Chereads / Blood, Wolves, and Death / Chapter 17 - How can I be... me? (Issola’s backstory 1)

Chapter 17 - How can I be... me? (Issola’s backstory 1)

Cold winds blew past my face, as we walked down the mountain. As if the winter had not yet given up, or this was its last ditch effort at marking its presence. My face pale, my lips numb and immovable. I couldn't imagine how bad it must be for the others.

The survivors stuck close behind us. Whatever belongings they could recover, they carried in large bags, on their backs and in their arms. Lanterns held out to provide us with some sort of vision, their light seemed to barely show us a rock a metre away.

In this storm where you couldnt even rely on your vision, neither your hearing. I was left, indulging in my own thoughts.

These cold, dark moments where I was left to my own devices, were more terrifying that the monsters themselves.

I don't know what I was doing anymore, everyday I trained and suffered from the memories of their deaths. Everyday it seemed like my purpose became less and less clear. I want to help them. I want to make things better... But how? I can't just go... find a werewolf, and kill it. I'm 18 and it's just me. Not an army of well trained warriors, just one boy.

I didn't even know where they were, let alone how many of them there even are. It seemed that I still hadn't moved on from self doubt. Even in these 2 years where I felt stronger than ever.

"Fuck".

We found a cave to rest at. The storm still not letting up. We made a fire to keep ourselves warm. Some of the refugees had accompanied us. Issola distributed some food to them. The children stayed in their mothers' arms, some crouching down in the corners.

Scott leaned against the rocky wall.

I never one saw him let his guard down; let himself get carried away. It's as if he were waiting for something, like he knew that the moment he let go, something, which he would forever regret, would happen.

A hand reached out to me, a piece of bread held within its grip, "eat something, you look terrible".

She sat beside me.

She laughed as she always did. Issola always had a smile on her face. I don't know if it was to keep those around her calm, or just to keep herself sane. But it didn't really matter. As long as you had someone who'd look and smile towards you. Nothing else mattered. I remembered mother.

A few hours passed, the storm started to die down somewhat.

"The storm's about to end, shall we get some firewood?", she stood up.

I followed behind her.

We walked and walked, the dead of night, and a full moon that looked past parted clouds.

I found myself beside a long river. Crouching down, I saw my reflection in the ice. I had grown so much on the outside. I was barely recognisable. Who even am I anymore?

"You always have this expression of doubt, while you look off into space", she stood near me, looking down into the same icy water. "Why can't you just let yourself go, there was nothing you could do. You're not some hero".

Her face constricted, she walked away.

I continued to look aimlessly.

Finally standing up, I caught up to Issola, she was looking up into the sky. The scene looked magical, Asif a fairy had descended and was looking up, back towards her home.

"You remember what I told you before? How I was some rich, stuck-up brat who just happened to be born into a noble family? How I was sooooo lucky to have the opportunities that I had?", she looked angry, fed up, frustrated. Her eyes wet and cloudy. "Ugh... nothing is easy, it was never meant to be easy, and yet you just keep letting yourself wallow in self regret. I hate... you, you're the very thing I despise, someone who I'd never allow myself to associate with. You remind me... of myself...".

She leaned back against a tree, falling down to the cold, icy floor.

"My father wanted me to be the perfect embodiment of a women, noble, pure, refined. And yet... I was none of those. I simply allowed myself to be pushed around, let others tell me what to do. And at the end of the day, when I returned to my room... I'd cry. But I never did anything about it", her eyes buried in her hands, she continued:

- - - - -

"Isn't Miss Issola so beautiful today, she was engaged to the Earl Segwall's son, no?", an old maid gossiped with 2 others. Her hand covering her mouth as she spoke.

A younger Issola, walked through the halls of the mansion. Her figure poise and bold. Almost unrecognisable to the one we all knew. The maids corrected themselves, falling in line as they greeted her.

Issola simply kept walking.

Finding herself stood in front of 2 large doors, she looked to the butler, positioned to the side.

The man knocked on the door, "Viscount Julius, Miss Issola is requesting permission to enter".

"Let her in", a grumbly and old voice came from inside the room.

Issola entered gracefully, taking a seat on one of the sofas, her father on the other hand still remained at his desk, albeit now standing up.

"You may leave the room, Ferdinand", he spoke.

"Yes, Sir".

Viscount Julius, Issola's father, looked out the window. He stared at the horse carriages passing by. He looked at the blue sky. He looked anywhere but, at his daughter.

Her mother had passed away when she was only 5. Her memories of her were blurry, yet she found comfort in them.

"Issola, I heard you have been skipping dance practice", he said slowly and softly.

"I'm sorry, fath-".

"SORRY, isn't enough Issola", Issola flinched, cowering in her seat. "I can't be having you cast disgrace on our family. What if this were to get out? What if this reached the ears of other nobles? That the Viscount's daughter is an irresponsible, little, brat? What would you do, if you were to fall during a ball? I would be laughed at... shunned for raising such a daughter".

He looked back, finally staring Issola in the eyes, "You wouldn't want father's hard work going to waste, now would you? After all the effort, the sweat and blood I have shed. I did this for us Issola. I do this for you".

"Earl Segwall has invited us to a ball that he will be hosting in a month, you may go". He returned to his desk, opening up a file to do some paper work.

Issola shook as she stood up, taking in a deep breath, she regained her composure. Walking out the room, she looked back once more, before the doors finally shut.