Chapter 1 – My Own Family would be Enough
She stared as the flames engulfed the nameless figure. In a whisper they began to gracefully dance across the top of his hair, licking at the strands as they floated in the hot air. The flames started radiating outward from the centre of his cranium, his strands of hair crackling softly. A cascading wave of warmth and light descended outwards to the tips of his outstretched fingers. Suddenly, the figure’s hair glows burning red as the flames consume it. Colours continued to burn through the spectrum, purple, blue and green flames interweaving as sparks scattered upwards like tiny, luminous insects. As the fire ate its way inward,
New layers ignited, adding to the growing spectacle. The smoke, once thin wisps, now thickened and rose in a majestic column as the heat intensified with each descending layer of flame. The unexpected sweet, earthy scent of burning wood filled the air as the shape of the once solid man inside, now began to change. As his edges softened the light deepened, casting a warm, dancing glow over the onlookers’ faces. Their eyes reflecting the mesmerising descent of the flames. It was a fire being born from the heavens, slowly embracing the body below.
The sibilant whispers chanting in the background sent fearful shivers down Elara’s spine. She could not see the man’s face until he turns toward her—he was smiling ecstatically, his entire being jerking before disappearing into the raging furnace he had become. Despite her intense fear and confusion, Elara felt sympathy for the pain and suffering in front of her as she desperately tried to understand. How sick would a person need to be to smile whilst being consumed by fire? After what felt like an eternity, she finally moved, blinking back tears as she bolted across the rocks and into the night.
Elara jolted awake, heart hammering. Her ragged breath betrayed the nightmare’s icy grip—terror swiftly shifted to confusion as she tried, yet again, to place the unknown man she had seen burn every night for weeks. She wondered what hellish roots must have resided within her to see such horror in her sleep. These recurring nightmares grew more intense with each visitation to this world of flame and stone and yet she found nothing familiar about the man, the place, or the voices echoing in her mind. Desperation gnawed at her, anxiety rising at what these visions might mean for her family. Panic spiked as whispering voices curled around her, feeding her terror until she trembled violently and a strangled shriek escaped her. Realising what she has done, Elara quickly clamped her hands over her mouth, frantic not to wake her family and draw them into her nightmare. Why was the fear of this unfamiliar man so intense? Watching his suffering was horrifying, but what truly bewildered Elara was her emotional connection—this fear felt borrowed, as if it belonged to someone else. The sensation made no sense to her, deepening her confusion.
Scrambling to find reality, Elara sat up and looked around her. She recognised she was safe in her bedchamber, a room shared by five other people. Elara checked to see if her nightmares had woken anyone else.
“Luckily no-one seems to have noticed my nonsense” she whispered to the black and white pup curled tightly into her stomach. Relnar dropped a light lick to Elara’s nose in reply.
“Are you whispering with Relnar again?” a tired voice called out. “You know Julian forces me into the stables most days. I need my sleep!”
“Zack! I… I… didn’t know you were awake.” Elara’s cheeks burned.
“Just mind your own business for once” her volume rose as she continued.
“You wouldn’t have to keep working in the stables if you would learn your place for once.” She lowered her face into Relnars fur, stomach turning in knots, knowing she was out of order. Her brother’s punishments had nothing to do with his errors; coming from their uncle’s fits of pique.
“Don’t shout Elk, just go to sleep before you wake up the adults.” Zack rolled over and soon loud snoring could be heard rumbling around the bedchamber.
The room Elara shared with the rest of her family and their familiars was modest and functional. The plastered walls were aged, and the small windows had sturdy shutters specifically designed to keep out the light. They were locked from the outside each night. In the centre of the room sat a table and some chests holding the Clan’s main possessions whilst at the foot of each straw bed and cot, lay a small chest for individual belongings. Elara’s held her treasured best clothes and scraps of parchment where she transcribed her stories.
Despite the crowded conditions, the chamber offered a sense of warmth and refuge from the harsh realities of life in the manor. A life of control and fear of Lord and Master of the Manor, Julian and his faithful steward Henry. It was a testament to the close-knit women and their shared existence.
The room was used by almost all of Clan Blackwood: Elara’s mother Rebekkah, Aunt Alyson, brother Zachary, and her grandmother, Granny Maude. A pack of dogs, the family’s familiars, also shared this space. All the women of the family had their own familiars, whose fur matched their human’s hair, each a unique breed. A dalmatian, wolfhound, border collie, and the newest member, a miniature schnauzer, made up the pack, to Zack’s chagrin. He still awaited his own familiar. Not a day goes by without him mentioning that he lacked a dog, a special friend, unlike ‘everyone else in the family,’ as he often bemoaned to anyone who would listen.
Alyson’s hair, dappled black and white, matched her dalmatian. Rebekkah and Elara each had patchy black and white hair, with Elara’s split almost evenly, mirroring their border collie and schnauzer. To Elara, the Clan’s defining feature was their hair: always black and white, unless strong emotions triggered wild, rippling colours. When that happened, the whole room lit up.
It had never occurred to Elara that it was a strange thing to share a sleeping chamber with almost all her family. Many villagers lived this way; what stood out to Elara, now that she was older, was that Granny Maude, her own grandmother and the true leader of the village, also slept in this crowded room, while Uncle Julian, married to Aunt Alyson and not of their blood, took a lavish chamber for himself. This bothered Elara more the older she got. With new freedoms like running errands or practising storytelling alone, Elara has begun to question the strangeness of her life and why things are done as they are. The chance to think for herself was both liberating and unsettling.
Elara stared at the peeling walls. Why did Julian take so many advantages? After all he’s only married to Granny’s daughter Alyson, he was not her son by blood.
Why is he so vile to everyone?
More importantly, why does no one object?
Why, when Aunt Alyson goes to bed with Uncle Julian, would they wake to find her returned to their chamber? Elara scans the unusually bright room. This room belongs to the most prominent members of the clan. Why is their room so bare while Julian resides in more opulent lodgings? Elara supposed their shared bedchamber was comfortable enough with woven blankets and furs. None of this sits well, but she doesn’t know any better.
Elara was beginning to realise that there was an undercurrent of control and fear that she had always accepted as the norm. She had been dutiful in a fight to protect herself from Julian’s rage and urged Zack to do the same. Zack of course did not understand. He rebelled against Julian’s tyranny and repeatedly felt the consequences. Until recently, Elara had never felt brave enough, to challenge Julian outright. However, now she was realising that this had been cowardice and she no longer wanted that path. The restrictions and casual cruelty her eyes were now opening to were enough to startle her from the sleepwalking existence she had been living.
Elara’s gaze fell on Granny’s aura — once a fierce gold and red — now a faded orange glow flickering weakly. Elara’s chest tightened with fear. Across the room, vivid auras warmed her family’s dreams, making Granny’s pallor ache in her heart. To Elara, Granny had always appeared youthful, a powerhouse even, but now as she watched Granny’s aura and physical will weaken each night, she was overcome with uncertainty.
Elara stretched out of bed and silently paced the chamber, still deep in thought. She had always trusted dreams to speak through aura colour: soft blue for peace, orange for conflict and deep red for war. Those colours had always been her compass: bright, true, and brimming with emotion. Even Zack had an aura at night, although his was faint. Julian explained this was due to “young Zackary’s age.” Julian’s aura on the other hand, was always unreadable—a smoky black colour, empty and emotionless.
Her younger brother Zack rolled over, fumbling around for his fallen blanket in a half sleep state. His sleep was odd; his aura flashed erratically, and he muttered as if in conversation. Elara moved to his bedside, picked up the blanket, and covered her brother lovingly. Though she’d never admit it, he was her favourite human, even if he as the most irritating member of the clan
Elara turns away, anxiety for Granny growing stronger. She wonders what was causing Granny’s aura to weaken each night, concern mounted with each observation. Determined to find answers, Elara felt the urgency of Granny’s dwindling strength—a warning she could not afford to ignore.
Relnar padded over to Elara and nuzzled her hand, jumping up to reach her. Being small, even for a miniature schnauzer, Relnar struggled to reach his human like the other familiars. He looked like a permanent puppy, with huge eyes, long lashes, and a mischievous grin on his muzzle. As the youngest of the pack, he always brought up the rear, trying to keep up with the ‘big’ dogs. Bear was the largest and oldest of the pack—Granny Maude’s wolfhound. Despite his size, Bear was a gentle giant. Then comes Alyson’s dalmatian Luna, who was aloof but caring once she was comfortable, always searching for another biscuit. Finally, Skye the border collie was the most organised and the secret leader of the pack. Officially, Bear was leader for being oldest, but in practice, Skye decided what the pack did, when, and how.
The familiars curled up with their humans, merging into single shapes under blankets. Even their fur rippled with the colours of their human’s nighttime auras, when they physically touched while asleep, reflecting their deep bond.
Finally, Elara settled back into her straw-filled mattress, hung between the bed beams. She leaned back against her bolster and cuddled up to Relnar.
“I don’t know what to do for the best. I don’t know if I should say anything to Mum, or even Granny herself.” Relnar gently squeaked back as if in answer.
“No. I can’t talk to Julian, he makes my skin crawl, the way he has been looking at me lately is odd. He would make a huge fuss, and somehow it would be my fault, or worse, Zack’s. I can’t bear to see Julian hurt him again. Always over nothing, too.” She laid there restless, worrying into the early hours.
“One day I will escape this manor and start a family of my own. A happy family home, not one with the secrets and backstabbing we have here. Even if it’s only a farm house; I have no use for a grand manor. Although, I would miss Cook something terrible. No, just my own family would be enough.” Relnar snuggled up closer at this happy vision of the future, tail moving gently beneath the blanket, Elara at last relaxed and finally drifted back off to sleep.