Entry III: My Two Mothers

Posted by Lord Alaric Thorne

“I was born once in a room of lullabies, and once more in silence. I have two mothers—one who bled for me, and one who buried me breathing.”

Lady Isadora Thorne

My mother. My first breath.

She had pale hands and a voice like unfinished music. She read me books too old for children, spoke to mirrors as if they whispered back, and sang to me in languages she claimed she’d never learned.

They called her sensitive.
They called her strange.
I called her mine.

She died when I was seven.
But sometimes, in the manor, I find faint chalk markings on the windowsills—the kind she used to draw when she thought I wasn’t looking.

“If I cannot stop the dark, perhaps I can teach it his name.”

She wrote that in her journal. It was her last entry.

Seraphine

My blood-mother. My last breath.

I did not know her name when she came to me. I only knew the hunger. The heat behind my eyes. The grave I could not find my way back to.

She did not speak.
She did not smile.
She fed me her blood—and I died with her memory in my mouth.

I know now she was buried beneath this manor.
That she is the child of flame and silence.
That I am the echo of a curse she never meant to become.

“One gave me life. The other gave me eternity. And I do not know which one I will thank first when I finally stop dreaming.”

~ Lord Alaric Thorne
Archivist. Son of shadow and flame.