FLAME OF THE WOODS

Chapter 4 (The Job to be done)

I stood frozen, still trying to make sense of what he meant by “that thing,” when suddenly, a low bell echoed through the mansion. It wasn’t loud, but deep, like a hum that rolled through the floor and into my shoes.

Fred turned toward the master without saying a word, his grin curling at the edges. I followed his gaze.

“It’s almost time,” he said quietly. “The young master must be alone now.”

“W-wait—what bell was that?” I asked, blinking.

“It only rings once a year,” he replied. “And it just happens to be today.” Then, flat and firm, “Thank you for your service, Ms. Mair. You may rest now.”

His voice was calm, but I could tell—he wanted me out.

I still had so many questions. But maybe this wasn’t the time to ask.

So I stepped out of the room and made my way back down the hall. Straight to my room.

I closed the door behind me, but the sound of that bell lingered in my bones. It was unlike anything I’d heard before. It’s eerily low, vibrating, almost like it came from beneath the floors instead of above them. Or perhaps I’m overthinking things again.

In my room, I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to calm myself from the sudden happenings. What did Fred mean by "it’s almost time"? And why did that sound make every situation seem odd?

I glanced at the schedule again. Feed him. Give him sunlight. Bathe him once a week. And "Do your thing," he had said, like it meant more than just routine. Like there was something I didn’t know I was supposed to do.

The room felt too quiet, like the walls were listening.

I got up and opened the window. The breeze outside was cool, but instead of calming me, it made me more aware of how still everything was. The trees didn’t sway. The air carried no sound of birds, no rustling leaves. Just silence. Too perfect for a place where a person can go insane.

Then, my eyes fell on a journal placed neatly on the desk—mine. I hadn’t remembered leaving it there. But perhaps I may have unknowingly placed it on the table as I was arranging my stuff yesterday.

I opened it.

The page was blank, but the pen was uncapped beside it. Something compelled me to write.

“Today I heard a bell that doesn’t belong to time. It rang not to tell the hour, but to signal... something else.”

I paused, staring at what I’d written.

I set it aside and took the contract in my hands. Then I lay back and stared at the ceiling, ready, maybe, for whatever this place had planned next.

3rd POV

***********

Mair lay on her bed with the contract in her hands. She read every page from start to finish. Everything looked fine—until the last page.

That’s when she saw it.

A new section, hidden but clear. She thought it hadn't been there before. Or maybe she just hadn’t noticed.

Her stomach dropped. She sat up straight. Her hands began to shake.

It was a marriage clause. As written,

Marriage Agreement: This contract acknowledges the legal and spiritual union of Kale Draven and Marinelle Mair Winslowe, by consent and permanence, in service to the House.

She jumped off the bed in a panic and muttered to herself.

“I have to consult Fred with this. He surely might have known about this legal matter. But what if he was still busy with that “thing” he mentioned earlier? What if I wasn’t supposed to see this?”

Instead, she stood frozen in the quiet of her room, the paper still warm from her grip.

Marriage. To Kale Draven. And she had signed it.