Edmund wrote his mother’s directions down on a scrap of paper. He didn’t much hold with fancy smartphones. It was something he and Andria had in common.
She could tell him the way to the gypsy caravan without a moment’s thought, though she hadn’t been there in years herself.
“Always be reverent,” she warned him. “No matter how rude and condescending they are. They talk down to us because they are powerful enough to do whatever they like, and they know it. But they’re not entirely capricious. They’ll listen to you, and they might help.”
Edmund rehearsed what he was going to say many times before he knocked at the door. If he was lucky, the fae — his mother’s people — would recognize him as their own. If he wasn’t, what did he have to lose? Did he have anything to lose?
“You have much to learn, and clearly your mother is not going to teach you,” they said. “We will answer your questions, but we will do it in our own time. Until then, you will learn what we want to teach you.”
Edmund could not have wished for more.
“It’s sweet of you to make me hot cocoa!” Victoria told him that evening. “You’re not usually the most domestic kind of guy.”
“I’m very good and putting mugs in the new hot beverage machine and pushing the ‘cocoa’ button,” Edmund said.
“I’m not sure, but it seems like you might want to talk about something,” Victoria said.
“You’re right,” Edmund said. “You’re a lot better with people than I am.”
Vickie raised her eyebrows. “I think you might be the first person who actually thinks I’m good with people.”
“I want to help someone, but I don’t know if she wants my help,” Edmund said. “I’m nervous about asking her, but at this point I need her to work with me.”
Victoria took a long sip of cocoa. “I’m really not that good with people,” she said.
“Maybe it’s just that I’m so very bad at it,” Edmund said darkly.
“I can listen, though,” Victoria said. “I mean, if you want to work through your ideas for how to talk to her.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Edmund said.
The following evening, he knocked nervously on the door of a Victorian bungalow.
He had spent many long nights of research simply tracking down where she lived. He had no idea how she would react when she saw him.
Marisela Flynn was in front of his eyes so fast that Edmund wasn’t sure whether had blinked too long or she bewitched him.
“We seem to keep finding each other,” she said, eyeing him. “But this doesn’t seem to be happenstance.”
Edmund swallowed. “I want to help you,” he said.
“You think I need help?” she asked, raising an arched eyebrow.
Edmund forced himself to look her straight in her sinister, luminescent eyes. “Can you tell me you don’t?”
Her lips twitched. “Touché. What, exactly, makes you think you have some way to help me?”
“I don’t know, but I think I might,” he said. “Can you trust me?”
“Trust,” she said slowly. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time. I’ll follow where you lead and won’t hurt you, for now, if that’s the assurance you need.”
He led her back the way he’d come that morning, but as they drew closer to the fae caravan, Marisela slowed down.
“The fae are the enemy of my kind. Do you want to get me killed?” she demanded.
“You have my protection,” Edmund said with more confidence than he felt.
Marisela chucked darkly. “Well, that settles all my worries.”
“Please sit down,” Edmund said, gesturing at an ornate table that held a huge crystal ball.
“Are you going to tell my fortune,” Marisela asked.
“No,” Edmund retorted, “but I might learn something to help your future. Please let me concentrate.”
Then he fumbled his first burst of magic and nearly dropped the priceless magical artifact on the ground. Keep it together, he warned himself silently. Please keep it together.
Marisela was abruptly riveted by the orb. “I can see my father!” she whispered.
“He’s your sire,” Edmund said. “It’s because of him that you are a vampire.”
“He wanted an enforcer for his battle with his ancient nemesis,” Marisela said bitterly. “My father has been at war with another vampire for control of the underworld for generations. I wouldn’t help him. Now I’m alone.”
“Think about him,” Edmund instructed, growing more confident. “He’s your tie to the undead. I have to learn about that connection.”
“That’s not hard,” Marisela said darkly. “I spend most of my time thinking about him.”
They stared at the orb in silence for a long time. Mists swirled within it. Sparks flew around it.
At last he let it fall back to its cradle and stood up. His dragon flew down to rest on his arm, squawking fondly. He stroked her scaly head thoughtfully.
“Are we done here?” Marisela asked. “Did you learn what you need to know?”
“I’ve learned all I can,” Edmund said.
“Do you still think you can help me?” Marisela asked, her voice carefully neutral.
“Maybe,” Edmund admitted. “But we won’t know until I try. Do you want me to try?”
Marisela didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
So, it’s been a long time. I hope it won’t be so long until the next post. I know at least one person is still reading!
It’s been a really difficult year. It seems like life has been one drama after another, and there hasn’t been emotional energy for anything creative. It feels good to want to do something. I miss my Sims.
I’m still reading — the one that read the WHOLE thing a few weeks ago! I got really excited when I saw the email!
I’m sorry you’re having a bad year. Is it a control issue? I always feel terrible when things are out of my control.
I’m so glad you are reading this long blog! I don’t know if you saw my reply to your earlier comment, but it really made my day, and maybe it pulled me back to writing again. It’s just so exciting to know that someone wants to read this stuff :).
YAY! An update! 😀 I’ve missed you!
Thank you. I can’t believe anyone noticed that I posted. It’s so good to see you guys.
It’s so good to see you, too! <3 I was really delighted when you came up in my reader.
So glad you’ve got enough energy coming back to feel like you want to do something, it sounds like a really draining year.
It is so cool how you have the gypsy caravan on the shore there, and there’s a lot of fun Samples here- like the funny part about making cocoa and the plot thickening around Marisela and Edmund. Her backstory is really fascinating and tragic sounding, and I love how Edmund confronted her so gently at the door.
It was so nice to read a new chapter of the Samples! However I’m not sure I remember well what’s going on in their lives now… What happened to Marisela? Or better, what is it that Edmund wants to help her with? I’ve completely forgotten he had a dragon!
Yike! This comment was from so long ago! I don’t know if you subscribe to comment replies, but here goes….
Marisela Flynn is Sean Flynn’s daughter. If you remember way back, Sean Flynn is Forest Sample’s nemesis/boyfriend. Flynn (and Forest) are vampires. In this story (unlike default Sims), no children are born as vampires, but Sean Flynn turned Marisela so that she could take over the family business. She is a vampire but doesn’t want to be, and Edmund is cautiously trying to help her become human. Except they’re both kind of talking around it because it’s such a big subject.
Sorry to be confusing!
Don’t worry about the late reply, Susan! (I get notifications of your comments both in mail and the Reader). It’s been more than a month since my last update of the Loewe legacy so I feel a bit ashamed as well… In fact, my story is on a hiatus right now, however, I was able to at least finish Chapter Three dedicated to the 3rd generation before taking a break from simming. Thank you so much for explaining this to me. There were some longer intervals between your latest posts and my catching up, so I have forgotten some of the details of the plot…
I miss the Samples a lot and hopefully I will be able to read some of your new chapters! Hope you had a great Christmas and I wish you all the best for the 2018!!! <3