by K.N. Lee
His wife refused.
She told him it was unnatural and that only God had the right to decide who should live or die. He loved his wife so much and held her in such high regard that he agreed not to take the elixir, nor to share it with anyone else or to divulge its secrets.
His partner was livid. He could not understand that after over a year of working on this, he was to be denied not only the elixir but also the fame and fortune that came with it. He demanded his half of the elixir and when the old man refused, he smashed up the old man’s house until he found what he was looking for--a single vial of the elixir. He stole it away and was never seen again.
The old man and his family put their house back together and carried on life as before, curing the sick with herbal remedies. That is until The Plague came. It swept through the village at such a speed, felling its inhabitants with no remorse. The old man was busier than ever, trying to help the villagers, but of course there was little he could do. The only cure was the one thing he had promised his wife not to take or to talk about. The inevitable happened. With so many sick villagers calling on the old man, it was only a matter of time before one of his family got sick. His youngest daughter was the first to get the sores. The old man’s wife sat by her youngest daughter’s bedside for three days straight and prayed for a miracle that would never come. Her daughter died of the plague like so many others before her. She was six years old. By the time they buried her tiny body, two of the other children were showing symptoms of the deadly disease.
The old woman had been let down by a God that she could no longer believe in. She asked her husband if he had any of the elixir left. He had managed to hide most of the mixture from his partner’s rampage. There was enough for twenty people.
His wife told their eldest two children to go into the village to gather their aunt, uncle, cousin and family friends as quickly as possible. Within an hour, the small house was packed with people. Twenty people in total.
The old man quickly divulged his secret of eternal life to the assembled party. They had all been living through the hell of the plague for months and the uncertainty of whether they would be spared. Whether it was the fact that they trusted the old man or that they could see his younger two children had days to live at best (and that they were now in extremely close contact with them) I do not know, but I do know that not one person hesitated in taking that elixir.
It had not been tested on humans before and I think even the old man had underestimated its power.
It started to work within seconds. The shock they felt at seeing everybody’s hair lighten as their eyes darkened was obvious in their expressions. It was nothing compared to the feeling that was ripping through their bodies.
Their bones became stronger, their bodies straighter. Muscles blossomed on skinny arms and legs, turning waifs into strongmen and making athletes out of even the frailest of the group. The adults all gained a couple of inches at least and even the children grew in height. The sores that had begun to appear on the children disappeared instantaneously and instead they developed perfect hair and skin. Each member of the group was beautiful. Flawless in every way.
However the elixir worked, it also turned them all into facsimiles of each other. Blue, green, hazel eyes were lost to eyes so dark you could see forever in them and hair had lost all shades of colour. They were all different, but strangely the same. Not only had their looks changed, but they all felt healthy, rejuvenated. The elder members of the group marvelled at how young they felt as the children stood in awe at their new strength.
A party was had, ale and wine were consumed and much merriment was made.
Even before the night was out, the old man began to feel unease at what he had done, but he consoled himself with the fact he had saved the lives of his children, who almost certainly would have died had he not.
Word quickly got out that twenty of the villagers had changed. Some thought that it was some new form of the disease, but when they didn’t become ill or die, the other villagers thought it must be the work of the devil himself. The villagers tried to drive the twenty out, burning down their houses and killing their livestock. Some of the group started to brag that they were invincible and would live forever. Overnight, seven of the group were murdered, five of them in a house fire and the other two had their heads chopped off, whether out of fear or envy, the survivors did not know.
The old man then realised that his elixir did not promise eternal life as he had thought, just eternal youth, or at least a halt to the aging process. It would protect you from disease and old age, it would drastically speed up the healing process and halt time at a cellular level, but it would not keep you alive if your body was damaged beyond repair.
It put the old man in a perilous position. His wife and children were now in danger of, not the plague, but the villagers whom he had spent his life looking after.
He packed his family up and escaped with the others who had taken the elixir.
They travelled on foot for many miles and for many days, until they were safe from the villagers and in a place where they were unknown. They settled in a new town and picked up their lives again, but not before making a pact to never, in any circumstances divulge the secret of why they never aged. They changed their names, each taking a name beginning with A in a gesture of respect to the young daughter who had died of the plague. She had been called Anna.
This group stayed together and moved regularly as not to arouse suspicion. They already looked strange, a group of fourteen people who all looked the same, it was easy to assume they were all family, probably foreign, an assumption that was never challenged by the group. The less people knew of them, the safer they were. The children continued to age normally until they were in their early twenties and then some chemical reaction happened in their bodies, making the elixir first slow, then stop aging altogether.”
“That’s a lovely story,” Anais butted in impatiently, purposely not keeping the sarcasm out of her voice.
“It’s a true story Anais. I’m the youngest daughter.” Aethelu had now got over her nerves and was looking Anais in the eyes. She did not blink but held her stare.
“Uh huh. But in the story the youngest girl died of the plague.” Anais pointed out the flaw in the tale.
“Anna was my little sister. I was fourteen years old when she died. I was the youngest to drink the elixir.”
“Of course you were!” Anais said sarcastically “You’re hundreds of years old and can’t die unless I cut your head off. How exciting for you. Now thanks for the hot chocolate, it was delicious, but if I remember rightly, before story time, you promised I could leave, so I’ll just be on my way.”
Anais had heard plenty of fairy tales growing up, Tales of monsters and princesses, of vampires and heroes, but had never had anyone try to tell her that they were true before.
Aethelu, once more had that stricken look on her face, as if she was willing Anais to believe her. She really does believe her story, thought Anais. She had come across as being so sane, so rational. Anais almost began to feel sorry for her, but now that she knew about Aethelu’s delusions, Anais worried she would not be allowed to leave after all. She readied herself to sprint towards the door, trying to think of a way to distract Aethelu so she could make a dash for it.
Just then Anais heard footsteps behind her. A man was walking down the stairs. He couldn’t have been much older than Anais, but he was dressed like a character from a Dickens novel. His chestnut hair was neatly parted to the side with a bit of a curl and sideburns. A small goatee decorated his chin. He was wearing a long tailored jacket in dark grey with a waistcoat in the same material underneath. He wore pointed black shoes on his feet and carried a black cane topped with the silver head of a lion. He was equally as beautiful as Aethelu, but had a hardness to his face, which was not helped by the sneering expression on his face.
“Aethelu.” he nodded at her as a welcome and then turned his attention to Anais. “And this must b
e our little captive. Raphael.” He introduced himself. So this was one of Aethelu’s brothers, one of the twins.
He walked over to Anais and held out his hand, which she took to shake. She wasn’t expecting him to bend over and kiss the back of her hand. It was such an old-fashioned gesture and she was acutely aware, she was meeting this beautiful man wearing Pyjamas, men’s pyjamas at that. His whole demeanour, combined with his natural beauty, made Anais nervous.
“Charmed,” he never took his eyes from Anais as he bent for the kiss. He had the same black irises as Aethelu, but without the light flecks. Anais felt uncomfortable and was glad when he turned his attention back to Aethelu.
“Now dearest sister, Why is she here?”
He talked right over Anais as if she wasn’t in the room, as if kissing her hand just seconds ago had never happened.
Aethelu coloured.
“She wanted to leave.” her eyes looked down, as if she was ashamed.
“She wanted to leave,” Rafe repeated. It was not a question. The corners of his mouth rose in what was supposed to be a smile, but to Anais looked like a sneer.
“So your plan was to give her hot chocolate and let her go?”
“No, I told her the truth.” Aethelu still didn’t look up and her voice was barely more than a murmur.
“Mmmm.” He once again looked at Anais and her feeling of unease increased. “Let me guess, she didn’t believe you?”
“Not yet but...”
“Did you believe it?” Anais could see he was addressing her, but she didn’t know how she was supposed to answer him. Of course, she didn’t believe it. It was ridiculous, but at the same time, however misguided it might be, she felt a strange sense of loyalty to Aethelu. She was also beginning to dislike this older brother, who was doing nothing short of bullying his younger sister.
“No, Aethelu, she did not.” He saved her from having to answer by answering the question himself. “Pass me a knife.” He held out his hand.
“Aethelu, pass me a knife,” repeated Raphael loudly. Aethelu obviously had thought he was still talking to Anais, but when she realised he was talking to her, she slowly handed him the nearest knife. It was an ordinary serrated bread knife that had been left out on the table.
He held it up, doffed an imaginary hat to Anais and then slit his own throat. Not just a scratch, but a big deep gash. Blood spurted out over the table and splattered Anais.
She screamed at the horror of what had just happened and drew herself back in a panic, not knowing what to do. He still stood there, looking at her through those black eyes and with a curious expression of mirth. Anais was now in a full blown panic. She’d done a first aid course in the past, but no amount of training would save Raphael’s life with such tremendous blood loss.
Anais estimated that he had minutes left to live, if that. She ran to get a cloth, anything to stem the bleeding. The only thing she could see was a tea towel which said “I’m the chef” on it. She picked it up and ran back to Raphael, past Aethelu who hadn’t moved and had a look of horror frozen onto her face. Holding the cloth as hard as she could to the three inch wide cut on Raphael’s neck, Anais looked at his face. He was calm and still smiling. He was not showing any reaction to the fact that his blood was now decorating the kitchen.
Anais wondered if he had gone into shock, but he was so pale before, it was hard to tell if the blood loss had drained him of colour.
“Thank you, Anais.” He looked at her with an expression of amusement, which caught Anais off guard.
“How the hell can you talk? How the hell are you still standing? Sit down, let me call an ambulance.”
“No need.” Raphael said, as he calmly moved the now red tea towel away from himself and then used it to wipe around his neck.
The cut had vanished completely.
Anais heart was performing drum and bass in her chest, and she was struggling to get air into her lungs. She was hyperventilating, and she knew if she didn’t manage to get her breathing under control she would faint.
It was too late, blackness enveloped her and the last thing she felt as her legs buckled beneath her, was Aethelu’s arms reaching out to catch her.
Chapter 6
Anais woke minutes later to find her head in Aethelu’s lap and being fanned with what looked like a flyer from a local pizza company. Aethelu’s arms and neck were coated in congealing blood that had splattered her, and her hair matted together in great red clumps, silver blond stained pink.
Raphael stood over her, and Anais could see his neck clearly. The blood there was dark red, already old. There was not a drop of fresh oxygenated blood there at all. No cut or scar where there had been a gaping wound, just a faint silver line where the knife had cut the skin and the smears where Raphael had clumsily wiped the cut.
He looked like something out of a cheesy horror movie, red, ghastly from all the blood, but this was no tomato ketchup fake movie scene. It was real. Anais felt the horror of the moment slowly begin to pass, but the reality of the last five minutes, Aethelu’s story, was more horrific than anything else.
“It’s true!” She put her hands up to touch the silver line on Raphael’s neck, but Aethelu grabbed her hand.
“Yes it’s true. I’m sorry you had to find out that way.” Aethelu shot Raphael a look that clearly meant ‘go away!’
He took the hint and headed back up the spiral staircase, but not before apologising to Anais.
“I’m dreadfully sorry that I had to do that to you, but you’ve got to admit it was effective.”
Anais had just got over the shock of Raphael when the back door to the house opened and a man who looked to be in his late twenties shuffled through. A flurry of snow followed, swirling prettily around his head until he kicked the door closed and the flakes fell to the ground. He was a giant of a man with his big fur-lined coat and hat only adding to his bearlike frame. She recognised him as the Rook from her game of chess. Anais couldn’t see his hair under his hat, but he had a big bushy beard, the same silver blond as Aethelu’s hair, which looked like it could do with a long overdue trim. His eyes had the same, now familiar, black sparkle. His massive arms were as thick as the logs he was carrying and his shoulders and hat were flaked in fresh snow.
He seemed momentarily surprised at the scene awaiting him in the kitchen, but he quickly dropped the logs and ran over to the blood-drenched pair on the tiled floor.
“It’s ok, August, the blood is Raphael’s – she just fainted at the sight of it. I think she’s ok. I caught her before she hit the floor. She’s just in shock, that’s all.”
“What the hell happened?” His voice, full of concern was deep and somewhat gruff.
“I told Anais about us. She didn’t believe me. Rafe came in and thought it was a good idea to prove the story.”
August rolled his eyes “Don’t tell me, I can guess the rest.”
“Yup, I’m going to kill him.”
“Not if I get to him first, look at the state of this kitchen.”
“I thought the whole point is you can’t kill him.” It was a feeble joke and Anais knew it.
“I guess you must be feeling better,” smiled Aethelu.
August grabbed Anais with his mitten-clad hands and lifted her to her feet, before turning to Aethelu and doing the same for her.
This is August, He’s my biggest brother. August, you already know Anais,
“Pleased to meet you.” His voice was as big as he was and boomed out.
He held out his hand and Anais shook it. Up close Anais could see his eyes crinkled up at the edges when he smiled and she could still see snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes. He was at least a foot taller than Anais so she had to look up to meet his friendly gaze.
“Likewise.” she answered, still in a daze, but instantly liking this bear man.
“Why don’t you guys get yourselves cleaned up, and I’ll mop up in here. What a ruddy mess.” He tutted to himself and went to fetch a mop.
Aethelu gr
abbed Anais’ arm and guided her back up the spiral staircase to the main house. They didn’t see anyone else as they ascended the grand staircase. This time, however, they turned in a different direction, down a corridor that Anais had not been down before. They walked the full length of the well-lit corridor and took the third door on the right. It opened out into a room, the likes of which Anais had never seen before. Plush red carpet covered the floor matching the heavy red fabric that adorned a massive four-poster bed that dominated the room, its only occupant a big white teddy bear. The luxurious duvet was half on the bed, its other half on the floor as if someone had got out of bed quickly and taken the duvet partly with them. There were piles of clothes, all red in colour, strewn in messy piles all over the floor and over the backs of velvet covered chairs.
Directly opposite the bed was a vanity table with various makeup bottles with no lids, a nail varnish brush had been put, still wet onto the white table and had dried, sticking there permanently. Clothes, also, had been piled on one side of the table, along with books and papers, some of which had the same nail varnish as the stuck-on lid.
The room would have been the most beautiful room Anais had ever been in if it hadn’t been so messy. The walls were covered in white wallpaper with what looked like hand-drawn flowers and birds in vivid scarlets and pinks. It was very similar in design to her wallpaper at Winnie’s.
The room was finished off with yet another crystal chandelier and this, at least, did not have anything strewn over it.
There was another door leading off from the bedroom and this is where Aethelu was now headed, picking around the messes on the floor like a navigator sailing through islands and rocks for safe passage.
“Sorry about the mess,” Aethelu said, “I didn’t expect you to see this room today. I’d have tidied up if I’d have known.”
Anais was surprised to find that Aethelu was blushing. That, coupled with the matted blood all over her and the red dress meant that she was threatening to just blend into the background like an army soldier in camouflage. All the red was making Anais think of the kitchen again and her head once again began to spin. Aethelu noticed her this time and put her arm around her waist to help her through the door. Anais found herself in a pleasantly white ensuite bathroom, the only red being a couple of soggy towels that had been left on the floor. Aethelu hurried to pick them up turning pinker by the minute.