Mated to the Dragon

Chapter 9

Fiona’s POV

October, a month that has special significance for the Celtic people or so I've been told. A time where the chill in the air becomes readily apparent, when one can finally begin to see their breath dissipate into the brisk air surrounding them. The essence from inside one finally showing itself to them in contrast to the crisp atmosphere that's descended. The breath then tries to fight with the new surrounding it has found itself in before giving up the ghost and allowing itself to dissolve into the hemisphere. A reminder of our slow descent into forces that we have no control over.

A time for change, in which the more wintery aims of autumn become apparent. A precipice if there ever was one. It was in this month that our ancestors made decisions that would ensure if they survived winter or not. A moment to act decisively, to manifest one's destiny into one that will rise up to challenge the coming cold and unforgiving climate, with only the hope of spring to motivate oneself toward salvation.

Yet there is no such motivation for me. The survival instinct that winter once instilled in even the most lethargic of us has no use in a modern world. Here, survival by the forces of winter is almost a given. The monster in the closet that has since been renovated. Such an external force that was once so imposing that it was deified by many folklores has now become just a blip on the radar. In trying to protect ourselves from intruding influences that may be good or bad we've just been left with ourselves.

And that is where I find myself now, alone in the manor in which I never feel all that obliged to leave. The guiding arrow that has always pointed me in the direction of fate is at a standstill. Just keeping me sitting in a chair as I watch the sunlight that comes through the windows nudging its way across the floor. There are worse ways to pass the time than examining change in the most minute manner possible. A matter that most people hold as insignificant becomes under my own examination one loaded with meaning. The inherent instability of everything peaks through, the world is always moving even if we can't feel it. We're always moving. We revolve around the sun, no use in trying to find the center within ourselves, is there?

Still I'm a long way out from the center I'm supposed to be in. Instead I'm floating in the nether regions of space where the forces of gravity can't reach me. I don't seem to be following any of the rules of attraction as I have yet to find somewhere, something or someone that calls to me. So alone I sit, watching the world spin with me just along for the ride, wondering if I'll ever find some being to rotate in relation towards.

Just then I hear a noise, the type that sends your spine standing up straight. It's coming from the basement, whatever it is. The answer to what's producing it is perhaps not a safe one to ascertain, but my inner compass feels it's a necessary one. So down my arrow goes, pointing me to doom, destiny or maybe both. Guess we'll find out which one when the finish line hits.

The creaks in the Manor are more noticeable, wonder why? Maybe it's just... Could it be? Is it actually... Adrenaline? Yes it is, the fluid that hopefully will lead me to the better of the binary choice of fight or flight. A feeling that I haven't felt in so long, maybe never. At least not like this. However, I'm throwing my hat in a different direction than the two listed above. I'm going with investigation, a decision that requires a bit more rationality than the forces of adrenaline invite so I guess I have to do my best to hold it back until I need it.

Once again, that noise. Like a combination of bumping and moaning. Something beyond animalistic, almost spectral in a very fervent manner. Something ineffable in its nature, at least a nature for which we don't have the words for, lurks in the place where I'm heading. What it will greet me with remains to be seen. The overwhelming urge of my inner compass overrules any sort of fear that could find a home in me.

So now I find myself face to face with the doorknob. A simple twist and turn would bring me closer to what fate has in store for me. So following a path that's arguably predetermined, I push open the door to come even more closer to what my great beyond looks like. I just have to walk down some stairs first.

So inch by inch, step by step I go down. I can't tell you that there isn't some hesitancy involved, I'm not that close to emotionally deficient for that not to be the case. Still some basic rudimentary feelings stirring up in this cold heart of mine. I'm just not going to write a love song any time soon.

And so finally I reach the end of my journey to find... Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It couldn't have just been my imagination, could it? Nope, the noises were a bit too... Wait what's that? The ground, is it rumbling? This can't be an earthquake, can it? I just know that the energy isn't coming from underneath the surface of the earth, it's something in the air.

The temperature, it feels like it's fluctuating around me. I can't explain it properly, it's like hot one minute and cold the other, but both, but neither. It's... god, I'm so thirsty but I don't want to drink anything. But I feel cold, oh so cold and empty. As someone who's not used to dealing with such feelings there is little to no resistance to them. I just feel them with every fiber of my body.

At least I have no expectation that I should feel anyway else. That's the silver lining, no urge to fight them. I'm not sure I could if I wanted to. I just let them flow freely throughout my being with no attempt at stopping them. I accept the roller coaster ride for what it is, even if a little internal fear comes along for it. No running away for me, not even sure if my legs would permit it.

Then color. Is it my vision that's tainted or is it working properly and there's now a sudden influx of color? f**k, purple can be such an unsettling color. It's coming through in waves from some center in the room. I can't get it together enough to properly figure out where. The in between of the state of focus and blur is where I find my post, swaying and swinging in whatever foul wind is in the room.

But the color, god how it bleeds into my eyes. Even when I close them the color's still there. Some sort of kaleidoscope pattern of the most unsettling purple, with some hints of blue. No that's not it, it's too wavey to be kaleidescopey. Words, they aren't too good for describing images, especially the ones I'm seeing. I'm not even sure a recreation of these images could describe just how invasive this feels like. Whatever it is, the sanctity of my soul feels like it's just gotten a little less pure.

There was a darkness there for sure but not one that necessitated the need for a night light to keep it at bay. No, this was a darkness to dive back into when the time was ready. When I had the proper tools at my disposal.

A power had emerged to me in a most frightening way, but it was a power all right. One I felt compelled to explore further and in greater detail. The power had passed over me and I'm sure I could recreate that particular victory if round two necessitates it. I'm on a quest of fate now and it only ends in one way. No use in fretting about what the final destination may be, I'm going to get there eventually.

One time my mother, in a moment of... I don't even know, something, told me that "I hope you understand that we are doing this to you because your life is not entirely your own. You are meant for something and we are doing our best to prepare you."

Formal words from a formal lady. I never knew what she meant by that. All I can tell you is that I turned out pretty aloof, probably could've guessed that on your own though. Not a lot of sentiment coursing through these veins of mine. At least I don't seem to have any of the anger that awaits most of those not properly inducted into the means of socialization. All I have is a minor interest, a minor longing, a minor contentment, everything subdued. Not much emotion to connect me to the rest of the human race.

I was never meant to be a lightning rod for empathy. People were always meant to point and look at me.

Was this that for which I was supposed to be prepared? Was this the test where I was supposed to sacrifice myself to the darkness and therefore the curse was going to be lifted? Was it what I was supposed to do?