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The Order of Light

by Abigail McFarrlen 6 months ago in Sci Fi / Mystery / Fantasy / Fan Fiction / literature
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Little Black Book

On the outskirts of Nottingham, England, there resides a very peculiar man of great ancestral wealth and prestige. Sir George William Oxley III, is his name, of the great Oxley Estate. The Oxley family has called that land home for 6 generations. Sir George’s wife, Elanor, beloved by many, passed away 15 years ago. She was the only one who would entertain Sir George’s stories of great mystery and folklore. Only his children, George II and Elizabeth are all who remain of his family. His children would rather not have to deal with their father and his infatuation of the bedtime stories of their childhood. Sir George’s children moved on with their lives and left the family estate long ago. Leaving him with the servants and alone with his thoughts. The head butler and old family friend, Baxton, began to notice a decline in Sir George’s health and mental state. Baxton wrote to George II to inform him of his father’s condition and his concern for him. George wrote back to say, “Dear Baxton, please hire someone of known skill to tend to father daily. Therefore, whatever you need I will provide. Baxton, only write to me again when he is nearing the end so that Elizabeth and I can handle all affairs. Sincerely, George.” After reading George’s response back, he became heavy-hearted and quite saddened to see Sir George regarded in such a way by his own children. He thought to himself, “Lady Elanor would have never allowed such cold-heartedness to grow into this detestable treatment of their own father”. Reluctantly, Baxton wrote to the very renowned West Bridgeford Mental Institution advising of the need for a skilled nurse prepared for daily assistance.

There was a kind young woman named Ms. Abigail Hamilton, who worked at West Bridgeford as a transition nurse. Her job was to be with the elderly until passing. Just last summer, Abigail’s father passed away and since then she has been in mourning. Dr. Hemsworth, head of the institution, visited dear Abigail to advise her of a special assignment at the Oxley Estate. He pleaded with her as she was the best transition nurse they have had on staff. He went on to share how Sir George’s children want nothing to do with him in his current state. Even still, Abigail declined, but just as Dr. Hemsworth was leaving her home, she stopped him, “Wait doctor…” she said as she sighed, “…I’ll do it. I’ll go”. Dr. Hemsworth walked back to the doorway where she was, smiled, and said, “This will be good for you, trust me. She thought to herself, “Abigail, what are you doing!”

Two years into caring for Sir George, she grew quite fond of him. She began to learn his ways and thought it harmless to entertain his tales of treasure and the great mystery of centuries passed. Sir George began to address Abigail as Abby for short and when he was mad at her he would call her Abigail. They would play chess and Piquet faithfully—every day in fact. You see, the only way that she could get Sir George to take his medicine was if she played a game with him first. Sir George grew more and more stubborn but Abby could never get angry with him. Abby soon inquired to have her own living quarters to be in close proximity to Sir George. His health was beginning to turn for the worse and with that, the delusions of grandeur. He became irritable and sometimes it did not matter if she offered to play a game with him he would refuse his medicine.

In the Spring of 1909, his health dwindled to the point of grave concern. Any moment Sir George could pass on—at any moment they will no longer have each other. Abby’s spirits dwindled as she couldn’t bear to see him slowly wither away right before her eyes. Abigail saw him as a father, so watching yet another father die right before her eyes was unbearable. She knew it was time to inform his children of his condition so that they can have their last good-bye. She wrote to both George II and Elizabeth pleading with them to please come as the time draws nigh. They never wrote back. Abby went to Baxton in tears to inquire why the children are so cold towards their father. Baxton explained to her that since the passing of their mother, things between the children and Sir George have never been loving or understanding. Sir George wanted his son to go off on wild adventures to find the treasure and keep the secrets he keeps babbling on about. She became saddened at this and vowed to never allow Sir George to die alone.

On one chilled September morning, Abby was sleeping on the window seat in his chambers when he called out to her, “Abby? My Abby!” She, disoriented for a moment, with haste, got up. The blanket she covered herself with while sleeping, wrapped around her ankles causing her to trip and misstep the entire way to the bedside of Sir George. She answered, “Yes. I’m here! I’m here!” He smiles, and asks, “Do you know of the hidden treasures?” She replies, “Yes, yes I do. You told me of these stories re-remember?” He yells, “No! It's in the book! It’s in the black book…” He went on mumbling, not making any sense to Abby. Filled with great sadness, she thought to herself that he must very close to the end. She felt it best to entertain him so as not to further upset him. She says, “Why don’t you tell me of this black book”. Sir George grabs her arm and begins to tell her, “All the secrets are in the book. Only the kind-hearted may know…” He stops to point his frail finger to her heart and kept saying “kind-heart” until He began to stumble over his words while his eyes began looking off into the distance. Abigail rushes up from his bedside with her back towards him so he could not see her weep. She says with tears in her eyes, “Please Sir George, don’t leave me!” With a low trembling voice, he says, “Abby, dearest child. Come.” She came back to his bedside. His hand shaking struggling to lift from his side, he reaches out to her, “Dear Abby, you are the daughter I never—never had” he said smiling. “You are as a father to me”. Tears begin to flow her eyes she takes his hand, kisses it, and presses it against her cheek. Sir George, with the other hand, tried his best to lift his arm as high as he could to point towards a painting in the far right of the room. Abby gets up to see what it was he wanted. She looked back at him for further instructions but he just keeps trying to point to the painting. Finally, she looked behind the painting to discover a small rectangular-shaped object wrapped in brown paper tied to the back. She untied it and yelled, “Got it Sir George! See, I…” She turned to him only to see that Sir George has passed away. In disbelief and shock, she dropped the package she found, fell to her knees, and wept. The whole household felt the heaviness of his passing. Abigail, locked herself in her room for days refusing to eat. The only instruction she gave was to inform Sir George’s children.

On the day of the reading of Sir George’s will, the children arrived to hear what has been passed down to them. Abby was furious! She couldn’t stand to be in their presence knowing how ill they thought of their father. Abby was packed and ready to go back home. As she was leaving the Estate, the lawyer for the will reading, stopped her and asked, “Are you the caretaker, Ms. Abigail Hamilton”? She responded back, “Why yes, I am”. “May you please join us in the calling room”? The children confused just as much as Abigail, quietly waited for the lawyer to commence. The children steamed with pride as they knew of the riches they were about to receive. “I, Sir George William Oxley III being of sound mind and body, do here inscribe the terms of my last will in testament. Firstly, ownership of the Oxley Estate will belong to my dearest caretaker, Abigail Hamilton”. The children are outraged and shocked. George II yelled, “Impossible! She is just a caretaker! We’ve known you since our youth Mr. Aleridge. Surely this must be a mistake!” Abigail fueled with anger, proclaims, “Why does it matter to you both? You cared nothing for him or this grand home!” The lawyer asks them to please settle down as there is more to read. They look angrily with disgust towards Abigail as they all settle down. “To my dear friend, Baxton Hartfield, I leave the house in Leicester”. Baxton, filled with gratitude, stood silently. The children are quite annoyed at this point. George says, angrily, “Carry on! Dear God”! “All of my assets…” The children sit up with excitement as they know this where they hear what they came here for. “….I give to the Church of Her Lady Margret”. The children stuck in utter disbelief, confused, and with great rage got up and began to accuse Abigail of taking advantage of their father and coercing him to remove them from the will out of spite. The lawyer interrupts their bickering to inform them, “I can say with all surety, that Sir George of sound mind and of his own volition, came to me with these amendments. I am sorry. I will see my way out”. They continued to go on about yelling and refusing to stand for what they just encountered. Abigail walked out of the room to see the lawyer out. She asks, “Mr. Aleridge, I must say I agree with them. I must know, was he truly of sound mind? He would go on and on about this fairytales…” He stops her, “Ms. Hamilton, Sir George was a dear friend and he spoke of you as if you were his own daughter.” He begins to walk to his car, “Oh and I wouldn’t dismiss his stories just yet, ” he says as he enters his car. Abigail was stumped by his statement, “Wait! What do you mean? Wait!” she yelled as he drove away.

A week later, in the Oxley Estate, she sat in the calling room and finally opened the package she found on the back of the painting. To her surprise, it was a little black leather-bound book with a note attached to it that read, “Answer the door why don’t you”. Filled with confusion, suddenly there’s a knock at the door. Frightened, she answered the door to a package with no one in sight. She picks it up and closes the door. She unravels the package and inside is $20,000 and a note that reads, “Dearest Abby, you will need this to do what I ask, Let the ink-covered slabs, help you complete your task. Now, you’re next clue awaits. The time is now! Move with haste”! She yells out, “What is happening”! She puts her hand on her head and shacks her head in utter confusion, chuckles, and says under her breath, “You crazy old man. What have you done?” Then she began to read the riddle again, “…ink-covered slabs. What are ink-covered…” Abigail snaps her finger, and with great determination runs over to the little black and says, “It must be this! It has to be!” As she opens the book, a folded up ancient piece of parchment fell from the pages of the book. She slowly kneels down and carefully unfolds it and gasps, “It can’t be. It’s—it’s a…”.

To Be Continued…

Sci FiMysteryFantasyFan Fictionliterature

About the author

Abigail McFarrlen

I am a new writer on the scene! The fantastical world of imagination and the mysteries of the unseen captivate my soul! I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I did writing them! Thank you for your support and encouragement!

Reader insights

Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

Top insight

  1. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

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