Fauns dancing around fires. Griffins soaring high. Unicorns galloping across wide fields and centaurs battling giants.
These are things Amelia Cromwell sees every day.
She doesn't know how they happen or why she sees them but every time she looks...
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Amelia's eyes glazed over as she stared at the wall outlining her bedroom – her consciousness changing the intricate patterns on the wallpaper to shapes of all sizes. She stared at them curiously, tilting her head ever so slightly. The wall swarmed with the strangest creatures she had ever seen: fauns, centaurs, griffins. This was a world that only she could see. It's secrets and mysteries were hers to behold, hers to admire, hers to perceive.
The pattern changed and formed what looked like a cliff. Four people stared over the cliff at the world beyond. From what she could see, they were two boys and two girls. A fifth member joined them – a girl dressed in a long gown floating out behind her. The girl was welcomed by the four children. They seemed happy. They seemed... content.
Amelia could see the majestic shape of a lion take over the picture before –
"Come on, good girl, good girl, come on!" Mrs. Macready's voice rang. Amelia turned away from the lion and she curiously peeked out of the window in her room. She could hear the clip-clop of horse hooves as Mrs. Macready drove the Professor's little carriage. Four children were sitting in the back along with some luggage. The old carriage creaked and clanked as the Macready neared the mansion. Amelia gazed at them curiously.
They must be here because of the war, she thought to herself as she glanced at the top of their heads. Her own father was fighting as a soldier. I'll make our country proud, he had told her, I'll help us win the war. I'll come back, Amelia, I promise.
Amelia sighed. Oh, how she missed her father. For six months she had been without him, and for six months she'd been alone. Perhaps the Macready had finally brought along some good company. Amelia could only hope.
She stayed in her room, only surrounded by the strange images on the walls. She could hear Mrs. Macready's voice echoing through the walls as the old woman lead the four children inside. Amelia figured it best to leave them to their own devices for a while. She remembered her first day without her father, how traumatic it was. She preferred solitude that day, and she was sure these children would want the same.
Hours passed and the mansion soon went silent. No sound echoed but for the song of the birds outside. For some time it was peaceful; Amelia almost felt content, a rare feeling in war times. There she was, a lone child hoping and praying for the safe return of her father, just like the many others scattered across the countryside, but there was nothing else she could do other than hope and pray.
Then the silence was broken by the rumble of her stomach. She sighed heavily before getting off her bed and making her way over to the door.
She tip-toed out of her room, not wanting to make any noise to disturb the Professor. Amelia hadn't seen much of Professor Kirke – a kind, pot-bellied man – in the six months that she had spent in his mansion. He preferred his books and studies – leaving Amelia alone with only the Macready to keep her company.
