Beyond Time (closed)

Dylan was caught off guard by the image that had suddenly changed. The man with the piercing eyes was suddenly staring straight at her and seated behind a piano in the ballroom. The same ballroom that was just a room away. Well, certainly not the same one, she thought to herself. The manor had been rebuilt many times in the past, but still, the image did hold some startling similarities.

As soon as the image was placed back upright she knew that she had to sate her curiosity. Moving out of the studio she made her way towards the ballroom, standing outside the thick doors for a moment with her heart racing. John would think she had lost her mind, she thought as she pressed her hands to the dark woodwork and press inward.

The doors opened into the ballroom, revealing what she thought she was going to see…nothing. The portraits were still on the walls, shrouded in darkness, but the piano was silent and there was certainly no one there playing it.

At least, at first there was no one playing. But just as she was about to turn and leave, a single note played, a low G. Then soon came the C up from it, then the E above. These repeated slowly, and she was soon recognizing Beethoven's fourteenth piano sonata, commonly called 'Moonlight Sonata'. And in the darkness, she could almost see a figure just before she blinked.

Dylan paused in her retreat as she heard the strains of the Moonlight Sonata drifting along the still air of the ballroom where there had been nothing just moments earlier. Ever so slowly, she turned to look over her shoulder and through the darkness she could see him there at the piano, a lone figure in the darkness that seemed to be materializing before her very eyes. She blinked and he was gone, but the music remained all the same.

She had never been one to believe in ghosts and she certainly didn’t think that Darkwood Manor was haunted, but there was something very extraordinary going on there this evening. She moved slowly towards the light switch, her fingers finding it as her eyes continued to watch that piano. She flicked the switch quickly, the entire room bathed in bright light from the crystal candelabra that hung overhead.

The music softened as she flicked the lights on, but it didn't go away. The piano keys weren't moving. Even when she looked inside at the strings, they weren't moving. But the sound didn't seem to be coming from the piano any more... it seemed to be all around her.

And then she heard footsteps, before a gentle hand came to her shoulder. "Excuse me miss... who are you? And how did you get into my home?" The voice was like dark, smooth silk, and the accent was a hybrid of London English and Highland Scottish. When she turned to see the figure, she was staring straight into the face of the founder of Darkwood. He was dressed in a black waistcoat, cloak, and tall riding boots with black breeches, a dark vest and a fine red tunic with a black kerchief at his throat. Soft leather riding gloves hid his broad hands and a belt about his waist carried a rapier. He looked like he'd just come in from riding or from a journey.

"Van," he called into the halls. "Did you bring in a guest to wait for me?"

In the doorway appeared Van himself in the same clothes as before, still blind and still normal. "Yes, sir. This is Lady Dylandra Jennings of London, milord."

"Ah. Well, I wasn't expecting guests today, but welcome my dear lady," Ashien smiled at her and kissed her hand. "Excuse me one moment while I change into something more suitable. Van, please escort her to the parlor and bring tea if you would."

"Yes, sir." And as Ashien swept out, Van turned back to Dylan. "Miss Jennings... how in God's name did you get here?"

Dylan was staring into the piano when she heard footsteps and jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. She let out a scream and turned to look at the man that was standing behind her. She came face to face with the man from the portrait, in the flesh and very much alive. Her dark eyes widened, lips o’ing in a gasp, as he called out to Van.

Her friend appeared and looked the same as always, telling Ashien that she was Lady Dylandra Jennings. This had to be some sort of weird dream. She had fallen asleep in the studio and she would wake up any moment now. Wouldn’t she?

She blushed as Ashien kissed her hand and excused himself, sweeping from the room before Van asked her in shock how she had gotten there.

“I don’t know.” She said softly, looking around the ballroom that seemed to have changed in appearance. There were no portraits and the wood work looked almost new….”Van, what’s going on?”

"... Welcome to Darkwood Manor, Miss. The original. Its construction just officially finished a month ago, August fourth of the year 1103." He sighed, clearly quite vexed about the situation. "I knew I should've stored the piano away..." he rubbed his brow, but then bade her follow. "Come, let's not keep Lord Ashien waiting."

Van turned to make his way down the hall toward the parlor. Once he had her settled, he'd make the tea.

“No, seriously.” Dylan murmured as Van escorted her through the halls of Darkwood Manor. “Is this some kind of joke? Where’s John? Is he in on this?”

Dylan looked up at the man that she trusted so much and felt utterly flabbergasted. What in the world was going on and why did the home look so incredibly different? Where were the electric lights? Where were all of her grandfather’s possessions?

"John is exactly where you left him in the year 2013. This is 1103, the time of King Henry the First of England, grandson of William the Conqueror who won England in 1066." Van continued on as if all was normal muttering to himself to put the piano away as soon as possible. He sighed then, "When I told you I was a descendant of Lady Valentina Ambrose... it wasn't exactly true. I'm actually her uncle, my brother is Lord Vincenzo Ambrose, second husband of Grand Duchess Katherine Ghis of Inverness. But that hasn't happened yet."

He brought her to the parlor and offered her a seat. "Don't let Lord Ashien know you're not from his time. It will only confuse him and he may think you're crazy."

“Crazy? This is most certainly crazy, Van.” She said with a hiss to her voice as he brought her into the parlor and offered her a seat. “Time travel isn’t possible. What am I doing here?”

Before that could be answered, she glanced towards the door to see Lord Ashien standing there, watching the scene very curiously. She glanced down at her clothing, noticing that she was still dressed in the shorts and t-shirt that she had pulled on after leaving John in bed the evening before. What in the world would he think of her?

Apparently Ashien didn't mind much. In fact, in addition to changing into a proper suit, he'd brought a cloak for her. He laid it around her shoulders and smiled kindly, "It gets awfully cold in some parts of the manor. You'll have to forgive me for asking, but I've never seen clothes like that. Where do they come from?"

"Uh, sir, I-"

"Van, I'm not entirely thick-headed, I know she's not from this place. Or this time, for that matter. I remember Jennings and his visit."

"L-Lord Jennings came here...?" Van looked entirely floored.

"Yes. So you must be related to him, Miss." Ashien settled across from her. "You needn't cover things up, I'm aware of my piano's oddities. After all, it was carved from the wood of a blessed tree."

“You know my grandfather?” Dylan asked as the cloak was draped around her shoulders and tied tightly. “I am sorry to say that he has passed away.”

Ashien spoke as if he had just seen him, talked to him as if he were a guest that had visited regularly. Everything made Dylan’s head spin. This simply wasn’t possible, she thought to herself. She was not there in the room with a man who had died centuries before.

"I know... and I'm sorry for your loss, my dear. But welcome anyhow to Darkwood. I trust it's still acceptable in your time."

Soon, Van returned with tea and Ashien thanked him with a smile. "So, Miss Dylandra, tell me about yourself," he looked over to her with a kind and clear gaze. He was the greatest gentleman she'd ever known aside from her grandfather.

Dylan was silent for a long moment as Van brought the tea and Ashien asked her to tell him about herself. He smiled with an honest way about him and Dylan was still struck by the events that had happened around her. She sucked in a deep breath and sighed, letting out her breath in a slow and even tone.

“Well…I’m from London. I’m an artist. I’m engaged to be married next summer.” She said softly, not really sure what else she should tell this mystery man.

"An artist?" He sat forward with interest.

"A painter, sir."

"Well so am I, but I'm guessing you might already know that from Van." Ashien rose, "Come, let me show you some things I've been working on." She hadn't seen much from him that wasn't a painting of Lady Dylandra.

“I’ve already seen your work.” Dylan said as Ashien rose and bade her to follow him. “Your portrait of your wife…the one you never finished.”

She stood despite her better judgment and decided to see what he had to show her. What could it hurt? It wasn’t like any of this was real. She was convinced that she was dreaming and any moment now she would wake to find that she had fallen asleep in that studio in the tower. That was the only explanation as to why she was currently spending time with a man who had died centuries ago.

"I'm not married my dear," Ashien shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know who my wife will be yet." He went on to open up his study, which had an actual door rather than the panel in Dylan's time. When he opened it up, Dylan saw the rosewood easel with a half-finished painting of the manor itself, and many others hug on the walls of all manner of things. There was no repeated subject as she'd seen of his wife.

“No…seriously, I’ve seen your wife’s work as well. She painted you in a full length portrait. And you painted her multiple times. There was even one where she was with a white tiger.” Dylan said, flabbergasted that there was no picture of the mysterious woman that had been there only moment before. “I swear. I even commented to Van that our signatures were so alike.”

"... Hm... A white tiger, you say?" He looked up and called out, "Ballas!"

Padding down the hall and into the room, the very tiger from the painting appeared, wearing a dark purple cloth about his neck as in the painting. A collar of sorts, but not constricting. Ashien let his fingers stroke through the beast's fur along his neck as Ballas nudged up against his hip, looking up at Dylan. He was as large as Van, simply on four paws.

Dylan watched as the tiger walked into the room, her eyes trailing from the large beast to Ashien as he pet the big cat like a pet. There was no way that any of this was happening, she thought to herself. The world was tilting at a sickening pace and she looked into Ashien’s dark gaze with a frown before she was suddenly crumpling to the ground, unable to process what was happening around her.

Ashien immediately fell to his knees beside her, supporting her against his shoulder in his arms. "Breathe, Miss Dylan," he encouraged softly, scooping her up in his arms to bring her to his chair and sit her down.

He knelt before her, laying a hand on her cheek kindly. "I'm sorry, miss. This must be incredibly overwhelming for you."

“This isn’t possible.” It was all she could say as the man that had been long dead scooped her up in his arms and sat her on a chair. “This just isn’t possible.”

She wasn’t sure how ay of this had occurred. She needed to find out where John was and why she had suddenly slipped between time. Who was the Dylandra in Ashien’s life? Surely it couldn’t be her…could it?

“Please tell me that this is all a dream. You must have a wife named Dylandra. She must have blonde hair, clear eyes, she has to exist.” She said desperately, clinging to his hand like a woman who was losing her mind.

"I'm afraid not, my dear. It's very real, and I've never been married. I've never known a woman before named Dylandra... Is that your true name?" He asked softly. "Don't think that you need to marry me, Miss Dylan, just because the future says so. I'll have Van take you back."

“Dylandra Hailey Jennings.” She said softly, confirming that her name was truly Dylandra. Dylan was having a hard time believing that she was the same woman that had been in all of those portraits and paintings.

“Wait. Before you have Van take me back…I think we need to talk about this. How is this all possible?” She asked him softly, wondering if there was something strange within the halls of Darkwood Manor.

Ashien's answer was simple: "Your time must not believe in magic or the mysteries of the forest."

He rose with a sigh, calling Van and speaking softly to him about taking Dylan back and making sure the piano didn't bother her again.

“We don’t have magic or mysteries on our forests in my time.” Dylan answered as Ashien rose and told Van to take her back and make sure that the piano didn’t bother her any longer. “No, you’re not going to send me back without answering my questions.”