Memories

Charles felt the powerful animal beneath him slow down until it stopped, the horse’s breath coming out in heaving plumes. He pulled back on the reigns, his arm muscles straining with the effort, and called out a bold, “Whoa!”

Emelia and Leon screeched to a stop behind them, dust billowing up in a cloud. Leon’s eyes scanned the area, looking for any clues that something was amiss. With a voice full of curiosity, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Charles dismounted his horse, and the animal whinnied, pawing at the ground nervously. He patted its neck soothingly, then set off towards the manor. The old brick building stood out starkly in the middle of the field, its ivy-covered walls draped with moss as if trying to blend in with the surrounding countryside.

Leon took in the yawning silence as he stepped through the front door. Streams of pale sunlight illuminated motes of dust as they drifted through the abandoned hall. Cobwebs stretched across the arched entrance, and the parquet floor was a mosaic of dirt and debris. As he ventured further into the gallery, he breathed in the musty air, noticing the sun-bleached walls, a dilapidated grand piano, moth-eaten curtains, and furniture cloaked in sheets. “Looks like nobody has been here in years,” he murmured before turning and stepping back outside. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as he imagined how grand the house was in its heyday.

Charles lingered in front of the decrepit house, its once grand exterior marred by peeling paint and overgrown weeds, “Your grandmother passed away not long after you were taken. We just...” his voice trailed off as he gazed up at the house, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We couldn’t bring ourselves to come back here.”

Emelia peered through the window, but the curtains were tightly drawn. As she stared into the glass, a memory began to take shape. She could almost see a woman standing in the window; her hands clasped lightly in front of her. Sunlight cascaded over her skin and framed her figure. But no matter how hard Emelia tried, she couldn’t make out the woman’s face. A chill danced across Emelia’s face as she tilted her head back to the sky, inhaling a breath of winter. She pivoted, squinting towards the grassy yard, withered and colorless. It seemed barren compared to the vibrant flowers that had once bloomed in the same place. With each step, she imagined the petals of wildflowers caressing her ankles as she made her way to the dirt road that lay beyond. Mesmerized, her gaze followed its route until it ended at the edge of a shadowy forest. A few moments passed as Emelia absorbed the stillness.

Across the rolling meadow, Charles and Leon stood outside the house, their eyes trained on Emelia. As a hawk circles high above its prey, the King eyed Leon with the same focus. “And who might you be to my daughter?” Charles demanded, his voice powerful.

Leon paused, his lips upturned at the memory of Emelia saying yes to his marriage proposal. A softness came over his face as he said, “I’m her fiancé,” with pride and a smile that illuminated with joy.

Charles leaned forward in astonishment, the concern on his face making the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent. “You let your fiancé march off and fight on the battlefield?” he asked incredulously.

Leon’s eyes twinkled with amusement. His lips curved into a half-smile as he shook his head. “Let her? One thing you need to learn about Emelia,” he said, “Once she sets her mind to something, it’s like trying to stop a force of nature.”

Leon’s shoulders tensed as the unmistakable sound of hooves grew in intensity. He reached for the hilt of his sword, but Charles put his hands firmly on Leon’s shoulders and whispered, “It’s only my wife, Queen Nina.” He looked straight into Leon’s eyes and gave him a reassuring nod.

Emelia stood frozen in the middle of the dirt road, her face pale and her hands trembling. The sound of the horse’s hooves thudding on the ground and getting louder with each step echoed in her ears. Fear surged through her veins as pictures of past trauma filled her mind, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest. She didn’t know what to do next, so she just stood there, waiting for the rider to reach her.

The rider, a woman in her fifties, slowly approached Emelia. Long strands of wooly black hair hung loosely from her hairline and were pressed against the sides of her round cheeks, the result of long hours on horseback. Her skin shimmered a deep cocoa brown in the afternoon sun, adding to her beautiful features. As she dismounted and grew closer, Emelia could see that she bore a striking resemblance to the woman.

The woman’s dark brown eyes were swollen from tears that threatened to spill over. Her voice trembled as she spoke a name that sounded like a plea, “Sarah...” Emelia stepped back, feeling the weight of her memories. A wave of recognition flooded her mind. It was true that this woman was the cook in that home. She remembered the smell of freshly-baked cookies that used to linger in the air and the sound of this woman singing lullabies as she tucked her into bed. She was indeed the one calling her name when she was taken away. So many images and feelings swirled around Emelia, overwhelming her. All her memories began to trickle back through her mind as if they were locked away behind a door, and this woman’s voice was the key, forcing it open no matter how much Emelia resisted.

Emelia’s voice cracked as she spoke, her eyes widening with disbelief and pain. Vivid memories of the past swirled in her mind like a storm of emotions. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring the vision of the figure before her, “M-mom?”

Queen Nina enveloped her daughter in a tight hug, and Emelia felt the warmth of her mother’s embrace. Queen Nina’s voice trembled as she spoke, and tears rolled down her cheeks as her voice cracked with emotion. “Oh, Sarah! We’ve missed you so much.”

Charles and Leon stood side by side and watched silently as the two women embraced. Tears streamed down Charles’ cheeks, and his face lit up with joy when he said, “She came back to us, Nina.”

Emelia’s gaze lingered on her father’s face. The years had been kind, but the wrinkles around his eyes were more profound than she remembered. Memories of fairy tales read before bedtime brought a stinging sensation to her eyes, and she felt a tight knot in her stomach. She stepped forward and saw the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and the sparkle in his eyes. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and said softly, “Hi, Dad.”

Charles opened his arms wide, and Emelia stepped into them. He pulled her close and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Welcome home, Sarah,” he murmured into her hair.