The Visitor (1)

The village of Kharnam was once a desolate ruin, haunted by a population who could go nowhere but hide within their houses to save their lives. They could not leave the region even if they wanted to, for a supernatural force prevented them from doing so.

But it wasn't always like this.

The region was once known as the Old Hunt Domain, or simply just the Old Domain. It was held by the prestigious family of the same surname a century ago, whose ruined personal domain had now situated to the west of this region, as opposed to the Althorn family's north.

Now that the Hunt family had relinquished control over the region to the royal family, it's simply called the region of Kharnam, named after the humble hamlet that resided within this region. The family itself resided in another new region and hadn't exactly owned a land as large as this one ever since, wanting to instead focus on their duty as a Hunter family.

Ever since her childhood, Marilyn had heard tales of a legendary Hunter from some odd decade ago from this particular family, freeing this region from terror. The entire land was veiled in darkness, a permanent blood moon ever present in the skies. But due to his efforts, it was liberated and saved.

He was also the one who revitalized this region, using his cousin family's wealth to do so. Now it's quite peaceful, despite its rural aesthetic. No wonder her family chose this location to settle down in, though the argument of the land being cheap due the rumours of lasting terror held within was also a very good bargain…for her father at least.

Either he did not care for such rumours or that he was simply not aware is beyond her. But nonetheless...

"Lady Marilyn."

The young lady of white hair and silver eyes soon landed upon the center of the village, meeting face to face with a familiar old man.

"Mr. Bell, glad to see you're doing quite fine," Marilyn said, with a smile.

The old man chuckled, his hunched posture facing towards her. "You've grown up so fast. Honestly, it's quite perplexing. Do you ever plan to study at the capital? Your father was quite excited to tell me about your training, it made me very curious about you!"

"Once I'm seventeen, yeah." She responded, with a nod. "May I ask the whereabouts of my father, though? Or Bethany, for that matter."

"Ah, yes. Robert is currently trekking through the forest. He seemed very eager to find my nephew's lost cat," he said, laughing, sighing afterward. "What a kind man he is."

"As for…?"

"My lady!"

Marilyn was about to ask for the location of her family's maid again, but Bethany herself interrupted the conversation. She seemed a bit older, yet still held the same aesthetic and aura that Marilyn knew all too well since her younger years.

"You've come under my request, yes?"

Marilyn turned to her and nodded. Mr. Bell would just be observing the conversation now. "What would be the matter at hand?" she said to the maid, in a polite manner.

"There's someone who claimed to know you. They wanted to have an audience with you in private, by the hidden lake you and Lady Helena liked to play in."

"Huh?"

Marilyn was caught off guard. In all her ten years, the only people she would know and deem as friends were her older sister, Bethany, and the kids at the village. If it were the latter, it wouldn't make sense for the maid to not even know their name.

After all, Bethany had practically babysat every play date Marilyn and Helena had in this village throughout their childhood. It was a nice memory, but to digress, the situation here was something that Marilyn was unfamiliar with.

Just who was the person trying to claim knowledge of her?

"Can you describe what they looked like?"

Marilyn tried to jog her memory now, attempting to remember every moment in her head that she had experienced. If this plan could indeed work, she would be capable of knowing who this person was.

Bethany seemed confused at the notion but nodded. She tried to get a word out of what this individual looked like, but…

"Bethany?"

"What is it, my lady?"

"Can you describe what they looked like?" she asked again, mildly concerned.

Bethany had simply stopped and stood idle the moment she tried to get a word out. Not even a tilted head to indicate confusion. The maid had simply frozen in place with a neutral expression. It was as if some force was denying her from doing what Marilyn wanted.

"Bethany, can you describe what this person looked like? What do they want of me?" Marilyn's tone became more desperate as this paranormal experience became clearer to her.

But the maid simply stood still, causing even more confusion. The old man who watched the two conversing merely looked onwards, towards the tree line, before looking at Marilyn.

"I think you should just find out yourself, oh Chosen Person."

"What?"

An unfamiliar term caught her eyes and ears. Marilyn stumbled a bit, why would Mr. Bell suddenly call her that?

"Excuse me?"

Bethany stood still, and the world seemed oddly frozen, the air that she breathed felt heavier than before. No one but the three of them was present within this very moment. The old man continued, as if something…or someone, was speaking through him.

"Chosen Person…a mysterious term for you, but one that you should find out the meaning of yourself, correct?" His tone of voice and manner of speech became foreign to her.

Marilyn stood confused, eyes furrowed. She looked towards Bethany, who also turned towards her.

"Head to the hidden glade that you and your sister had chosen as a place to play all those years ago. There you shall find your answers, and so much more."

The two of them, the maid and the village chief, spoke in the same manner and at the same time. It seemed…alien, eldritch even. What kind of force is perpetuating them to do this?

"I…"

Marilyn tried to speak up, but 'Bethany' interrupted her.

"Do not concern yourself, Fate shall be on your side. I would guarantee it."

'Mr. Bell' continued and took over.

"At least, that would be my wish, an educated one, perhaps?"

Marilyn became more panicked, worried, anxious. "Who…are you?"

Her tone indicated her fear over this situation, and both 'Bethany' and 'Mr. Bell' spoke once again.

"Be not afraid, Marilyn Althorn. Find your answers by the hidden glade of Kharnam. There, you shall find solace for your current plight."

Then, the environment would shift once more. The heavy air would calm down, but Marilyn's breathing, and heart rate, raced. Cold sweat overwhelmed her, anxiety filled her head, her hands holding onto the ends of her sleeves, chest held close.

"My lady, what's wrong?"

Bethany tried to ask of her, her eyes seemed worried, very worried.

"Y-you don't know…do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"That…experience, you just had."

Bethany tried to recall…but she had no memory of it. "I am not sure what you're talking about, perhaps you should head back home and we can talk more about this there?"

"My my, this is quite concerning if I say so myself," Mr. Bell retorted, caressing his white and ageing beard.

It seemed like that paranormal moment was out of their minds. Only Marilyn could remember it.

"The person that you mentioned…do you remember them? Can you describe it?"

"I…am not sure what you're talking about, my lady," Bethany said again towards her. "I have no memory of what you're trying to speak of."

Marilyn just gazed downwards. She was shaking, breath seemingly running out. If she hadn't been holding herself for dear life, she could've passed out right there and then.

Just what force is trying to reach her?

"I…I'll go ahead and check for it myself."

"Y-you know I can come with you-" Bethany tried to reach her with a helping hand, but—

Marilyn stopped her, her head turned towards the familiar tree line. "No need, but thank you for your concern, Bethany."

The young lady, and the youngest child of the family, would depart from them. She would head towards the location that had been requested of her to arrive at. Whatever it may be, she would face it. Despite her fear, her worry, she would try to overcome it.

The Visitor, who gained an interest in her personally, had asked her so.