The Song of London

    Music, the notes, the sound, all of it. It's a part of me. Music is like soap bubbles from the wash, they get closer and closer and then, they finally burst with sound. Those sounds, those bubbles, are what keeps my heart beating. Music is a part of me, just like I am of it. Music is a contract, but you don't sign it with simple ink. You sign it with your heart, pledging to keep it alive if it does the same for you. I've signed that contract. Forever I am one with music. 

    "My lady, it's time to wake up." My maid Dyna opens my heavy curtains, her small frame looking even more petite in the large space of sunlight that has flooded through the window. She carefully picks up a silver tray, layden with tea and its many utensils. 
"Which will my lady take?" Her chirpy voice questions me. I yawn, my hand moving to cover my mouth. I sit up from my warm bed, scooting back in my cotton nightgown, leaning ever so slightly on my ornately carved headboard. 

"Earl Grey." I say smoothly, not doubting my voice in the least. She walks over, her steps almost soundless. She sets the tray down on my bedside table, beginning to prepare the morning tea. "What is today's schedule?" I question softly. 

"Today we have a fitting for the harvest ball, next a violin lesson, and finally, a lunch with your fiancée," she paused for a moment, glancing at a small scrap of paper on the trey.      " The rest of your day is free." She then proceeds to pour the well brewed tea into a white China cup, dropping a small spoonful of sugar into it. She hands me the cup, as I inhale deeply, the strong scent penetrates my nostrils. 

"Thank you Miss. Dyna." I give her a warm smile, as if to tell her that she has done well. She curtsies and exits the room quickly. I wait for a moment, setting down the tea cup and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I stand quickly, a little too quickly, my vision blacking out for a moment, my hand going to the table to support me. My vision clears after I take a few breaths, and I resume my routine. I pick up the tea cup and make my way to the window, the floor creaking much more for me than it did for Dyna. I looked out onto London. The streets were already busy, people walking to church, maids and butlers running errands for their masters. I looked up, looking at the Thames. But my view goes farther than that, I look at the London bridge, it seeming to be almost directly in front of me. The buildings on the other side varied in height, which made the view even more exquisite as the sun had almost made its way over the buildings.

     I looked at the Thames again, or 'The Demon River' as my father liked to call it. A smile spreads itself across my lips at that small thought. I looked into my cup, then bringing it to my lips, finishing it. I let out a small sigh, sad that my morning time has to come to an end. So to end it on a sweeter note (pun intended) I tilted the cup all the way back, indulging on the sugar that had slightly collected at the bottom.

    I walk back to the small table, setting down the cup. I let my fingers run across he smooth surface before letting them locate the small metal bell atop the table. With the flick of my wrist the bell rings, twice loudly, once softly, like a sad song coming to an end. The maid knocked softly before opening the heavy door, a deep maroon dress with endless ruffles and pleats draped across her arms. 

"You've brought my favorite Miss. Dyna." I smile again, a mysterious spark taking light in my crimson eyes. But that spark soon fades to embers when I see the tailor behind her. 
"Hello Mrs. Holian." I say as politely as I possibly could, while thinking of many other ways of greeting her, none of eh men very lady-like. 

"Hellow Alycia!" The heavy German accent slurred the proper greeting, followed by a very un-mannarly embrace from the robust woman. 

"Mrs. Holian, you must really learn how to pronounce proper English, it's 'Hello Alice' not some mangled dog drowning in the Thames!" I hiss at the red haired woman. She cringes a bit in response, taking a step away from me. 

"I'ma sorie." She said, using her best English. I let out a soft sigh. "Let's get done with this shall we?" I stepped into the short stool, Mrs. Holian taking the measuring tapes from her bag. 

    After about an hour of winching and pulling, I've finally finished with the fitting and have made my way into the maroon dress. I had always looked forward to Sunday's. Our family may be Catholic, but I had my own way of praising our lord. I walk quickly to the thing I treasure most, tracing my fingers along the instrument. I pick it up, looking at the back of the instrument. The hand carved designs standing out boldly from the plain design of a regular violin. I look at the designs, they vary from wild horses with manes flowing in the wind behind them, to tumbling waves, crashing with tremendous force. I pick up the bow, running the pads of my fingers along the horse hair, always smooth. 

    I make my way downstairs, violin and bow in hand. I quicken my pace a little seeing that my tutor was already there. He hands me 3 pages, those pages worn from my constant use, but with a language written on them. The loveliest of languages. 

    "You always add your own flavour to it Miss. Aberline. " my tutor coos after practice. I smile, curtseying to him as he left. 

"Mother, Father, I must get prepared for lunch with Henrye." I say, almost running up the stairs, knowing that he will arrive any minute. I hurry into my room, pleased to find Dyna already there waiting for me to change. I let her remove the maroon dress that I cherish so much, putting me into a less elegant (in my opinion) marine blue and ivory silk dress. It had less than half the ruffles, but the neck of the dress was so high, it threatened to stab into my neck if I slouched in the slightest. 

    Lunch passes by quicker than I had expected. I wave to the carriage at it pulls away with Henrye safe inside. I turned to face my brother. "Alexander, would you mind escorting me to my room?" I questioned him, admiring his natural platinum blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. 

"Of course sister. " a smile plastered on his face. He may be older than me, and I may be only 16, but he has and always will, treat me like a child. He hooked his elbow through mine as we walked up the wide spiral staircase, my hand trailing along the rail. 

    Once we reached my room, I offered him a seat next to me on my bed. Which he gladly took. "How are the piano lessons going for you?" My body relaxes, along with my voice. 

"Well, I have started to compose, and I hope that me might play together in the near future. " he let out a happy sigh. 'That would be nice' I think to myself. He then stood suddenly, brushing his large hands across his pants legs. "I must be off, I too, have a date with my fiancée. " he smiled again and walked out of my room. I walked to the window and watched him emerge from our house, stepping into the carriage with more grace than that of a proper lady. His butler closed the door after him, signalling the coach to go onward. I watched the carriage fade into the distance, along with the familiar clopping of hooves against the cobblestone. 

    Night had fallen and my brother had still not returned. I had begun to worry, wouldn't anyone in their right mind?  Even though I was well aware that he was 2 years older than me and could fully take care of himself, I still felt the need to go look for him. I grabbed my umbrella, not taking any chances with the rain, and headed downstairs. "Mother, Father, I'm going out." I told them quickly. 
"That's alright darling, but where to?"
"Henrye's manor. " I lied, already feeling the guilt sink in. 
"Alright, let me fetch a carriage." Father said.
I laughed nervously. "Oh, that won't be necessary. I can walk, I increased by an inch around my waist so if I walk, I can surely loose that." At least that wasn't a lie. 
"Alright dear, be careful out there." Mother purred. 
"Sure thing Mother." I smiled and walked out of the house, opening the umbrella.

    Initially I was walking towards Henrye's house, but after a few blocks I walked into the towards the centre of London. The commoners shops and inns were bustling with activity. Everyone seemed so cheerful. And then I made a mistake. I had decided to take a peek inside one of the inns through the window, but what I saw, I could have never prepared myself for. There he sat, women of all sorts surrounding him, The high table overflowing with mugs of ale. He let out a deep chuckle, one I had just heard at lunch when I was complaining about Mrs. Holian, one that had been making me smile since I was betrothed to him. 

    As my father always said 'Curiosity killed the cat.' I realised what my curiosity has killed. It had killed my ability to love. I quickly covered my mouth with my hand to silence my gasp, dropping my umbrella. In that moment, my fiancée saw me, fear struck in his eyes. I shook my head, it couldn't be true. I turned and ran. I didn't care where I was going, all I knew was that I needed to get away.

    I had ran a good mile or two, I was now close to the London wall. My home, the one filled with laughter and safety was so far away. I slowed my pace and walked into an alley, leaning against the sturdy brick, sinking to my knees. I let my tears take control. 

    I didn't know how long I had been there, but the moon was high in the sky. I reached above me, a purplish glow surrounding my outstretched hand. I wondered what it would be like to forget everything and start a-new. I let my hand fall to the ground, only to be greeted by a comforting vibration, a heartbeat, and fur. The cat leaned into me, it's sleek grey coat and bright green eyes seeming like the only thing that mattered. I lifted the cat, which was lighter than I thought. I held it close to my chest. It continues its vibrating melody as I stood, walking sluggishly. It still purred when I quickened my pace away from the inn where I lost my hope. It still purred when I stopped in front of my home, the aura of heat engulfing it.

     I turned, the world around me was on fire. My home, the very thing I had hoped to come back to and be comforted by, was burning. My mouth opened to let screams escape, the shrill sound tearing through the night sky. All sound flooded back to me, I was no longer aware of just me, but everything. The sounds of mothers calling for lost children, men howling in pain, and babies, crying helplessly. I dropped the cat, which quickly ran off. I ran inside me home. I clutched my stomach, trying to not allow my nerves to get to me, but that was impossible. I screamed for my father, my mother, Dyna, anyone. But there was no one. No answer. I took a deep breath, hoping for the sweet earth fragrance that was supposed to be there, but instead was assaulted by ash. Burning, scratching, like a feral animal trying to claw its way out of a cage. This time the cage was my lungs. I ran up the stairs and opened the door to my room, hoping to find someone. But my hopes were once again, demolished. Tears flooded my already blurry vision, my bedroom was almost completely engulfed in flames. But I saw a path, and I took it. 

    I grabbed the violin case, grateful that for once I had put the violin and bow inside for once. It was the one thing I knew I could still love. I turned to leave, but my dress had snagged on something, rafters above me moaned in agony before letting go of their place, smashing inches away from me. I took the leverage of the dress, and ripped it. I didn't care about being lady-like in a time like this. I ran out of the door, stairs collapsing as I took my last steps down them. What laid before me I could never forget. My father sprawled across the railing, eyes wide with fear, mouth open in an eternal scream. My mother, reaching for him, outstretched hand limp on the floor. 

    They were dead. That sudden realisation hit me, and it shook me to my bones. I let the sorrow sink in as I ran, my hair coming loose from its usual bun. The coloured platinum blonde had been tainted ashen with soot and rubble. I turned to look at the town, the fire was laughing. It's eyes twinkling with malicious glee. In the corner of my vision, I saw the fire brigade, only a handful of people. They had leather buckets and axes. They were desperately filling bucket after bucket with water from the Thames, transferring form person to person before finally being slashed onto the burning building. The fire only grew stronger. It's laugh shook London as it spread from thatch roof to thatch roof. I knew their efforts would have little effect, but I couldn't tell them, my voice wouldn't come. I ran towards them, shaking my head and pointing towards the docks. They instead ushered me to the docks and continues their nearly meaningless work. I ran towards the docks, helping anyone I could long the way. 

    At the docks I looked for my brother, but the silence was deafening. Screams came from distant places. The sounds of suffering came from everywhere but the docks. I couldn't just stand around, but I wasn't sure if I could do anything. So I did the one thing I knew I could, I played. I used the screams and wails as a tempo, the sound of the violin joining the chaos. Music is my heartbeat, but this, I could never forget this piece. This was and echo of agony. The opposite of the music I had grown so accustomed to. But in a way, this was a song. The high notes of the screaming, the low notes of sobs. It was perfect agony. It was the song of London. 

    The fire lasted for three days. 13,200 some homes were lost, including my own. 87 churches, including St.Pauls. But amazingly only 6 were counted dead. Half of that count was my family. My mother, my father, and my brother. All dead. I lost everything. They never found my house servants and were presumed dead, but never confirmed. Life after the fire was hard, I ended up having to marry immediately to Henrye. The man who had betrayed me on the night that started it all. The fire and started late into the hour of midnight on Sunday September 2nd 1666. 

    An investigative team came in and found the start of the fire. It had started on Pudding St. in the Royal bakery. My family's home was four streets away from Pudding St. So our house was taken quickly by the fire. I had retraced my steps after everything was finished. After I ran from the inn, I ended up in Lothbury St. Which was ironically close to Henrye's manor. My family was asleep when Thames St. was set aflame. I married Henrye on September 8th, the wedding was held in the Moor Fields. Most of the guests were amazed of our union so soon after such a tragedy.i did it out of spite for my family. Henrye's manor was untouched by the fire. So that's where I lived. 

    That cat, the one that had lead me home, found me on my wedding day. I had taken it as my own. In a way that cat was my family. It had been with me in the beginning and came back at the bitter end. I named it "Ciel" which happens to be the French word for "Sky". The name was ironic because it wasn't until I looked into the sky and realised that I had no hope. The fire brigade was finally able to stop the fire after the kind allowed the use of explosives. They cleared the fires path and it ran out of fuel. Some families lost their home, others lost their most prized possession. It took years for London to be restored to its proper glory. In those years, I became a mother. I gave birth to a beautiful boy. Henrye Alexander Vincent Aberline. I was the last of my family so I kept my maiden name through the marriage. 

    During the recovery, which happened to start on my wedding day, they took my parents, and with that, I became the head of the Aberline family. The only proof of that was my families rings. One of them gold with our clans crest on it. The other, my mother's wedding ring. The sapphire and lapis gems staring back at me. 

    It was quite upsetting for my family when I was born. I looked nothing like them. My hair was starch white, my eyes a vibrant red. The doctors said it was called "Albinism". Even though it had a name, I was still accused of being a witch. Silly, right?
Once a month, my mother would dye my hair with henna to make it platinum blonde like the rest of the family members'. But with their loss, I saw no use. I let my hair grow, the white slowly replacing the blonde I had cherished so much. My son did not inherit my white hair, but the platinum blonde I had wished for him to have. He was also blessed with th emerald green eyes from my husband. 

    In time I forgave my husband. But as the years faded, my memory of my family did too. I had forgotten what they sounded like. Soon I forgot what they looked like. I sat at the piano, trying to force myself to remember my brother at least. But nothing came but tears. 
"Mummy, why are you crying?" My boy had questioned, the emerald green eyes sparkling with curiosity. 
"Mommy was just forgetting something very important." I said softly, wiping try tears that had made their way down my cheeks. Henrye-Alexander climbed onto the piano bench, sitting on his knees and facing me. He placed his small hands on my cheeks. It was so adult like of him, even though he was only 5. 
"Don't cry Mummy." he said, a sympathetic smile across his face. He then took his hands from my face and reached into his pocket. "Daddy told me to give this to you if I ever saw you crying." He had something clasped in his hands. "Close your eyes." He said, sitting up on his knees. I closed my eyes, but the tears still streamed down my face. I felt something cold, something smooth, touch my neck. I heard the bench creak, telling me that he was sitting on his feet again. "You can open your eyes now Mummy!" He said cheerfully. I opened my eyes and looked down. 

    There, dangling from a silver chain, was a locket. The locket, like the chain, was sliver, flowers, roses to be specific, had been carved into it. I gently lifted my hands to hold it. My trembling hands fumbled with the small clasp, finally it opened. Inside was a cameo of my mother and father, together, like they always should be. And on the other side, was a cameo of my brother. I smiled, even though my vision was blurry with tears, I managed to close the locket before my tears stained the picture. I turned to see my husband leaning in the doorway, I was utterly speechless. 

"H-how?" I stammered. He came to me then, wrapping his arms around me. 

"Don't think about it too much." He said. Henrye-Alexander eagerly joined the embrace, wrapping his small arms around be the best he could. Choking back sobs, I could only say two words.

                "T-thank you."

Curiosity killed the cat
But satisfaction brought it back.