Fifteen Years Later
"Princess!"
"Dad, I'm too old for you to call me that."
"Won't you let an old man call his daughter by her nickname?" The greying man called from the kitchen entryway.
Serena rolled her eyes as she dropped her duffle bag on the tiled entryway floor.
"Fine. Just this once. For old times' sake. It's been a long time since I've been here."
Her eyes soaked in the surroundings as she inhaled deeply. The smell of cedar brought a wave of comfort and memories of childhood vacations. She traced her long, thin fingers along the wood panels, worn from years of wear and tear.
"Can you help me in the kitchen?" The deep voice called, snapping her back to the present.
"I'll be right there!"
The kitchen was cozy, and fit with all the necessities. The wood stove was primitive but was always a treat to have on cold nights.
"Chop the carrots for me, please"
"Yes, sir" Serena replied with a half solute, her father rolled his eyes and went back to his task.
The sound of chopping carrots and the cracking of wood filled the silence leaving the two in peace. Eventually, Serena broke the still.
"It's been a long time since we were here last…" She stopped chopping and set the knife down. "Not since- "
"Not since your mother died, yes" Her father finished, looking up from the pot on the stove. His blue eyes were wet.
"Daddy…" Serena called softly as she turned to hug him tightly. The man buried his face into his daughter's shoulder and let out a heavy breath. The tears began to flow and the two stayed there for a long time.
"Serena?"
"Yes?"
The man was quiet. As though he was pondering whether to ask.
"Yes?" She repeated.
"After dinner, would you be so kind as to go for a walk down to the lake with your old man?"
"Yeah, sure. Just don't do anything stupid like you did when I was a kid. I don't want to end up in the lake. Did not come prepared for that."
The man chuckled and sighed.
"What did you think I was going to say?"
"Not really sure, just figured it was going to be something weird in the basement."
"No. Not something weird in the basement today. I have you the whole weekend. Still have plenty of time for that."
The two laughed as they continued preparing dinner.
After dinner, they went down a small path beside the house leading to the lake. The house had been in the family for generations. But as her father had a job in the city hours away, the family had spent only long weekends or holidays on the property. It was the only thing that her father treasured as much as his family.
The sun still had time to set, as it was summer, but the anxiety from tales told about the woods still rose to the front. She quickened her pace toward the open shore of the lake.
"Serena, slow down. I am not in my prime anymore."
She sighed and stopped walking. Turning around to face her father who was trying to avoid all the roots sticking out of the ground. Once he caught up, they continued their way. The two spent the rest of the evening at the shore, soaking in the sun and the smell of fresh water and trees before heading back for the night.
"After dinner tomorrow, I need to tell you a bit more about the family history. Would you listen to me if I told you?" The man asked as they reached the front porch. Serena paused, holding open the screen door.
"Yes, why wouldn't I listen to you?"
The man furrowed his brows and walked into the cabin.
"No reason…" He mumbled.
The day came and went and soon it was dinner time. The two lounged on the back porch with their sandwiches laughing about some old memories and catching up on all things new.
"Let me take your plate, Dad."
"Okay. Meet me in the basement when you're finished."
"Okay?" Serena said, looking at her dad, puzzled. "Why does he always do this to me…" She mumbled on her way to the kitchen.
The man unlocked the door leading downstairs and descended. After a few moments, Serena followed suit. The old, rickety wood stairs led Serena into a cool, stone cellar. The cellar was filled with rugs, dressers, chests, books, and boxes of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Serena trailed her fingers along the rugs and wood dressers. Taking in all the patterns, smells, and textures. Eventually, she made her way through the maze of history to her father.
He was leaning against the stone by the most beautiful chest she had seen in the basement. Adorned with black metal hinges and patterns fitting the edges. The deep cherry wood complimented the features. A symbol of a wolf was in the middle.
"Remember that night, when you were a little girl, and you called me to your room to tell me there were eyes looking through your window?"
"Yes. You told me about the two clans from long ago that lived in the area. Does that have something to do with that chest or why you brought me down here?"
"Perceptive as always, Serena." He smiled and ran his hand along the smooth wood. "You are part of the first clan. The clan that inherited the gift from the chest. Just like me, my father, and his father."
"Okay… I'll bite. What exactly did we inherit?" Serena said as she leaned against rugs and a dresser opposite him, crossing her arm across her chest.
"Let me show you." Her father moved in front of the chest and grabbed a key from his pocket. It was rusted but beautiful regardless. He inserted it into the wolf's head and the lid made a popping noise. He opened the lid and pulled out a fur pelt. The chest was full of them. All different sizes, colors, and patterns. Some were dark and solid, others were grey and brown spotted.
Serena slowly made her way to the chest and reached in. Feeling the soft furs and examining each one carefully. No fur follicle was unnoticed.
"I won't be here much longer."
Serena whipped from the chest to her father who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and face toward the floor.
"What are you talking about?" Her voice cracked, challenging her father to keep going. To break her heart.
"I have almost reached 60. People in this clan don't live much longer than that. We are hunted. Hunted by the clan that inherited from the moon and the hunter association. And if that doesn't get us, they will." The man gestured to the chest of furs.
"The what? Hunter association? Who are they?" Her voice grew louder with each word. Desperation filled each syllable.
"I hoped to have this conversation sooner, but you need to sit for a minute and let me speak without interrupting me. Can you do that?" The man pleaded.
Serena nodded and directed her eyes toward the floor.
"Thank you. I need to tell you the truth about your mother's death."