THE DUTCHESS OF WHINGSIRE

The night was exceptionally dark, there were no stars in the sky and the moon was hidden behind the dark and grim clouds. Sherolanda sat on the window sill in her room and stared longingly at the sky. Over the past few summer months, she had gotten very used to the ever clear sky with no clouds in sight. For as long as she could remember, the moon was her only true companion, sure she had a human best friend, but the moon was the only companion she trusted wholeheartedly. It would always be there no matter what. Unlike people, it would never hurt—it could never hurt her. But she had forgotten that even if it never left it could be covered up, clouds like those in the sky right at that moment could swoop in and take all her light away. "I wish I was strong enough to move the clouds away with a single thought," she whispered. "That way, nothing would cover up the moon ever again". "I know you're here even though I can't see you, and that hurts my heart immensely. Let me give you a run-down of my day. Today was as good as any other day, absolutely horrible. I went down the mountain to sell some charcoal, the weather is getting cloudy and cold — the perfect time to make some profit with the charcoal before other people catch up, and it actually worked. I made a lot of extra cash, sure they were all lower currency paper notes, but it's still something. But... my parents took most of it." Her voice took a slightly sharp edge at this point, but it was so subtle that even she didn't realize it. "It's kinda funny, there I was dreaming of all the pills I could buy. Just thinking of my train of thought makes me laugh!" And she actually did laugh, but her laughter contained more than just subtle hints of sadness. "But don't worry yourself moon, I'm way smarter now," she grinned mischievously. "I gave only half. It's suspicious that my mother believed my little fraud. I really feel like something is about to happen." Just as she finished her words, her door was kicked open, it smacked against the wall so hard that a loud bang echoed through the entire house. Sherry flinched at the sound and turned towards the intruder, standing at the door, hands on hip, was none other than her big sister, Camille. "SIGH," Sherolanda couldn't stop herself from sighing under her breath. She could feel the danger approaching but for the first time in her life... she DIDN'T care. Camille spared her only a glance before she started rummaging through her very sparse belongings. Sherry just watched with partly dead eyes. She turned her face back to the sky and wondered what Camille was searching for. "Probably money," she muttered, then prayed Camille hadn't heard. A minute passed before she turned back to watch her sister, and when she did her eyes widened with fright and anxiety. Before she could even process her thoughts, her mouth already started to fire out the words, "Sister dear, what are you looking for? Maybe I could be of use? Firstly, whatever you're looking for definitely isn't under there," she said as she gently tugged Camille from the spot she was searching which was right under the bed. Camille was not very happy with the advice and flew into a rage out of embarrassment. "How do you know what I'm looking for?!!!" she yelled as she tried to shake off Sherry's hand. When she noticed that Sherolanda wasn't letting go, her eyes lit up with something more than rage, realization. "What have you hid under the floor boards little witch?" her tone had way less anger than before. There was even a little... amusement? Sherry shivered and let go instantly. She felt like her soul was splashed with ice-cold water—NO, NO, NO! What has she done?! The amount of satisfaction Camille got from seeing the mixture of confusion, fear, and absolute anguish on Sherolanda's face was immense—but she wanted more. She wanted to know what was hidden in those floorboards. Now that she was curious, she wouldn't let go. And Sherry knew that, that's why her heart went cold. The bed was pushed away from its place and beneath it were several ordinary-looking floorboards. Camille glanced one last time at Sherolanda's horrified expression and felt an intense amusement bubble up in her heart in place of impatience. She crouched down and began her inspection of the floor, she was knocking around and feeling everywhere. With the way these cabins are built, it's very easy to know if a floor board has been tampered with, from weirdly hollow echos to out-of-place boards etc. but even after a long period of feeling around she still hadn't found anything strange, the rage that had been cooled down earlier seemed to come back up with a vengeance. Her eyes glinted with something malicious as she stood up straight, trying her best to look as dignified as possible. "You must find this incredibly funny, right, little witch?" She said in an extremely sweet voice, another set of shivers passed over Sherry, she got the feeling that she avoided one catastrophe just to stroll into one just as bad. "Was this some sort of trick? I never realized your acting skills were this good. But that's on me. Witches are well known for their ability to adapt..." Camille talked on and on as she walked towards the door, sure it seemed like she was leaving in peace, but they both knew she wasn't going to just let this go. As she walked out, she threw one last look at those cursed floorboards. Now many may be wondering 'what is so special about the floorboards?' Well, this is when we find out. At that exact moment, the moon blossomed from beneath the clouds that buried and its beautiful splendor spilled into the room with a flourish. Sherry's anxious face that seemed to have lightened up with Camille's departure darkened instantly. There it was clear for all to see — a particular floorboard that boasted a shade several times darker than its colleagues. In the dim light of the candle it was almost impossible to spot, but not in the sparkling white moonlight. Camille's eyes widened at the sight, and she dashed towards the bed's former spot. Sherry's body moved before she could think. With her small body, she blocked Camille's path, and immediately got slapped down hard. When Camille saw what was hidden under the bed, she took a sharp breath. Her hands shook slightly as she retrieved the object from the dark crevice, a slick black cauldron. Yes, it was small, but that didn't reduce its incredible worth. Inside the cauldron was a book, a gold-rimmed book that seemed as ancient as it was beautiful. "The Ancient Arts Of POISON Refining?!" Camille's eyes widened even more. Not only was her anger gone, there was even some horror in the gaze she used to stare at Sherolanda—who, by the way, was still trying to gasp for breath after being struck in the chest. She walked over to poor Sherolanda and kicked her in the chest. Sherry coughed so hard from the pain that she felt like dying. "Where did you get these?" "How long have you been studying poison?!!!" With every question her foot came crashing down like some sort of purgatory, "Answer me!!!" she yelled, Sherry felt this command was quite unreasonable since she was unable to even form complete trains of thought at this time. "You know what? Don't tell me, when I report this to mom, everything will naturally become clear." Sherry's innate desire to live kicked in, and she pulled her broken mind together to beg for her life. Anything having to do with poison wasn't just looked down on in this era, it was literally considered a sin, especially in a small town like this. This was basically signing her death certificate, if she'd even be given one. She grabbed the helm of Camille's dress: "Please, please, please!!! Don't tell mother. Please, Camille, my sister, I beg you !" Camille looked positively disgusted by her actions and shook off her hand, kicking her away in the process, "You are not my sister. For all I know, you're just a demon picked up from the trash." "You don't mean that," Sherry was deluding herself. Camille's eyes seemed to go dark at those words. She seemed to be immersed in a dark and cold memory, her eyes glowed in unrighteous fury "But I do. Sherry, I don't love you. I don't know about my mother or father, but I know me, and deep in your heart you know me too. Whatever punishment my mother and the village chief will issue won't be enough to calm my hatred. I would rather we kill you and leave your body to the wolves." She gasped for breath, her hand clutched her chest as her heartbeat increased exponentially. Sherry was immediately worried. She scrambled towards Camille. "Camille, calm down!" she said as she reached for her dress, only to be kicked again. "Let me speak!!!" a few more troubled breaths. "I hate you so much that all my cells burn with the need and desire to tear you apart. I want to kill you, Sherolanda," Sherry froze. Her heart, which should have been tempered through years of abuse, broke again, one final time, under the weight of her sister's words. On multiple occasions, she had been kicked down, but for the first time she actually decided to stay down. "I'm sorry we're related. The truth is, I also want to kill myself." Camille looked at her with cold eyes and for a moment a flash of warmth was visible, but it quickly disappeared. "Then die," she said as she walked out the door, cauldron in hand.