise. But hatred could do many things to twist one's words.

When Mama Annistyn and Papa Frigdan had two children, they were incredibly blessed. Mitchska and Jantzen were clever, fluent in their spoken language, and people of Tear spoke of their imminent becoming great poets, though as years grew them, Mama Annistyn and Papa Frigdan heard better of these rumours. The parents noticed near to none had mentioned such a hopeful future for their daughter.

Mitchska was rebellious and stubborn and too strange, the people of Tear said. She would not make a good wife. Mama Annistyn was heartbroken, Papa Frigdan driven to icy rage, so both sent Mitchska to an expensive boarding school in the north. The school, built like a fortress, with powerful unheard women as the faculty, held promise for Mama Annistyn and Papa Frigdan. Jantzen was betrothed to a young woman he loved – daughter of a popular poet, whose grand ancestor had been Merrigan's religion convert of a younger sister. Mitchska was off to a scholarly life.

Incredibly proud they were, when Mitchska returned home. Jantzen, thankfully, harboured no bitterness towards his sister, and both encountered in a friendly discussion about the present literature. Mitchska became the star of the family. People who'd doubted her bit on their bitter tongues and praised her for her numerous accomplishments.

For a moment, everything was beautiful. A frozen frame of time captured underneath a globe of glycerine and glitter, shiny and pearlescent a memory that seemed untouchable to sorrow. Until, their firstborn, their daughter Mitchska, was discovered to hold an inhuman trait – one that compelled both loving parents to isolate Mitchska from the world.

The following spring, Mitchska gave birth to a baby, whose father remained unknown, and fell to a deep, unshakable slumber. Her skin turned as frigid as ice in midwinter, and her eyes, wide awake, were marred with bulging blood vessels. That same day, when it was neither dusk nor twilight, but somewhen in-between, Papa Frigdan died, diagnosed by a forensic doctor to have been poisoned.

A wailing babe was thrust into Mama Annistyn's care, and she wept along with the child over the losses she was befallen with.

Hearing of this, Jantzen and his wife Inaya insisted that they raise their niece, for Inaya was barren and both desired a child of their own terribly. Weathered with age and grief, Mama Annistyn knew she could not handle another child, and agreed.