The story kept on revolving about a dead mother, a sister, a mistress. All one.
Now,
Imagine a mother holding her dying son.
Dying not dead.
What would she do to save him? Could anything cost more than this? Nothing close to. Any consequence would be lesser.
What would a mother do?
Protect her Son.
That is what she did. She protected him from and even beat death.
Of course, at a price.
He looked at his Mother's eyes. Innately so bright and fierce. It felt so good to see her, see her alive. She did not looked aged because she had not.
He felt a relief. The burden he had felt loosened.
The Manor was not haunted. He was.
Nothing changed here, because he did not allow it.
He was the ruin of this Manor, his family, his Aunt. His Mother.
The painting did not protect Mum. It protected him. No one repulsed him from the stairs. He was too scared to face the truth, to confront the inside voices. The voices that whispered the truth, maybe some divine soul, even the soul of this Manor, which pained to see his mother suffering for him.
Something struck him. It was so potent, his eyes widened and he could only stare at Emerald wide eyed. Voices, the one he heard, he was not the only one who did. He felt sickened as he twisted his head.
Aunt.
Merlyn was looking down at her long gown. She had worn a purple one, this morning. For her sister. Yes, her name was Emerald, but that name was for her eyes not for the choice of favourite colour. She knew her Sister hated when everyone assumed she liked all shades of green. Her favourite colour was purple. She knew it.
Why was the smoking coming out from her though? No, her purple gown was disappearing in all this haze or vaporizing rather.
Or was it her?
Her eyes frantically searched around for the anchor. "Emy." She croaked.
Emerald eyes whirled to her, Leo was gazing at her too, his eyes anguished as he burned himself.
Her Sister rushed to her, "Lye, sweet Lye, it will be fine. I will fix this, I promise."
Merlyn had wanted this, this warmth, these arms around her for the longest time now. She burrowed, felt like a little girl rocking in those protective arms.
"If that means losing you again," her eyes were leaking, what a shame, she wanted to greet her sister with all smiles, "this seems right, that felt absolute wrong."
Emerald clutched her to her heart, "I am not strong enough. I cannot handle this."
"You have the strength of a Divinity. Wait; are we of the same age now?"
Emerald looked, her face breaking into a smile, "I am still much prettier though."
"You would always be."
"Do not admit that. I still want to have a discussion about that for the rest of our lives."
"Oh," her heart hurt, "never wanted anything more for the longest time now."
"You have gotten more dramatic."
"More than you? Yes, achieved my goal."
She heard a thud.
Leonard hit the floor.
"Leo, Leo, look at me. Look at your Mum."
Leonard had managed to land on his knees. He felt drained. Then he felt hands on his shoulders. Mum.
Time to come; he was glad but envious considering the time constraint.
He crumpled in his mother's arms, his head secure in the crook of her neck. Her hair tickled his cheeks. He did not have to worry about anything. She was here. He can rest now.
"Leo? Sweet, do not fall asleep. You wanted to talk to me, right? I am very insulted, how can you sleep?"
"Mum?"
"Yes?"
"I felt tired. Angry. Yet, fatigued. And now..."
He felt her arms tighter, her tears warm in his own cheeks or was it his?
"Now, it feels complete."
"I will be here Leo."
"A promise?"
I felt her smile, "A promise."
"I do not like this, Mum."
"Me neither, Love, me neither."
"Let me rest up mum, here, I have to travel a long way again without you."
A family. A beautiful one. All families are.
A happy one. No, not every is that.
This one was.
It was all robbed. Accidents, plots and ploys destroyed everything.
A young girl, verge of losing everything, desperate looking for a purchase.
A deal was made with forces beyond, a price was asked and the Girl paid it.
She lost 11 members on a single day including her Sister and Son. One life was not enough for a repayment of 11 souls.
"You are bright one, but that is a number of darkened souls", the voice held no feelings. It was practical. A Dealmaker.
"Please. I want all of them." She made the mistake of saying, "for now."
They nodded, "which are most precious?"
The Girl was baffled. Family. Family.
They tapped his invisible watch, "I will grant you two."
"Two out of eleven you stole?"
They cocked head to one side, "me? I stole nothing. You humans are enough to finish each other. You do not need me. I have much less blood in my hands, thanks to your breed cooperation."
There was a quite in her head. Two. Two. She never had affinity of this particular number, such a small figure, an even number.
"I will grant you all as indicated with the original contract although you were elusive with the number to be resurrected," I expected anger but they were amused. Of course, these things probably were a source of entertainment after living for aeons.
They continued, "However two will live or hope to live in their full potential in exchange of you, the rest will be lead in accordance to my whim."
She chose her son and sister.
For her life, which would be shredded to a mere stagnancy. A portrait as a reminder. The real Accident would be disrupted in the heads of the assigned dead.
And, hence, in memory of the 11 members, only one life was lost- Emerald Willington.
The nine others died in mysterious ways at variant times giving the family and the manor a haunting of its own.
The two lived, as promised.
No one touched the Portrait. Until Leonard Willington did.
He burned it. Him.