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The Narlington Chronicles Vol 1-3

Vol. 1-3

By Tony MessinaPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 6 min read
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Chateau Boudreaux was a small village nestled between two intersecting mountain ranges, where Bianca La Bouchère's family had existed for many millennia. This once-thriving federation with her lineage-linked deeply and eerily to La Bouchère's namesake; however, the terrain was outwardly similar to her tragic birthplace. She escaped from overwhelming emotional and physical traumas, unleashing her on this unnatural course. The landscape was uncharacteristic, packed with lush vegetation covering the countryside, without any modern-day infrastructure, effects, or modernization byproducts.

An ordinary brown and gray washed-out cottage stood tucked on the outskirts of this small remote village. Where Bianca La Bouchère was peacefully resting, unaware of the metaphysical journey she had undergone. Her senses were slowly becoming aware of her present surroundings; her mind regained full awareness. A welcomed feeling of the warm bed allowed her body to acclimate to her unknown surroundings. It was a stark contrast to the bone-chilling waters; she was lying in previously. Bianca's passage of time was elusive and imperceptible; an aroma of stale sweat and a hot decaying manure odor filled the air. Annie La Bouchère was not a delicate woman by any standards. With a small, stocky frame giving an outward impression, she was no pushover, but all the boys in town knew otherwise. Annie's long thick, coarse, auburn mane was her most distinguishing feature. Being a daughter of the town's only butcher, she wore a modest tattered homespun dress adorned by an elegant leather waistband, which was the only piece of extravagance she could afford.

She was invariably the first to raise and eagerly greeted the day's trials and hadn't otherwise. Otherworldly unseen forces, manipulated by the gods and the universe, had other ideas in mind. "Bianca, wake your lazy ass up!" Annie said with an enthusiastic tone. "We've got to get to the shop before Papa realizes. We didn't clean up last night. You know how he gets it." Annie continued.

Bianca La Bouchère couldn't help feeling disorientated by her recent nightmare. Despite her recent mishap, she felt like a heavyweight had eased slightly. As a searing pain washed over her head, her body finally caught up to her already racing mind. Bianca, unsteady still stunned, called out; "Where am I? What's that god awful stench?", "Come on, ye pasty bitch." Annie said with a clever shit-ass look. Bianca wasn't much of an early bird, loathing the morning ritualism of Americans. She yearned for her time back in Chateau Bordeaux. Enjoying the slow pace of her small town, but without all the suffering that came with it.

A warm sun ray shone through tiny slits in an old pair of worn wooden shutters. Bianca managed to open her eyelids in response to the gentle radiating early morning sunlight. I can move! The room looked oddly friendly; however, she couldn't place it precisely. She visually explored her foreign surroundings, scanning room for anything to elicit a familiar memory. Bianca felt the lumps in her back from the abrasive bedding, covering her achy body with a shabby blanket reeking of vomit and ale and triggering a forgettable time spent in the European junior football league, where she had grown up all too quickly. She spent many nights in random flats with numerous partners throughout Europe. Bianca wasn't proud of herself during those days but learned valuable life lessons. Once her sore and achy body settled, she turned her attention to the absence or lack of modern furnishing, feeling anxious in her present mental state. "Where the Fuck am I? Who was this girl? She looked so familiar, and when the fuck am I? Why are there no modern amenities in this room?

Where are my clothes, Katie?" The young stocky girl's head snapped back, "Who's the fuck is Katie!" Annie said with a spiteful look in her eye as she persisted. "Is that the whore who you're fucking from The Wicked Tooth Cabaret?"

"No! What are you talking about? Sorry, I must've been dreaming." Bianca said with a bewildered look.

"Shit! The Dire Wolf sure did a number on your memory, by the way, your secret's safe with me, sis." Annie winked.

"Dire Wolf?" Bianca said, tilting her head, attempting to follow the conversation. "Wow! So you don't remember, eh!" Annie said.

Annie wasn't sure what to make of her twin sister. Bianca hadn't been acting like herself since the incident. She couldn't place the feeling, but the Bianca La Bouchère lying in bed wasn't the same Bianca La Bouchère, with whom she was gathering herbs days prior. "We were gathering Lavender, Willow bark, and Chamomile for your chronic headaches by the edge of the Ford Haven River when a Dire Wolf attacked." Annie continued, "You were so brave; you told me to run and get Papa when we came back. We found the Dire Wolf bloody carcass on top of you."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, that's right," Bianca said deceptively.

"I am fortunate to have such a brave sister to watch out for me," Annie said with an impatient tone in her voice. "Hurry, we're going to be late." "Sorry, but where are my clothes?" Bianca hesitated to ask. "You are wearing them silly," Annie said. Bianca's body felt weirdly energized by a mysteriously foreign force; she couldn't comprehend where she was or how she could function. As Annie's face came into full view, astonished Bianca looked hard at her resemblance to her late sister. She proceeded to stare blankly at her. "Was this her sister she had lost so long ago, or was this all an apathetic dream?" It felt all too real and outwardly all too right. "This can't be happening." Unfortunately, there wasn't time to dwell. Bianca needed to find a way out of here. The two young women hurried out of the modest two-bedroom cottage.

Annie and Bianca navigated the sinuous alleyways; simultaneously, the sun rays struggled to reach the streets below through the towering dilapidated buildings. The cramped village's passageways weaved sharply left and then right. Hints of mint and lavender filled the air, only overpowered by the caustic smell of urine and feces. Bianca was straining to keep pace with Annie.

Bianca didn't know where exactly she was but had a calming realization; she was in the right place.

"Where are we headed ?" Bianca said, catching her breath.

"Duh, we work with papa at the butch shop," Annie said.

Annie felt uneasy; "who was this woman, following her. She looked and spoke like Bianca but did act like her; she couldn't focus on it;" they had work to do.

"Don't we go to school?" said Bianca, probing for some indication of where she was.

"School! Wow, how hard did you hit your head the other day? School is for the elite, not us common folk." Annie chirped. In that instant, Bianca realized she wasn't in Connecticut, nor was she sure when she was. Bianca recalled her final movements of the game, kicking the winning goal and landing on her back, followed by a throbbing pain in her head. She felt the back of her head; to her surprise, nothing was there, and to her amazement, the throbbing pain was non-existent. A sense of bewilderment and panic began to take hold.

Fantasy
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