My Love

Avery, began receiving strange letters from an unknown individual. Each day she would find a new one. Who knew that on the other side of the letters, she would find what she had been searching for?

The letters came with the autumn rain. Sealed with red wax, imprinted with the abstract shape of a bird, and words elegantly etched on aged parchment with the faded smell of pine sap.

Initially I dismissed them as a mistake - I had not known someone called Anya. They must have the address incorrect. I placed them in the lowermost bottom drawer to return to the sender later, and that was that.

Little did I know they would change my life.

One followed by two and then by several more, each of them addressed to me to inquire about my daily life, as if they had been a close friend or relative or mine.

“How are you doing today?”

“Are you eating well? You look a little thin!”

“I wish I could see you once again, my love.”

The last line was mystifying. As a young child, I had been orphaned and alone for many years until I was adopted by a modest family. They gave me my love for the pen and for books from the east and west of the horizon. I was no stranger to love, however, my adoptive parents had long since passed, and I have not met a woman of my fancy during this time.

As a successful writer, people knew of me, but certainly not well enough to end this letter with ‘my love’.

Despite this, to receive letters concerning my life and wellbeing was… heart-warming to say the least. Someone living on this Earth might still care about me.

Hence, I remained in contact with them. They already knew who I was, and so I wished to know more about them.

Each morning, I would obediently wait at the door to catch the letter as it fell through the letter box to open at my desk. Each letter brought an honest grin to my face, and I would eagerly write a reply back with my favourite fountain pen.

Anya was as old as I was! She had 2 wonderful children, whom she adored very much. However, her children had lost their father many years ago, and since then, she had many struggles to see herself through for the sake of her children.

She also said that she had a habit of wandering through town and purchasing rare pens, like myself. After seeing me alone multiple times at the antiques shop, had decided to become friends with me. Since then she had informed me of many auctions over fascinating and rare stationery, one of which included a one-of-a-kind copper blue fountain pen, decorated with precious stones in the shape of an ‘A’ from the now abolished Blythe family. A heart of gold indeed!

And yet, my gut feeling had told me that there was something strange about these letters, about her.

I was right.

The nightmares followed soon after, close to the harvest festival near the end of October. Memories of the smell of embers and ashes that pillowed into the sky. Grey smoke poured from the smashed windows and glass shattering under the feet of frantic guests who had fled from the building. The large restaurant was ablaze, engulfed in a sea of flames that lit the entire street in red.

The two children wailed in fear, tightly gripping their mother’s silk gowns as she too, sobbed loudly for the fear of her husband’s life. The man had run into the flames to save some of the other patrons of his business but had failed to emerge from the flames.

Another explosion, and the clink of platinum against the cobbled stone road rang as a ring rolled towards the woman. With trembling fingers, she picked it up and studied it with a gasp. Tears from her eyes dropped onto the metal, obscuring the signet of their family.

Just as the image began to clear, I always awoke in a panic, taking in gulps of fresh air to wash away the stench of burnt cloth and flesh.

The psychiatrist had told me that from what I told him, I didn’t have anything wrong with me, and that the sudden nightmares were extremely strange, especially since I had been communicating with Anya for a long time already.

The following day, the letter that came from the door was accompanied by a little bottle, filled with dried flowers. Chamomile, roses, and linden

With my knife, I tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. It simply read:

“Get well soon love. These teas should help you with your dreams.”

I stopped to a halt. I had not yet told her about the dreams. I had not told anyone at all but the good doctor. However, the doctor is bound by confidentiality - he couldn’t have told anyone, lest he chooses to risk his career over this. He was serious over his profession, and I couldn’t see him do such a thing.

I became washed with doubt and a deep angst that I had been ignoring for a long time. Was Anya trustworthy?

I examined the tea petals once more. Nothing appeared to be wrong with them - they looked like they hadn’t been tampered with, but I could not entirely trust them either. With a tired sigh, I placed them to one side and instead brewed my own home tea to try and soothe my nerves.

But as soon as my lips took a sip of the tea, I dropped my cup and collapsed onto my chair. Ghostly fingers traced my own and my eyes closed shut.

The walls were a bright and cheerful yellow. Rambunctious laughter echoed through the halls, the rooms and the gardens, filling the home with a joyous and welcoming atmosphere. The mansion was warmly lit and cosy, keeping the snow and cold of winter at bay. Children’s toys littered the floors, and the father let out an expletive as he mistakenly stepped on a metal jack hiding in the carpets.

“Children!” He shouted, catching the attention of the two little ones.

The boy and girl both had brown hair that appeared caramel under the light of the candles and newly installed bulbs. Green eyes met green eyes and both children raced to their father excitedly.

“Daddy! You’re home!” They squealed, gripping their father tightly and squeezing each of his legs.

The man lifted a child in each hand and threw them into the air, catching them and hugging them tightly.

“Children! Have you been giving your mother a hard time?” He shot them a look.

Both children blinked innocently. “No…”

He laughed but admonished them too “You both know you need to clean your toys up! What if someone steps on them and hurts themselves?”

“Sorry Daddy!”

“We’ll clean it up now.”

“Good, now get to work!” He placed them both onto the ground and gently pushed them towards the mess.

Someone cleared their throat from the doorframe.

The woman from before, dressed in deep red silks and rimmed with extravagant black lace.

“Ah, my beautiful wife! How have you been?” He strolled to the woman and tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear, before cupping her cheek.

“You know exactly how I’ve been, looking after your spawn!” She smiled.

The man knowingly scratched his head. “Whatever do you mean, love? The children are akin to saints!” He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, love. You do a lot for me that the world refuses to acknowledge.”

“A woman’s effort is seldom acknowledged in this day and age, love, but it will come soon. Raising children and keeping the household orderly is not an easy task, but I will treat each and every task I must do as important, no matter what.” She hummed, her eyes glazing over the children bickering about where to put one of their toys.

“One day, the Blythe family will stand proud and tall above the others, but still humble to help those who need it. Once we amass enough wealth, we would be able to put your hopes into action” He murmured, pulling her close and hugging her as if she was as delicate as an ornate glass goblet.

Her lips met his cheek as a tender and chaste form of love.

“Children! Come here once you’re done, I need to show you our family tree.”

“Okay!”

The little pitter patter of feet resounded in the room and both children peered up at the father with a smile.

The man grabbed a book from the top of the shelf and led the children to sit with him on the sofa, helping the little girl to get up as she struggled.

“Children, when you are older, you might go onto different paths or lead different lives.”

“Will we have you with us Daddy?” The boy asked with wide eyes.

“Maybe for a while,” he replied, patting his head, “but at one point, we won’t be able to be with you anymore. When that happens, you don’t need to be sad! It’s a part of life! No matter what happens, you must remember your bloodline! Don’t forget that wherever you are, wherever you may be, you will be connected with us, and with each other.”

“Is it like magic?” The little girl questioned, gripping the man’s shirt. “Will I be able to find you when I’m lost?”

“Kind of, my dear. It’s like magic, but it only activates when you need it most. But you both must keep this a secret, love. People fear what they don’t know or understand. Come look at this book, little ones.”

Both children clambered into the man’s lap and the man placed the book on top so that they, too, could see and feel the pages.

“This is a family tree. Do you both know what that is?”

Both children shook their heads.

“This family tree shows how everyone is related. You see there?” He points at his name, “That’s Daddy. My name is Ares Ryan Blythe. You see the line that connects to daddy? That’s Mummy! Her name used to be Anya Williams, but when she married Daddy, she took the name Anya Williams Blythe.”

He brought their attention to the names on the side of his name. “And these are my brothers and sisters, your uncles and aunties. The lines connected above us point to your grandparents. That-“ he traced the vertical lines down to his name. “-line shows you that Daddy is Grandma and Grandad’s child.”

“Does that mean that this line shows that me and Noah are your children?”

“Yes. You are so smart!” He roughly patted her on the head. “It means that you, Avery Ryan Blythe and Noah Williams Blythe, are both my children and heirs of the Blythe household.”

Both children giggled and hugged their father tightly as he closed the book. On the book was the shape of a bird, embroidered in gold thread, which matched the signet on his ring.

The edges of the dream began to blur and spin, but I didn’t want to leave! I wanted to know more about them! I wanted to know more about you-

My eyes slowly opened and for the first time in weeks, I had felt strangely refreshed despite the sun only just setting. The floor was still covered in ceramic fragments of the cup I had dropped prior. The tea in the pot was now incredibly cold, and the pot of leaves that I had been sent from Anya (my mother?) were now empty.

I was certain that I had put those flowers out of reach. This was more than dangerous. I had been drugged somehow. I leaned down to clean up the mess on the floor, however the shine from dark blue had caught my eye.

That was new. I had never received a letter twice in one day from Anya. Not to mention that it never came through the letterbox, and instead was left on my desk instead.

Frightened, I searched through the house to look for any signs of break-ins. I checked the windows, the doors and even the basement’s tiny window that only the rats could fit through, if they were so inclined.

There were none. Hesitantly, I picked up the letter with trembling fingers and peeled back the wax.  I didn’t trust myself with the knife at that moment.

“I’m sorry for frightening you, but I had to show you, my love. You know what to do.”

Inside the envelope was a ring. The ring. The one that fell out of the fire. There were still ashes coating parts of the signet of the Blythe family.

I had a brother! We had magic! We were always connected, no matter what. I had never been truly alone! I took a shaky breath, and placed the ring down onto the table, lest I drop it by accident.

The envelope wasn’t empty yet.

Inside was a heavy golden key, and I knew exactly where it must lead to.

I ran to the cloak room and put on my coat. I took the keys and the ring.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins. The home! Our home! I ran as fast as I could through the old forest, gripping my skirt as I leapt over branches of fallen trees.

The Blythe family had fallen into debt a long time ago and had to sell their belongings and their mansion, before the people themselves had been sold to become factory workers to pay off their debts. 

The mansion itself could not be unlocked once they left, no matter how many locksmiths had tried to forcefully open the door. The doors could not be broken down, nor the walls of the building. It had stood as an impressive and unmoving giant that was once the pride of the town. Oh how far it had fallen!

The trees whispered and susurrated in the autumn winds, moving their branches away from the path to let the light of the full moon illuminate the cobbled roads leading to the home ahead.

As an orphan, I had always wondered about my birth parents. Who were they? Why did they leave me? People always assumed that we were unwanted, or that we were unlucky. There must have been something wrong with us for our parents to abandon us in such a way. I doubt I was the only one that pondered about them often.

The mansion was an impressive piece of architecture - walls made with sturdy and large yellow bricks, with carved patterns that had eroded due to the rain and snow over time; windows that were taller than regular houses, and the door that loomed over me.

The door knocker was made of reflective brass now badly scratched. It was larger than the span of my hand. Below it sat a golden lock.

It was the perfect size for my key.

My hands shook from excitement, curiosity and fear as I slowly inserted the key. The key did not rotate.

I pulled the key back out, disappointed. Had I come to the wrong building?

“Um, hello?” A deep voice rang out from the silence, and all became quiet.

From the shadows emerged a tall man.

His shoes were made of a black leather that had thinned over the years, and the trousers were slightly too short for a man of his stature and were slightly discoloured in certain areas, especially when under the moonlight. He must not have endured many hardships over the years.

I gasped when I saw his face.

Green eyes met green eyes, both as wide as each other’s.

“Are you…” I trailed off as the man pulled me into a hug and gripped me tightly.

“You’re Avery. My sister.” His voice trembled, hoarse.

“I am indeed. You must be Noah. Noah Williams Blythe.” My hands wrapped around him tightly.

“I haven’t been a Blythe for a long time. Neither have you, sister. We had both been sent to the orphanage and lived out our different paths.” He pulled back from the hug.

His hands met mine and I grimaced at the scars and blisters that covered them. Noah noticed them and pulled them back to scratch his head.

“I’m glad that you haven’t been put through the same work that I had, Avery. I’m so happy to find you. I’m so grateful to find that I am not alone anymore.” Noah wept with joy. I pulled out a napkin from my pocket and dabbed away his tears.

“I’m glad to have met you too Noah.” I smiled with teary eyes.

I could see parts of our father in him. The same smile and the same cheerful mood that encompassed him.

Noah turned to the door and examined the golden lock, before searching through his own pockets and pulling out his own golden key, almost identical to my own.

He pushed the key into the hole and swiftly turned the key. A large clunk echoed through the night and the courtyard as the door unlatched and groaned as the door swung open inwards.

Light poured from the moon to the interior of the mansion, lighting up the wooden floor that was coated with dust and debris that had collected for decades of unuse.

Noah’s hand encased mine, both of us holding our breaths as we took a step into what used to be our home.

The doors slammed shut behind us and the candles and light switched on. Dust flew from the ground and window as the fireplace in front had set a flame, burning wood chips and logs from old timber. A woman from the top of the stairs smiled at the both of us.

Her beauty mesmerised the both of us. Even her ghostly figure and slight glow could not take away from her appearance. Long black hair rested on her shoulders and breast. Her signature red silks draped her lean body and reached the ground she stood on. Lips the colour of blood smiled warmly, and her bright verdant eyes matched our own.

She was truly happy when she saw the both of us stand together.

“Noah Willams Blythe and Avery Ryan Blythe, my children. I have had great pleasure in watching the both of you grow into fine adults that you both became today.”

Tears fell from her unblinking eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

“I wish I was able to keep a better handle on your father’s company and work - I was never good at businesses. As a result of the fire on our shop, we became placed into large amounts of debt, and I was forced to work in the factory in difficult conditions. I never did leave the factories, until my death, but I’m glad for it because I can finally see the both of you once more.”

Mother glided down the stairs and stood before the both of us. With each hand, she cupped our cheeks and held us close.

Father appeared next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Yes, my love. Even when our lives had ended, we never once left your sides. Like I said, our bloodline is special. We will always be connected whether you see us or not.”

We were both silent, mouths wide open until the gears in my mind finally started turning again.

“But, how? How were you able to finally contact us from the beyond?”

“I knew you were going to be the smart one.” Father chuckled.

“Darn, I lost that bet!” My mother groaned.

“Can you answer her question please.” Noah pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“The Harvest festival, also known as Halloween, has special events around magic and bloodlines that covens often follow at this time of year. The Blythe family were descendants of such covens and had managed to survive the witch hunts of those times. The magical energy of these lands leak through the ley lines of the Earth, one of which is directly underneath the Blythe family home.”

Just as he said it, we could see the phantom line of pure magical energy emitting particles from the ground in a swirling pattern.

“Magic from these ley lines become stronger during this time of year as the energy becomes concentrated to prepare for spring next year.” He strolled towards the fireplace and added another log from the side and poked it with the fire iron.

Noah furrowed his brow “Why can we not perform different kinds of magic like our ancestors.”

Mother turned to us “The Blythe bloodline has thinned over the years, hence the powers that we can do has also decreased. Not as much as we assumed, however. It appears we have more freedom after death, as you have seen, though becoming physical apparitions is only possible during Halloween.”

“But sending letters was a simple enough task.” Father grinned as he looked back towards us.

“Why didn’t you contact us earlier?” I questioned them.

“Dear, it took it a while to figure out how to do this.” Mother chuckled, before her face turned more solemn.

Both Mother and Father turned towards, standing opposite the both of us with a grim look.

“Listen, we can only do this for a few minutes during the peak of the night, and after that, we won’t be able to communicate with you like this again until next year. We have almost reached our time limit for now.” Mother smiled sadly.

Father gritted his teeth and furiously wiped his eyes. With big arms, he gripped the both of us into a hug, Mother following suit.

“I am so proud to have children like the both of you. We have seen you grow up and face many challenges. Noah, you need to ask that Layla out! And Avery, you need to find a woman to your fancy! Oh, and take care of that fountain pen! We got it made for you since you kept taking mine.” We both blushed, not having realised exactly how much they knew.

Embarrassing!

“Farewell for now, my loves. We’ll always be right beside you, Oh and perhaps you should go upstairs and check out the storage room. There are some things in there that might help you in the future.” Mother choked out.

We kept our grips on each other until our hands had phased through their bodies, and they become incorporeal once more

For most of our lives, we had wished for their hugs, kisses and unconditional love, and it took us many years to finally stop moving from place to place to find somewhere we could call home. To feel that warmth again for a few tender moments before having it snatched away once more… Oh how it hurt!

We held hands together and wept.

For the life we could have had together.

For being separated for so long.

For finally knowing who we were and where we belonged.

We would be connected, forever and always.

Once we had gathered our bearings again, we both ascended the stairs and searched through the rooms.

“We should split up.” Noah said. “It would be faster to find the storage room.”

“Okay. Shout if you get lost!”

I opened the first door on the right of the hallway and entered the room. Immediately, I could see the resemblance.

The walls were now a dirtied yellow and toys were haphazardly sprawled along the ground, some of them broken. The carpets were covered in dust, as was everything else. The mirror in the corner of the room had been completely shattered, and broken pieces laid hidden in the carpets around it.

I let out an expletive as I stepped forward. Underneath my foot was a metal jack. I knew my father would be chuckling at the scene, and I wiped my hand over my face with a sigh.

“I found the room, Avery, but its locked, and my key doesn’t work on it.” Noah shouted from across the hall.

“Coming!” I walked as fast as I could to Noah, and I came to a stop in front of the wooden door.

A golden lock, much like the one outside, was keeping the door shut. I took my key out once more to slot it into the hole and twist it.

It turned, this time.

I gripped the doorknob and pushed it open, hearing the creak of the rusty hinges echo throughout the mansion. Little spiders who had made their home here scuttled out and away from the room to find a new undisturbed place. A pair of eyes blinked through the darkness and a large rat jumped out from the gap and followed the spiders. 

Noah yelped in fright. “Hate those blasted things!”

I chortled.

Inside the storage room were empty boxes upon boxes and more boxes. Cabinets containing nothing but dust and insects. Our heritage had been taken for debt after all, it was only a surprise that this much had remained.

A book on the table had caught my eye.

On the hardcover was a golden bird.

I picked it up and blew the dust over the top of it away.

Noah sneezed.

I opened the book, intending to find our family tree. A paper fell out from between the pages. Noah bent to pick it up. He opened it and read it out loud.

“Dear Avery and Noah,

Hopefully those debt collectors haven’t taken this book and sold it off too. I decided to write this letter to you for when we pass.

I leave this house, our money and everything left to the both of you, in equal parts. By the time you read this letter, you should be strong and independent individuals who can take on the world. I only wish that I could have been with the both of you too.

Your fates would have been much worse at the factories, and my only hope was that you’d both be adopted in better families than what I could provide you once your father passed.

I will work hard to stave off the debt so that we can become a family once more, but in the case that I never do, I leave this letter as a testament to the love I have for you both.

Live freely and proudly, and I wish you both all of the happiness in the world.

With Love,

Anya Williams Blythe.”

Noah’s hand trembled, before hugging me again.

“All this time, I didn’t know how to feel about our parents. At times I hated them for leaving us alone! I wanted them to hurt for leaving us in such awful states! But now I feel so incredibly guilty, sister. I never knew! I never knew of their struggles.”

I ran my fingers through his hair gently.

“Parents will try their best to keep worries to themselves to keep their children happy and innocent.” I murmured. “We were too young to remember their love, but we shall remember and honour what they did for us now.”

We remained together in our embrace until the morning sun peered through the frosted glass, vowing to return home next year.

One day we’ll amass enough wealth to buy back our home and bring back the glory of the Blythes…

Author's Note

Yeah it was my first time trying to use this kind of language, kind of historical-ish and it was also my attempt at a short story.

But yeah, come at me with all ya got

Extra note: for some reason the punctuation went funny? I copied and pasted it over from my Google Docs, which was copied and pasted from elsewhere. I'm not sure why that happened, but please let me know if it happens again so I can fix it <3 <3