My name is Traveleya Cleyne, only daughter of Victor and Bella Cleyne. I live on Blacktown Road, Temple Quarter in Nevarynn City, house 41-Syvillione. I write this memoir because I have had an encounter so queer to me that I should think it sacrilege to not put it to the pen; and because it is a story that only I can tell with any true accuracy.
I will begin by saying that until recently, I have never before led a life of excitement. My father is a blacksmith, my mother passed away when I was very young, and I have neither siblings nor much in the way of close relations. I have a degree in literature from Nevarynn Community College, and I work for a well-to-do records office in the Anchor's Quarter. My days consist of going to work or running errands from morning till afternoon, then coming home in the evening to read, write, and sometimes bake or paint depending on my mood.
Yet amid this seemingly mundane collection of facts, habits, and traits that make up who I am, there also lies a strangeness that I have concealed for the better part of my life, and indeed have done all I can to push from my mind.
This was easy enough whilst I was still young and could more readily distract myself with childish fancies. As I now round the corner of seven and twenty years of age, however, my growing disillusionment towards the fantasies I thought life held for me and my rapidly increasing disinterest in social and political affairs have left my mind with precious little to focus upon.
And so it was that I began to seek help in coping with my issue. My closest confidant--that of my father--held it in disbelief. "You're imagining things, little bird. It will pass," he would say. Similarly, the family doctor simply gave me a poultice to put in my tea, saying it was because I was lacking in sleep. I dared not bring the idea before a priest lest he thinks me possessed by some demon, and even a local shrink turned me away at the door saying that he had no time for 'the idle fantasies of a little girl.'
It was at this precipice, then, that salvation finally did come to me, though I could never have guessed what form it must have taken.
Some months after I had all but given up my search for answers, a friend--or rather an acquaintance--came up to me on the street with a request that struck me as wholly odd. Apparently his mother, who lived in the neighboring country of Ashrim, had taken quite ill, and as a result, he was forced to relocate so as to see to her health.
This, of course, meant that he would no longer be acting courier for my district, a fact that brought mild discomfort to me as well since it meant I would have to learn the name and habits of a new one.
"But here's the thing," he said, somewhat aside, "I've been, err--" He paused to look around. "Ya see, I've also been carrying letters for a particular noblewoman in the city--privately, of course!--and she would like it very much if I could find someone trustworthy to exclusively deliver them in my stead. Given that you pass by her estate on your way into Sullivan's"--the name of the records office where I work--"I thought you might perhaps be interested."
I declined. I had no wish to be a delivery girl for some uppity noble, after all. But when he told me of the compensation that was being offered, which was somewhere close to double my current salary and far and beyond anything a common postman would make, I hesitated.
"She's certainly the generous sort," he said, nodding at my sudden interest, "Little strange if you ask me, too. Rumors say she's the last of her name, and she lives all alone in her estate save her butler. Me, I don't much pay no mind to it long as I go home with coin in me pocket. So what do you say?"
I told him I would consider the offer, opting to allow myself a night to think it over, though I confess only so I did not seem desperate. The offer was too lucrative to pass up for what little work that was required of me, and when I met him again on the next morning, I formally accepted the job.
I spent much of the rest of that morning discussing how the assignment was to operate. It was simple enough: Lady Eizenstrauss would arrange for me to pick up letters at her estate's mailbox and carry them wherever in the city they were required to go. Typically there were only a few letters at a time, and most of the time they were either in the Old Imperial district or one of the surrounding sections of the city.
In some rare cases, I might be sent across town on special errands, though I would, of course, be amply compensated for my time. This compensation, he said, would be delivered to my home address, which I would have to provide when I picked up the first delivery along with a few other minor details.
"Won't I need to meet with Lady Eizenstrauss personally to discuss these arrangements?" I asked, my natural sense of curiosity getting the better of me.
"There won't be any need," he said as the two of us enjoyed our tea outside one of the countless small street restaurants common to the Anchor district, "I've provided all the direction you need. So long as you follow them, you'll be fairly compensated."
"Haven't you ever met her?" I pressed.
He shook his head. "I've only ever met her servant--Basil, I think his name was. He's a strange chap as well, real pale like and young to boot. Curse me if I don't wonder why for all the world he'd choose to be a servant.
I paused to drink a little, then continued, "Doesn't she worry about the trustworthiness of those under her employ?"
He gave me a keen smile. "She has a way about her, I think, of knowing someone's character without even having met them. My guess? She probably looks up your record and if'n you don't meet her criteria, she cuts you loose and finds someone else. 'Spose you'll find out after a few days, won't you?"
"I suppose so," I said wearily. This had not satiated me, and the more I thought about it, the wilder my interest in my new employer became. I knew the name 'Eizenstrauss'. Everyone did. They were one of the oldest names of Nevaryn City, and perhaps even the whole of Svietsylvania. I suppose my lack of deeper knowledge on them was likely due to the fact that the name had dwindled to almost nothing within the past few decades, largely due to the outbreak of the Gray Fever a few years before.
I bid my friend farewell and he offered me luck in my new enterprise, towards which my mind was occupied with for the better part of the evening.
As I was to begin the next day, I busied myself with studying a few old maps which borrowed from the records office. Fortunately, there was no specific time when Lady Eizenstrauss wished her mail to be picked up and delivered, and thus provided the addresses were not too far in between, I could still work there in the mornings.
It was nearing midnight when I finally dozed off, and when morning came shortly thereafter, I began my day much as I'd always done for the past few years, albeit with the addition of a pair of shoes more appropriate for walking.
That afternoon, I made my way from the records office towards the Eizenstrauss estate. I found the place easily enough, a three-level, chartreuse-colored mansion situated atop a small rise near the western portion of the Old Imperial district. Much of the house looked dark and quite vacant, but the grounds themselves were modestly kept up and I had little trouble finding my way to the small outlying domicile that I guessed must have once housed a groundskeeper and perhaps a few servants.
As per my friend's instructions, I found the key hidden inside an old stump a few paces off and was soon wandering about the little house. When I entered the kitchen, I spotted the little breadbox tucked away on the counter and approached it. Two letters, both addressed to places within the Anchor's Quarter, along with a sheet of parchment and a pen so that I could provide my personal information. That done, I left, though not before stealing a glance or two in some of the abandoned rooms to satisfy some idle curiosity.
When I exited the building, movement drew my eye to the mansion where I could plainly see a figure watching me from one of the windows on the third floor. A tall man by the looks of him, and quite pale, though it was too far to discern any other distinguishing features. This must be the butler, I thought, and made sure that he saw me place the two letters in my satchel before leaving.
I could feel his gaze on me still when I reached the estate gates, though when I turned to glance back again, he was gone and the jade curtain where he been standing was now drawn closed like the others.
I delivered the letters without delay, determined to make a good impression on my first route, and was home within the span of a few hours where I was surprised to find an envelope with my stipend for the task already waiting for me. A note also accompanied it, though it was little more than a generic 'thank you' message signed with an ink-stamped 'E' signifying who was was from and no more.
The few weeks or so carried on much in the same way. Three times each week I would visit the Eizenstrauss estate and, usually find no more than two or three hours worth of work before me, and each day my wages would meet me at my mail slot, though I had yet to see it's deliverer.
Yet though I was content to do business in this way with Lady Eizenstrauss, I found that it was growing more and more difficult to fight the mounting sense of curiosity about this whole affair. Surely I had been tempted to open one of the letters or parcels that I was tasked with delivering, but my ethics prevented me. Still, if there was some way...
It was perhaps the eleventh day of my service to Lady Eizenstrauss when I once more visited the little house on the outskirts of her estate. I had been held up at the records office for longer than expected and thus it was later in the evening by then, and as I was leaving, I began to hear the sound of music drifting melancholically through the air. A piano, by the sounds of it, accompanied by that of a soft violin medley. I followed the sound with my eyes, fixing on a second-story window that appeared to be open and the room beyond well-lit, though unfortunately, it was too high for me to see into.
One of those instruments must be Lady Eizenstrauss, I thought, and I looked down at the two letters that I held in my hands. One of them, I noticed, was hastily scrawled--likely a late addition to the pile, and though I could discern the address easily enough, there was a bit of a smudge over a portion of it that anyone else could not have been faulted for misunderstanding.
This was the excuse I had been looking for, and, wiping away the triumphant smile on my lips so as not to betray my own plot, I stepped rapidly towards the mansion. I came to stand before the great double doors and looked up at them, eerily aware of the strange, symbolic designs carved carefully into them, like some ancient and dead language with which I was not familiar.
I waited long enough for the song to end, savoring the serene notes of the violin, and then reached forth and wrung the knocker on the door until I was confident that I'd been heard.
There was a distinct silence, then, and I stepped back so that I could watch both the door and the open window. All the while, however, I could feel my heart thumping with anticipation, and I clutched the letters to my chest in a vain effort to quiet myself.
Presently, the doors parted and I was met with the visage of a man some thirty or so years old with slick brown hair and piercing gray eyes. He was a slender sort and was adorned in a jet-black suit that was common to stewards and the like, though with a curious red ascott that fell over the front of his shirt.
He said nothing, merely looking at me questioningly and his body acting like a wall between my eyes and room beyond.
"Oh, I uh--" I stammered, suddenly having inexplicable difficulties finding the right words to convey myself.
"Miss Cleyne, isn't it?" he said in a crisp, yet hollow voice. I nodded and he asked another, "Is there some problem with your deliveries this evening?"
"Oh, no," I said, then caught myself, "I mean, yes, there is. You see, one of the letters has been smudged slightly and I can't quite make out the address."
He held forth his hand and I felt my heart sink a little. Surely he would see be able to decipher the error easily and simply point me away with the right address.
I handed him the envelope, though, and he put it under his light. After a moment, a smile crept across his lips and he shot a knowing glance up at me. I knew right away that I had been seen through, yet to my surprise, he stepped back into the room and opened the door so that I might enter.
"Let us ask my mistress, shall we?" he said and bowed formally as I slowly stepped into the room, all at once feeling the heat of the great fireplace that stood across the way.
After I entered, he bid me make myself comfortable while he informed Lady Eizenstrauss of my arrival. I said I would and was about to make myself over to the fireplace when my foot caught on something that seemed to be lying across the floor.
I looked down and noticed that it was a long, silver chain which was attached to the leg of the butler on one end while the other trailed the length of the room and ascended the stairs where it disappeared from view.
I gave this only a momentary glance, pretending I had not noticed and continued on. He seemed to pause a moment, and I could not shake the feeling that he was equally surprised by the event. Whatever the case, however, he eventually left without a word.
As he did, however, I felt a sensation creep up my spine. There...wasn't any sound. I should have thought that the chain would have clinked and rattled as he walked, yet the only sound that issued from the room was that of the crackling of the fire and the persistent knocking of a great clock that hung above it.
This strange sensation seemed to carry on with me for as long as a glint of the metal remained in view, and I must confess that the moment the butler disappeared into one of the doors on the second floor, I could not take my eyes from the silvery object as it slithered silently after him.
The wait was agonizing. I suppose I had not really expected to have gotten this far, and my mind seemed to be trying to list and categorize all the questions I should try to answer about my mysterious benefactor. I found myself also wondering what to expect upon meeting Lady Eizenstrauss. Certainly, I had already formed a sort of image of her in my own mind, though looking back, I can only laugh at my own fancies.
After a moment I felt a sudden chill in the air and looked around me, nearly jumping out of my skin to find that the butler had returned and had approached me without my noticing. I should think the man must have the softest steps in the whole of the world for me not to have heard him in such a large and clamorous room.
"Lady Eizenstrauss will take you in her sitting room," he said, his voice more than made up for the silence of his approach, his tone thrumming in my mind. "This way, please."
He beckoned me to follow. I did, though not without a building sense of reluctance, as well as now and again stealing a careful watch on the floor so that I might avoid the chain that dragged along behind him.
Presently I entered a wide room filled with several small tables and chairs, all arranged around yet another great fireplace. One of the walls was lined with rows of books while a great piano sat in the corner of the room, its keys yellowed and its casing showing signs of wear from years of use.
Upon glancing around the room, I seemed not to perceive anyone within save for myself and the butler. I was about to ask him the meaning of this when a soft, high voice spoke out of the silence.
"Come forward, Miss Cleyne." My gaze followed the sound, settling on forest green chair in the corner of the room topped with a white blanket, into which was planted the form of a young woman whose attire seemed to camouflage her perfectly against it. She was fair and thin with a curtain of ebony hair that swished gently at even the most minor movement and strange silvery irises that nearly blended with the white of her eyes.
I felt myself gulp involuntarily and approached wordlessly. As I did, she held up a dainty hand gloved up to the elbow in green silk and motioned towards a chair the opposite from her across a table.
I made sure to curtsy before her before this, an act which seemed to bring an approving smile to her thin pink lips, as well as a nod of acknowledgment as I took my seat.
"My, but aren't you the pretty one," she said, her eyes tracing my form. I felt my cheeks growing warm and I cleared my throat.
"Thank you for seeing me, your Ladyship."
She wrinkled her nose at my use of the title, but said nothing, simply nodding again for me to continue.
"I am sorry for disturbing your evening, but I had a question pertaining to one of the letters I am to deliver for you."
"Yes," she said, picking the very thing up from the table in front of her and looking at it. "I seem to have rushed this one and the address been damaged."
"I'm sure that my Lady has far more important matters that attend her mind. She need not apologize for a simple mistake such as this."
"Oh?" she said, her voice becoming somewhat pretentious and her eyes drifted to meet mine. After a moment, however, she relaxed and continued, "You are too kind, Miss Cleyne, and a far cry more lenient than I am. I'll see to it that you are rewarded adequately for your vigilant attention to detail."
"Ah, that is not necessary my Lady," I said, smiling sweetly, "I only wished to help y--" I said, my words catching in my throat. All the while I too had been studying her intently, and my eyes had settled on a curious silver bracer that she wore on her left arm, to which I realized at that moment was attached the other end of the silver chain that I'd nearly tripped over in the hall below.
She paused and looked at me, though by then I regained myself, pretending to clear my throat again.
"Apologies, I meant to say that I wish to make the most of my service to your Ladyship. She has been most gracious and forthright with my compensation, and I am merely looking out for her interests."
To this she arched a sharp, pointed brow, looking at me discerningly and then glancing at her servant, who stood behind me and out of view--or at least, I did not find it seemly to turn my eyes away from my hostess.
After a moment, she looked back at me and smiled, the upper lids of her eyes sinking slightly as she did so and slid the letter across the table to me.
"As you will, then, Miss Cleyne," she said with a tone of approval, then reaching for a silver tray that sat beside the chair and taking from it two cups and a decanter that smelt of a sticky sweetness. I did not refuse when she offered me a drink, and I inhaled the aroma with relish, instantly spotting the taste of honey swirled amongst fine tea.
"How fair your assignments?" she asked after we had both drunk a little. "I have been quite impressed with your diligence since you took over for..."
"For Mister Mont Blanc," I found the name for her, seeing that she was struggling to remember it. My friend had said he'd never met her in person, after all. I continued.
"I'm settling into the routine well. I have wanted for nothing beyond what conveniences my Lady has provided me."
She nodded, "That's wonderful to hear. I'm sure you will continue to impress me, which will, of course, be reflected in your stipend."
"My Lady is too kind," I said. She laughed a little through her nose and drank again, afterward placing the cup on the table before her. Though I had had very little first-hand experience dealing with the nobility, I knew from my own studies that this act was a sign that she wished to adjourn our meeting. I did the same and began to rise from my chair when the servant approached, bending down to take the cups and in one swift action spun on his heel. This caused the chain around his ankle to swirl back into view and I could not help my gaze from settling on its unnervingly silent form as it looped around itself like a coiling snake.
When I regained myself, I looked back to Lady Eizenstrauss to find her watching me very intently. As our eyes met, I felt the color drain from me and simultaneously her mouth seemed to curve up into a victorious smile.
"Ah, I--" I started.
"How fascinating..." she said, her voice enamored and her words trailing off. She looked at me with a queer expression that seemed to me like awe, and before I was able to break away from her gaze, she lifted her arm and dangled the chain before my eyes.
I shuddered visibly at the noiseless object, and her melancholic thankfully broke the unrelenting silence.
"Can you...really see it?"
What a strange question. I nodded, "Yes, I can. What is it?"
"Truly?" she pursued, though the question this time seemed rhetorical and she leaned back, cupping her elbow in one hand and bringing the other up to pinch her lip as she stared at me.
A form passed through the edge of my periphery, and I looked to see the butler crossing over to her side where he leaned down and began whispering into her ear.
As I watched this take place, I looked from one to another, trying desperately to make sense of what was going on. When I began to trace their features, however, I began to grow aware of a pattern; the two nearly resembled one another, albeit a difference in age and gender.
"I-- 'm sorry," I stuttered slightly, struggling to form a complete thought, "I don't seem to understand."
There was a pause and the servant rose, moving to the other side of his mistress's chair. My gaze remained locked with Lady Eizenstrauss's, however.
She continued, her voice now calm and collected, though laced with a hint of anticipation. "It seems that you are indeed a very gifted individual, after all, Miss Cleyne. Tell me, have you always been able to see things that others couldn't?"
Once more I felt pale and my heart quickened. My eyes shot back to the chain, tracing it again. Had it...shortened!? The length between Lady Eizenstrauss and her servant was now little more than a handful of meters!
"Miss Cleyne?" came Lady Eizenstrauss's voice again, now faintly showing impatience. This seemed to sober me a little.
"I..." the words seemed not to come. No one had ever addressed this aspect of my life so...directly. I had grown too accustomed to having to shelter such instances; to defend them from those who thought them merely childish fancies.
Lady Eizenstrauss's impatience seemed to wane a little upon observing my reaction, leaning back in her chair and putting on a smile that seemed to comprehend my distress. "Slowly, then. Tell me what you've seen."
I drew in a long breath. How to even begin?
"I've..always been able to see...things," I said reluctantly. "Sometimes it would be nothing but a shadow moving where none should or something flitting by my eyes so quickly I couldn't follow it. When I grew older I saw...other, stranger things. I once saw a bird with four eyes perched on the windowsill of my neighbor's second story window. I pointed it out to my father, but he saw nothing. That was the day before she..."
"A whippoorwill," she said knowingly. I glanced at her and noticed she was looking at me still, though with a glazed and thoughtful look. "They say that they are the messengers of one's demise."
I felt a graveness take hold of me. "She...died two days later."
"And now this," she said, taking hold of the chain and curling it through her fingers.
"Is that...not real?"
"It is," she said. I felt a sigh of relief escape my lips. "But it also isn't."
"What do you mean?" I asked plaintively, now more confused than ever. "How can it be both?"
"Because I made it so." This seemed to be going nowhere, and I slowly felt myself beginning to lose my patience with this cryptic being.
She smiled again, this time in a way that felt sympathetic. "Tell me, Miss Cleyne, you are...what? Twenty-five? Thirty?"
"Twenty-seven last winter," I remarked, still a bit incredulous.
She nodded a couple times, and then looked up at me again, "Then, you would recognize that man, would you not?"
A pale finger pointed behind me, and I turned to look, at once beholding a large portrait of a man who did indeed look vaguely familiar. He had a sharp and regal countenance, piercing brown eyes, and a dreamy smile that seemed to sing of wit a charm. It was difficult to forget a face and a figure like that.
"The Cardinal Killer," I said, still gazing at the picture. "I remember attending his execution seven years ago. It was the first time I'd ever seen one done publicly, as well the last time I should hope."
I heard a huff issue forth from behind me and I turned to see that Lady Eizenstrauss's face had turned a shade of scarlet, though she said nothing, and merely squeezed her delicate hands together and let out a breath.
After a moment, she nodded, "Yes. Look again."
I was confused, but I did as I was bidden, carefully examining the portrait again until my eyes settled upon a small golden placard at its base. I squinted to read it and drew a sharp breath. Einen Eizenstrauss, Age 31. The Cardinal Killer was Lady Eizenstrauss's brother?
A shape passed before my gaze and I looked up to see that the servant had come to stand before the picture, his back to me. I was about to politely ask him to move when I heard a sigh echo from his lips, and then he turned to face me.
I was caught then, as if in a trace, and when I finally broke free, I gasped and nearly fell out of the chair. The man before me and the man in the portrait...were the same man! He was paler now, and thinner and his features seemed slightly sunken, but when the very same leering smile twisted on to his lips, I shuddered.
"But...that can't be!" I said in both awe and fear, "You--...Aren't you--?!"
"Dead?" he finished what I could not, his hollow voice ringing in my mind like a bell toll. "Why...yes, I am."