Aeturnis remembered well the day her mother died. As she sat on the narrow wooden bed, staring at the chipping paint of the ceiling, she remembered. In her arms lay The Memory Book - her mother's final parting gift. Her memories. She had known her time was short, had known soon she would shed this mortal coil, she had worked too long collecting the Blackemarr, the essence of Magick. Found only near the Deadlands, those that collected it were often struck with the curse. But it was also the lifeblood of their world. A dire necessity - at whatever cost.
Yes, Aeturnis would always remember her mother - her warm arms, her gentle words, so different from the harsh and stark treatment she received here, in the Orphanage. She knew she was Huvryss - of mixed blood, and as such was marked as something of an outsider. Cross-kin relationships were not forbidden, as such, but such unions were frowned upon. Marriage between them was illegal and hybrid children were a real rarity. She should have been revered, but instead she was feared. The girls whom she shared the small quarters with avoided her, preferring to pretend she did not exist. Aeturnis did not mind, not really (although deep down inside she felt only sadness) - she had her books, and her Memories.
Knowing she had limited time, her mother had dedicated the last few months of her life to creating the book - filling it with photographs, anecdotes, stories, poems and quotes. And the Memories... Her mother had always kept a journal, and here were the extracts, scripted in her mother's tidy hand.
Aeturnis swelled with love as she read it. She was luckier then these poor orphans - she at least had known a mother that loved and cherished her. Very few of the others could claim that.
As she flipped through the familiar pages, she turned at last to the back - the pages she could not bear to look. They had been written just before her mother had passed away, and her hand was shaky as it formed the words. Aeturnis could not even begin to read them without tears clouding her eyes and threatening to stain the delicate pages. She forced herself through them, turning at last to the final page, and finding a small picture - not a photograph, but clipped from a magazine. She paused, puzzled, for it seemed to bear no relevance to anything else in the book. The picture showed a lean, muscular Lycaon, clad in naught but leather pants and a white shirt, open to display his uniquely patterned and muscular chest. He stood on a stage, astride a microphone stand, mouth open as he howled the words to the song. Perhaps that was why he was here, Aeturnis mused, her father had been a Lycaon. Her mother had told her the basics - there had been a brief and greatly frowned upon relationship, the prejudice drove them apart before she was even aware that she had become pregnant. She had never seen a picture of her father, but surely this muscular musician was not that of whom her mother had spoken?
The caption to the picture read: "Julius Lowe of Aeternity struts his stuff."
She froze - Aeternity, Aeturnis? Surely this wasn't her father? How would her mother come to be with a musician? She had always been so quiet and gentle and shy!
The coincidences were too bold to ignore. Beneath the picture were words in a spidery, shaky script, almost unrecognisable from the same hand as those earlier.
I should have told you sooner, but cannot bear to admit my foolishness, even as I know my last days are due to pass I can still not admit it to your face. The recklessness of youth brought with it my greatest fear - but also my greatest treasure.
You.
My daughter, I pray to Elysia, Goddess of Life, that you do not harbour anger at me for keeping such things a secret. Please understand that I did it to protect you and because I love you. But now I realise you deserve to know.
You were a love-child, as you always knew because those not of the same kin-group could never marry. What you do not know was that your father and I came together for only a fleeting fragment of time. This is he, the only picture I could find - Julius Lowe, vocalist of the once very popular Aeternity. His band is your namesake. Our night together was impulsive and passionate. I cannot say I loved him - idolised yes, and I know to him I was nothing more then another groupie, yet he was both gentle and fiery. The next morning I made my way home, feeling shamed and excited at the same time.
A month later I realised I was pregnant.
You were a miracle, my sweet Aeturnis - his seed should never have taken (at this Aeturnis felt slightly embarrassed, as though she were reading something she should not. Her mother had ever been frank, but reading about herself in this manner seemed a little ... creepy), and yet it did. You were my miracle, my treasured child. I adored you, and I still do. I will forever love you, Aeturnis.
I never informed Julius of your existence. For this I feel guilt, but I did not want to trouble him, and to be honest, I felt somewhat shamed that I had acted in such a way. Do not believe that I regret your birth - you were the meaning of my life, and I shall forever cherish you. It is the means that was somewhat of an embarrassment. However, now I am not long of this world and as you have no blood-kin, save your father, I inform you of his identity. Whether or not you choose to find him is your decision.
The band Aeternity have faded into obscurity. His last known residence was in Eriwyn - a city in the hills to the north. If you decide to pursue this matter, I urge you to take a wagon. The road is dangerous for one on foot and the Deadlands encroach on both sides.
I cannot say how Julius will react, nor can I say whether it is right or wrong for you to pursue him. You deserve to know your paternity, my beloved daughter, and I will not hide it from you in my death.
I love you.
Your mother,
Alianna Christie
Tears danced in her vision, and she wiped them away as excitement warred with the grief in her heart. She had a father - he may not know she existed, but he had a name and a career. She could not deny that a small thrill ran through her - her father, a rock star!
But how would he react to her? She glanced around the small room, the room she shared with three other girls, all of which showed her nothing but disdain. There was no life for her here. She had an inheritance - for all its risks, collecting Blackemarr brought in the money (and if it were not for the fact that at 15 she was underage, she would certainly not be in this Orphanage) and she was certain she could afford the carriage ride to Eriwyn.
She would do it. It was time she stood up and stood tall. She would find her father and make him love her - if the need arose.