The morning light
spilled unevenly through the tattered curtains of Maryanne's small apartment.
Anne Faith gurgled from her crib. And Marietta tugged at Maryanne's sleeve with
the impatient energy of a child already too aware of the world's dangers.
Maryanne ran a
hand through her hair and bent to gather them. "Breakfast, then
relaxation," she whispered, her voice tight, always alert for threats.
She'd learned vigilance meant survival and spent nights replaying nightmares
and encounters with the Crowned-Deep, so she could protect these two from the
shadows beyond safety.
It wasn't easy.
Some days, Maryanne felt like a shell, haunted by visions and whispers in the
dark. Yet she was patient, careful, her trauma shaping her strength—a silent,
calculating resilience. She was a protector who survived something monstrous.
She taught the girls to be cautious, never revealing the terrors she'd faced.
Years blurred by,
and the nursery had long been abandoned. It was replaced by a cramped study
filled with journals, trinkets, and artifacts. Maryanne had collected over the
years; her daughters were no longer babies anymore.
On a rainy
afternoon, the girls found themselves alone in Maryanne's study. Dust motes
danced in the pale light, and the smell of old paper filled the air. Marietta's
hand hovered over a leather-bound diary that Maryanne had left ajar.
"Look what I
found... Mom keeps secrets!" Marietta whispered, her voice a mix of excitement
and apprehension. Anne Faith peered over her sister's shoulder, wide-eyed.
Maryanne, across
the room, pretended to be busy organizing shelves, but her ears were sharp. She
had learned long ago that curiosity was both a gift and a threat. Her diary,
her most private record, contained her personal notes on The Crowned Deep and
The Covenant of the Drowned. The enduring evil she had battled. She withheld
it.
They recall
Maryanne's rules, "Never go through my stuff without my permission." Maryanne's
voice echoes in their minds. "One day, when you grow up, I'll tell you girls
just how important love is." "Love is as vast as the ocean, as deep as the
abyss."
But the girls
were persistent. Fingers trembling with both fear and exhilaration, Marietta
traced the words she could just make out, reading aloud passages that made Anne
Faith gasp.
"...The water
will remember them. Those who are claimed will never truly leave, and the
covenant watches with patience older than the town itself..."
Maryanne's chest
tightened, a familiar tension she had learned to wear like armor.
Maryanne crossed
into the room in a few long strides, stoic but not angry. "You two need to
understand one thing," she said, kneeling to meet their eyes. "The world isn't
safe. There are things that wait in the water, in the dark corners of memory,
and in the hearts of strangers. You need to be ready—but you'll never be
alone... Ever."
The girls
exchanged a look, a mixture of fear and excitement. This was only the
beginning. Marietta and Anne Faith were learning the ropes, discovering the
threads of a legacy that Maryanne had fought to protect, and unknowingly
stepping closer to the truths that had haunted their family for generations.
And in the quiet
of the study, the diary remained open on the desk, the words of The
Crowned-Deep waiting to be understood.