CHAPTER 13: THE KEEPERS OF ASH WOOD MANOR
1663 Words
Chapter 13: The Keeper of Ashwood Manor (Part 1)
The road to Ashwood Manor disappeared beneath a blanket of morning fog.
Damien Blackwood slowed the SUV as twisted oak trees crowded both sides of the narrow road. Their branches stretched across the sky like silent hands guarding forgotten memories.
Beside him, Ariana Cole stared out the window without speaking.
The diary rested on her lap.
Her fingers traced its worn leather cover as if it were the only bridge left between her and her late mother.
Lucas Grant sat in the back seat, studying a faded map spread across his knees.
"We're close," he said quietly. "According to the coordinates hidden in the diary, Ashwood Manor should be just beyond the hill."
Damien nodded but kept his eyes on the road.
For the first time in years, hope frightened him.
Every clue they uncovered brought them closer to the truth—but also closer to the people determined to bury it forever.
The SUV rounded one final bend.
An enormous iron gate emerged from the fog.
Beyond it stood Ashwood Manor.
The mansion looked forgotten by time.
Stone walls were covered with ivy.
Broken statues lined the entrance.
Most of the windows were dark.
Only one upstairs window glowed with warm yellow light.
"So someone lives here," Ariana whispered.
Lucas frowned.
"Or wants us to think they do."
Damien stepped out of the vehicle first.
The cold morning air carried the scent of rain and old pine trees.
As he approached the gate, it slowly creaked open by itself.
None of them had touched it.
Ariana exchanged a nervous glance with Lucas.
"I don't like this."
"Neither do I," Lucas admitted.
"But we've come too far to turn back."
Together, they walked toward the manor.
Their footsteps echoed across the cracked stone path.
Before Damien could knock, the heavy wooden door swung inward.
An elderly woman wearing a dark green dress stood inside.
Her silver hair was neatly tied behind her head.
Her eyes were calm.
Almost as though she had been expecting them.
"You took longer than I imagined," she said.
Damien stiffened.
"You know who we are?"
The woman smiled gently.
"I knew your parents."
"And I've been waiting for this day for twenty-seven years."
Silence settled over the entrance hall.
Ariana's heartbeat quickened.
"My parents?"
The woman stepped aside.
"Please come in."
"You've travelled a long way."
The hall smelled of cedar wood and old books.
Portraits covered the walls.
Some depicted members of the Blackwood family.
Others showed people Ariana had never seen before.
One portrait stopped her in her tracks.
It showed a young woman with the same eyes.
The same smile.
The same dark hair.
"My mother..."
The elderly woman nodded.
"Emily spent many happy afternoons in this house."
Damien looked around.
"You still haven't told us your name."
She bowed her head slightly.
"My name is Eleanor Ashcroft."
"I was your grandfather's closest friend."
Lucas noticed something unusual.
Every clock inside the manor had stopped at exactly the same time.
Nine-fifteen.
"Why are all the clocks broken?" he asked.
Eleanor's expression became distant.
"They stopped on the day Richard Blackwood disappeared."
Damien slowly turned toward her.
"My father."
"You knew he was coming here?"
"I knew he never arrived."
Those words struck Damien like ice.
"What do you mean?"
"Everyone believes your father died in an accident."
She sighed.
"I believe someone made certain he never reached this house."
Ariana's breath caught.
"You think he was murdered."
"I think," Eleanor replied softly, "that your parents discovered something powerful enough to frighten people who controlled fortunes, governments, and families."
Lucas opened his notebook.
"Then tell us everything."
Eleanor shook her head.
"Not here."
She led them through the manor into an enormous library.
Thousands of books filled floor-to-ceiling shelves.
Sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, painting the room in shades of blue and gold.
At the center stood a large oak table.
Resting upon it was a wooden chest secured by three brass locks.
Eleanor placed one hand on the lid.
"Richard left this with me."
"He told me to protect it until two people arrived together."
She looked first at Damien.
Then at Ariana.
"I believe those two people are standing before me."
Damien's pulse quickened.
"What's inside?"
"The truth."
She removed a small key from around her neck.
The first lock clicked open.
Then the second.
She hesitated before unlocking the third.
"Once you see what's inside," she warned, "your lives will never return to what they were."
Before anyone could answer—
A loud crash echoed outside.
Lucas hurried to the window.
His face hardened.
"We're not alone."
Three black vehicles rolled through the open gate.
Men in dark suits climbed out, spreading across the front lawn with practiced precision.
Damien instinctively stepped in front of Ariana.
"They found us."
Eleanor closed the chest immediately.
"No."
"They followed you."
The front doors shook beneath a heavy impact.
Someone outside shouted,
"Open the door!"
"We know Blackwood is inside!"
Eleanor calmly looked toward a portrait hanging above the fireplace.
"There's another way."
She reached behind the painting and pressed a hidden switch.
With a low rumble, one of the bookshelves slowly swung inward, revealing a narrow stone passage disappearing into darkness.
Lucas grabbed the chest.
Damien took Ariana's hand.
Eleanor picked up an old lantern and stepped into the hidden passage first.
"Hurry."
"They won't stop until they find what Richard died protecting."
Behind them, the front door splintered beneath another powerful blow.
The hunt had reached Ashwood Manor.
And the greatest secret of the Blackwood family was finally beginning to awaken.
: part 2:The Archive Below
The narrow stone passage sloped gently beneath the manor.
Eleanor Ashcroft held the lantern high, its golden light dancing across damp walls carved with symbols that neither Damien nor Ariana recognized. Behind them, the muffled sounds of shouting echoed through the hidden corridor as the intruders searched the house above.
"They won't find this passage easily," Eleanor said without looking back. "It was built long before the manor existed."
Lucas glanced over his shoulder.
"I'd still rather not test how long that remains true."
The tunnel opened into a circular chamber supported by thick stone pillars. Unlike the abandoned rooms they had searched in the past, this place had been carefully maintained. Shelves filled with leather-bound journals lined the walls. Wooden cabinets held neatly labeled document boxes, while a large map covered one side of the room.
In the center stood a round table.
Eleanor placed the heavy chest upon it.
"For twenty-seven years," she said softly, "I protected this room because two families believed one day their children would finish what they could not."
Damien looked around in amazement.
"My father trusted you with all this?"
"He trusted very few people."
Ariana walked toward one of the shelves.
Each journal carried a year.
1989.
1990.
1991.
Dozens of years had been carefully preserved.
She gently removed one volume.
Inside were handwritten entries, sketches, newspaper clippings, and photographs documenting meetings between community leaders, business owners, and charitable foundations.
"This isn't just a diary," Ariana whispered.
"It's a record."
Lucas nodded.
"A record someone clearly wanted erased."
Eleanor unlocked the wooden chest.
Instead of gold or jewels, it contained carefully wrapped bundles of letters, cassette tapes, photographs, and an old camera.
Damien frowned.
"I expected something different."
"The truth rarely looks valuable," Eleanor replied. "Until someone tries to destroy it."
She handed Damien a sealed envelope.
On the front, written in faded ink, were the words:
For the day you choose courage over revenge.
Damien hesitated.
"My father wrote this?"
"Yes."
"But before you read it, there's something you deserve to know."
Everyone fell silent.
"Richard Blackwood and Emily Cole didn't become allies because of business."
"They became friends because they believed wealth should protect people, not control them."
Ariana lowered her eyes.
"My mother never talked about those years."
"She couldn't," Eleanor answered. "Too many lives depended on silence."
Lucas unfolded the large wall map.
Colored pins marked dozens of locations across the country.
"What are these?"
"Places where evidence was hidden."
"Not all in one place," Eleanor explained. "Your parents knew that if everything stayed together, one attack could destroy it all."
Damien studied the map.
"So every clue we've found..."
"...was only one piece."
Eleanor smiled.
"Exactly."
A sudden vibration interrupted the conversation.
Lucas pulled a small receiver from his pocket.
The signal flashed red.
"They've entered the library."
Everyone looked toward the ceiling.
Heavy footsteps echoed faintly above.
"They're closer than I hoped," Eleanor admitted.
Ariana stepped beside Damien.
"We can't stay here."
"Not yet," Eleanor replied.
She opened another cabinet and removed a polished wooden box.
Inside rested an old silver compass.
Unlike an ordinary compass, its needle pointed neither north nor south.
Instead, it settled over a tiny engraved hawk.
"This belonged to Richard."
Damien accepted it carefully.
"It doesn't point north."
"It wasn't designed to."
"It was built to respond to a special mineral hidden beneath several safe houses your parents created."
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
"So it leads to the next hiding place."
Eleanor nodded.
"If used correctly."
Before Damien could ask another question, the lights flickered.
The chamber fell into darkness.
Only the lantern remained.
Lucas immediately reached for his flashlight.
"No..."
He stared at the tunnel entrance.
A thin beam of white light slowly swept across the stone floor.
Someone else was inside the passage.
The footsteps were calm.
Measured.
Whoever approached was in no hurry.
A deep voice echoed through the darkness.
"You've protected these secrets for a long time, Eleanor."
"But every story must end."
Damien stepped forward, placing himself between Ariana and the approaching figure.
The stranger emerged from the shadows wearing a charcoal-gray coat.
He carried no visible weapon.
His expression was calm.
Almost friendly.
"I've finally found you," he said.
His eyes settled on Damien.
"And now we can finish the promise our parents began."
- Writer
