Eridanus ~ A Collection Of Short Stories

Olivera's Estate

The letter I received from my great aunt was short. It simply informed me about an old estate in the village of Crusell that she owned and wished to bequeath to me. She unfortunately died sometime before I received the letter and i was left with a dozen questions.

Why did an enstranged old woman want to bequeath her estate to me? Why had she contacted me after almost seven years? Where was the city of Crusell anyway?

Great Aunt Olivera stated that she wanted me to drive up to the old estate, see if the mansion there was in order, and take possession of it. I reread the letter.

"It is with a heavy heart that I realise life is short. I do not have a great many years left with me and therefore have been searching for a worthy heir to the Olivera estate. I found you, and after much consideration, wish to bequeath the estate to you.
The Olivera tradition must continue..."

I frowned, trying to recall what the Olivera tradition was. It was somewhere at the back of my mind, but I couldn't remember it just then.

With the letter came a bronze key, for the door to the house on the estate. This wouldn't sound strange, if it wasn't for the fact that I had lost contact with Great Aunt Olivera seven years ago and she had recently died. To suddenly receive a letter from her, and be bequeathed an old estate was unusual.

Nevertheless, I planned a drive to the old village of Crusell and set off the next morning, the key and a map in hand.

Crusell is a village no map will show you, as I realised. With a faint memory of the village,  I reached the place late that afternoon and had got lost thrice before chancing upon it. I drove straight past the small cottages, hoping to catch a glimpse of an old, gothic mansion.

The village was smaller than any town, and covering its entire distance was not difficult. However, driving past the same houses and trees, I noticed something amiss. I was going round and round the place, and great aunt Olivera's mansion was nowhere in sight. With her description of the old, gothic-style house, I doubted it could be missed.

Three round trips later, I finally gave in, deciding to ask some of the passing villagers for directions.

"Excuse me!" I called out of the car window. A young lady on the street glanced at me and came over.

"Do you know where the Olivera Mansion is? I think I'm lost," I explained.

The lady frowned and looked around. "I'm sorry, but there isn't any mansion here in Crusell," she replied with a shrug. "It's mostly small cottages." When I failed to respond, she turned and walked away.

I shook my head. She must have been mistaken. There definitely was a mansion here.

The other villagers I questioned broke my certainty.  Their answers were the same. There was no mansion, let alone a huge gothic estate, anywhere in the village of Crusell.
Even stranger, with the answers they gave, there seemed to be an underlying fear in the villagers' replies.

I was about to give up and head back home when I noticed a dark silhouette at the outskirts of the village. Jumping out of my car, I walked briskly towards the building. Against the greyish clouds in the light of dusk, it wasn't hard to notice the faint outline of a  large mansion.

I paused outside the place and then cautiously opened the rusty gates. They creaked open, their rusting hinges indicated abandon. The wooden plaque of the old house bore the name "Olivera". I had found my Great Aunt's mansion.

I produced the old bronze key from my jacket and pushed it into the keyhole, brushing aside cobwebs and making sure there weren't any snakes or similar creatures that had been residing there due to the absence of human influence.

"Lady! What are you doing?" a man anxiously yelled from outside, startling me.

I turned in bewilderment. "It's a family mansion... I'm just checking...," I replied with a slight frown.

"Who are you?" the man enquired in a quivering voice, taking a step towards me. I was utterly confused.

"I'm Olivera's great niece..."

My words were drowned by his cries and the sight of black flames rising from the open door. I gasped and stumbled down the steps to the door. The man's eyes grew wide in horror as his eyes travelled up the sky towards the plumes of smoke.

"Olivera..." he choked on his words and sank to the ground. The whisps of black floated higher and circled the mansion. He stared at me. "Olivera's spirit was contained in that mansion for three years. Now you've freed her, and doomed us all."

I blinked, realisation dawning and the memories came flooding back vividly. Of course.

The Olivera tradition had been dark magic, with my great aunt being the pioneering sorceress. And now...
I would continue the tradition.