Blue Flame

Robert was from a wealthy and respectable family. He had fought during the English civil war as an infantry officer in Oliver Cromwell’s Roundheads. His father was a minister at York Abbey, and after witnessing many bloody battles, Robert knew he wanted to follow his father’s example and serve God within the clergy. He returned to York after the war ended when he was seventeen. His father used his influence to push his son through the ranks to a junior ministerial position within York Abbey. Robert had suffered headaches throughout his childhood and heard incoherent voices when nobody was there, especially on the battlefield. Unable to understand why, and afraid to seek advice for fear of being accused of being cursed, he ignored it. Robert was a handsome young man but his ashen complexion gave him a ghostly appearance.

Everything changed on his eighteenth birthday when his headaches became severe and the voices became louder, although still a myriad of sounds, he heard cries for help and could sense despair. Everybody now seemed bathed in a white light, apart from him, who glowed with the colours of the rainbow. This terrified Robert and convinced he was a warlock, feared for his life. Robert altered overnight, becoming reclusive and no longer attending the clergy or fulfilled his duties, spending his time in his room alone which disturbed his respectable parents.

Robert went out most evenings, strolling along smoggy, cobbled city streets of York, amongst the hustle and bustle of street vendors, entertainers, and taverns. Although different from his sheltered religious upbringing, the streets seemed to beckon him. He knew he would find something there, but did not know what.

It was on one of these nightly excursions when he met Elizabeth cooking at a small street vendor’s stall,

“Can I tempt you to some lovely tripe and onions, Robert?” She smiled.

“What!” exclaimed Robert, taken aback how she knew his name, as he had never laid eyes on the girl before. Robert saw a crimson aura surrounding her and realised that she was also different.

Robert returned to her stall every night to see the pretty brunette with rosy cheeks that seemed to glow against her pale skin. Elizabeth instigated the courtship and asked him to take her out, which in those days was unheard of, and she could have ended up in prison or far worse. Robert became intrigued and besotted with Elizabeth, who was almost 19-years-old.

“We are special my love.” She’d told Robert. “We are Chosen-ones, and when we find our portal, thou will be the Keeper, and I will be thy Guide.”

This always confused Robert, but he accepted her strange behaviour because he was in love and wanted to marry Elizabeth. His parents wouldn’t give their consent to this union until Robert announced Elizabeth was pregnant. His parent, although outraged, went ahead with the marriage with it being inconceivable to have a child out of wedlock. Not only would it have destroyed the family’s reputation but also they didn’t want to upset Robert’s uncle, as this man terrified people. His uncle was Mathew Hopkins, known throughout England as the Witch Finder General. Robert and Elizabeth married straight away and lived in a cobblestone cottage on his parent’s estate.

Elizabeth, now seven months pregnant, looked radiant, and Robert looked forward to the birth of their first child.

One evening as the pair chatted by candlelight, Robert felt a sharp pain in his head. Elizabeth, knowing of the headaches, reassured him they would go when the time was right, explaining that she too used to get them, and it was only restless spirits trying to contact him.

“They get worse,” said Robert groaning and glancing over at his wife, who appeared to be talking into a large flickering blue flame by the wall.”

After squinting through the pain for a few minutes, his headache stopped and he looked at Elizabeth smiling at him.

He looked at the wall, but the flame had gone and feeling bewildered he looked at his wife, whose crimson aura now had a faint multi-coloured glow surrounding her stomach.

“My love, I must go,” said Elizabeth.

“What?” asked Robert, taken aback, “Go where?”

“I need to prepare for our eternal task ahead.” She said, with calmness in her voice.

Robert stammered, “I don’t understand. Thou art my wife and I forbid thee to go anywhere. What about our child?”

“Goodbye my love, don’t worry, I will see thee soon, and we will all be together,” said Elizabeth, who smiled and closed her eyes,

“What’s happening? Elizabeth, open thy eyes, I want to talk to thee,” said Robert, frowning.

Elizabeth’s body juddered and then convulsed.

“Elizabeth, Elizabeth!” shouted Robert. His eyes widened as he rushed over to his wife as her crimson aura faded.

It took over an hour for a doctor and midwife to arrive on horseback and looked at each other in astonishment when the midwife delivered a healthy baby boy from Elizabeth’s body.

Elizabeth’s death devastated Robert. He spent days and sometimes weeks in bed, ignoring everyone. He never acknowledged his son, refusing to give the child a name and blaming the infant of killing his beloved Elizabeth.

Several years passed and the reclusive Robert stayed alone in his cottage while his parents raised his son, who they named him William.

Late one night while Robert lay in bed watching the candle flicker, staring as the flames went through their nightly dance. He rubbed his temples, “Argh, damn these headaches,” he said aloud.

Closing his eyes as the pain intensified, he smelt Tripe and Onions. Robert felt confused as a large flickering blue flame appeared by the side of the candle with a crimson apparition swirling at its centre. Robert sat up in bed and stared wide-eyed at the light, which got brighter. Then a familiar voice said, “Robert, my love, I haven’t got long to explain. Thee must come and find me and our portal, so we can all be together.”

“Elizabeth” he gasped, startled by the apparition which became clear and he could now see Elizabeth smiling at him.

“I don’t understand. Where art thou? Am I dreaming?” spluttered Robert.

Elizabeth put her arms out and repeated, “My love, thee must come and find me and our portal. It is close by.”

Robert looked agog as the apparition faded, but he felt euphoric and no longer in pain.

After his contact with Elizabeth’s spirit and although he thought it was a dream, Robert knew that he needed to find the portal that Elizabeth told him about, praying that if he found it, he would see her again. He scoured the Yorkshire countryside on horseback for several weeks.

One warm clear night, he came across a large circular clearing within a dense forest area of Clifton Moor. The large patch of ground seemed out of place amongst the woodland, but Robert felt drawn to this area and dismounted. Robert led his horse out of the woods and went over to the circular area. He saw rocks assembled in neat rows around the circle, with a large scorched area in its centre.

Robert cringed, ‘A witch’s coven,’ he thought, ‘Damn, I did not know witches were in this area?’

He turned around, grabbed the horse’s reins, and as he placed his foot in the stirrup, a sharp pain shot through his head.

‘Argh, not now,’ he thought, as the pain intensified.

“Robert, Robert!” said a familiar voice behind him. He removed his foot from the stirrup and swung around.

In the centre of the circle, a vivid blue flame flickered around a figure bathed in a crimson glow. Although unable to make out any distinctive features, he recognised the voice. He dropped to his knees and stared into the light.

“Elizabeth, Elizabeth,” he wailed.

“Robert, thee has found our home,” said Elizabeth, with her soothing voice comforting Robert, and the pain in his head stopped as she continued. “I have a lot to teach thee my love, but first, thee must build protection around our portal and bring our son to make our family complete.”

Robert gazed into the portal feeling euphoric. He saw Elizabeth’s shimmering apparition and went over to the portal and she warned him. “Do not enter the portal my love.”

Robert stopped and gazed at his wife. In a dreamy daze, he looked at his body now glowing with colours, and as he gazed at his hands, he screamed “But how? What is this sorcery? I am cursed.”

Elizabeth giggled and said, “Thou art not cursed my husband, what thee is seeing is thy aura.”

Elizabeth explained a little over the next hour, and Robert, with his new understanding, left the portal to start with his task ahead.

Over the next few months, Robert worked tirelessly. With his parents’ money and a few overpaid builders from the nearby town, he built a thatched-roofed cottage on the patch of land surrounding the portal. Robert designed the cottage so the portal would appear in a corner of a room on the ground floor, which would be his bedroom. Even though his parents were concerned about Williams’s safety, they allowed Robert to take his son. Robert and William moved into the cottage and the three of them lived there undisturbed.

The Potts reared livestock and grew fruits and vegetables, which kept them isolated from the outside world. Elizabeth’s spirit taught Robert about the world she now inhabited. She explained about the *Gift and advised him how to use his Keeper’s power wisely to protect the portal and help lost souls enter the afterlife. Robert then taught his son and William grew up believing that it was normal for his father to speak to an area of his bedroom, and, even though he saw nothing, he believed his father when said he was speaking with his mother. Robert schooled him, and they worked and lived off their land. Robert walked to Radcliff town several times a month for supplies. The townsfolk were always suspicious and afraid of the Potts family. However, knowing who Robert’s uncle was, they did not want to risk their being accused of sorcery and burned at the stake, so they ignored the Potts.

* * *

William first encountered his mother on his 18th birthday. He was reading a manuscript by candlelight on a chilly winter’s evening when he felt a sharp pain in his head. He screamed as he saw multi-coloured lights envelop him and he rushed into his father’s bedroom.

“Father, Father, look at my body, it …”

William gasped and stood in awe at the sight in front of him as a warm blue flame filled the corner of the room, with a shimmering crimson figure at its centre.

He couldn’t make out any features, however, he felt euphoric, and the pain in his head went, leaving just a warm narcotic feeling. His father stood to the side of the blue flame and, with his multi-coloured aura radiating, he smiled and announced, “William, meet thy mother.”

Over the next few years, they lived as a complete, although strange, family.

Elizabeth instructed William to find a wife who would be his Guide when he was twenty-one-years-old. She told him that it was time for his joining and said where he would find his Chosen-one.

William found his Guide, a girl named Rebecca. She was 16, and in jail in the village of Woodford awaiting trial for witchcraft. He instantly fell in love with her and using his elderly uncle’s influence had Rebecca released. Rebecca and William married and she moved into the Potts cottage where shortly after they had a daughter who was a Keeper.

Robert died at 65-years-old. His and Elizabeth’s spirits continued to teach William until he and Rebecca died. Elizabeth and Robert went to the afterlife while William and Rebecca’s spirits taught their children and grandchildren, continuing with the bloodline throughout the ages.

* * *

Centuries passed, with roads now built around the area of the Potts secluded thatched-roofed cottage.

The portals previous Keeper and Guide, Jack and Pearl Potts, had not updated the cottage for many years and had remained reclusive during their lives there, preferring to keep away from the towns populous. Pearl, the Keeper, was a cheerful woman with many friends, although very few in the mortal world. Jack, the Guide, on the other hand, was a grumpy old sod, who grumbled most of the time.

Church’s father, Churchill Potts senior, never acquired the gift, so when he was 17-years-old he joined the army, where he met and married June, a civilian teacher at his barracks. They distanced themselves from Pearl and Jack as their weird ways scared June. They moved into a modern detached house in York city centre, where their only son was born in 1965. They named him Churchill, the same as his father, who his father, Jack, had named him after his hero Winston Churchill, so Churchill senior also gave the odd name to his son.

Pearl and Jack had no contact with Churchill senior or June for many years but went to the hospital when June was in labour. Pearl told her son that her grandson would have the gift, and it would be powerful. Churchill Senior didn’t want to know and was uninterested.

Several years later Jack passed away. Churchill senior, not wanting to lose his inheritance, reunited Pearl with his family.

Church’s childhood was far from normal, spending his weekends with his grandmother Pearl at her old cottage. Granny Pearl lived alone after Jack passed away, although she told Church that she spoke to Jack every night and he would one day meet his grandpa Jack. Church grew close to his grandmother and loved spending weekends and holidays at the cottage, although it always smelled of Brussels sprouts. It felt comfortable and homely to Church, who went to primary school in York but found it difficult to make friends with the other kids wary of his strange behaviour. Granny Pearl had told him that he had a special gift and although he considered this special gift a pain in the arse, he preferred to spend time with her as opposed to other kids. The countryside surrounding the cottage was picturesque and alive with wildlife going about their daily ramblings. It was a grand adventure for a curious, solitary little boy.

Young Church could not understand why he was different. His blinding headaches, voices, and pallid complexion gave his teachers cause for concern, and they pressured his parents to seek help. Churchill senior and June persuaded them that he had a hereditary disorder and that it was nothing to worry about, they now distanced themselves from Church.

* * *

Granny Pearl died when Church was fifteen-years-old and bequeathed the cottage to him for his 18th birthday. He felt lonely without Granny Pearl, but she had told him that he would see her again and for reasons unbeknownst to him, he believed her.

Pearl left strict instructions the cottage remained sealed until then, and only when Church moved in, would his parents get their inheritance.

When Granny Pearl died, the lawyer from Mason & Mason, an old family lawyer for Pearl and Jack, gave Church an ancient key on a silver chain and told him to keep it safe until his eighteenth birthday. Church hung the key chain around his neck.

During the eighties, while the other kids grew up around discotheques and Duran-Duran, Church, stayed home alone, with his strange erratic behaviour making him an outcast.

Church finished school when he was 16 with no ambitions or future direction. His mother and father accepted this and ignored him as he rarely left his room. On the eve of his 18th birthday, Church’s life changed and he awoke with a sharp pain in his temples. He had never experienced such intense pain. He sat up in bed, squeezed his hand against his head, and through the pain noticed a vivid column of blue flame. His pain subsided and he stared at the plume as it increased in size. Something else illuminated his senses; the familiar smell of Brussels sprouts. He watched in awe as the myriad of colours took shape. An unfocused human bathed in multi-coloured flames formed within the centre of the column and a familiar voice that he had not heard for three years, said, “Hello Churchill, you have grown. I don’t have long to talk and I know you feel confused, but when you move into the cottage, all will become clear. I have a lot to teach you.”

“Granny Pearl.” he stammered as the figure became clearer.

“Yes Church, and you have nothing to worry about, your life will be better from now on.”

The figure then faded along with the blue flame; leaving Church bewildered but feeling euphoric. Smiling, he drifted into a blissful slumber.

Churchill senior phoned Mason & Mason solicitors to confirm his son was moving in the following day and wanted his inheritance. The lawyer informed him that it was somewhere in the house and that young Church would know where it was when they got there.

The following morning, Church’s parents woke him early and drove him to the cottage, eager to find their inheritance and settle Church into his new home. Churchill senior had seen his father bringing in small valuable items into the cottage when he was a child and Jack had always told him that one day the Potts treasure would be his.

Church smiled during the brief journey and thought of the fond memories he had of the small thatched-roofed cottage and happy about being able to live there alone. With his parents ignoring him over the past few years he’d become a recluse, but as they approached the cottage, he had a strange feeling he would not be alone for long.

The car pulled up and Church felt the fresh crisp country air of his surroundings on his face. Churchill senior struggled with the old lock and after cursing and grunting, he shoved the door open and they went inside.

“It smells musty,” June grumbled.

Church smelt something else and smiled.

With the cottage sealed and furnishings covered, it had remained in good condition. The Potts removed the cloths and June rushed around and gave the downstairs a cursory clean. The electrical switches and appliances, although archaic, were in working order. Churchill senior arranged for the power supply reconnected and when Jack was alive he had plumbed in a system of pipes from the outside well into the house, so Church had power and fresh running water.

Church looked around smiling; he knew every part of this cottage. Except for one room that Granny Pearl kept locked, he had played around every other part of the cottage as a child.

Churchill senior and June looked anxious, so after June put food and other stuff she had brought with them in the cupboards, his father said,

“Okay son, we want to get back to York, The lawyer said you know where our inheritance was, so if you would give us that, we can be on our way, and we will see you later.”

Church looked puzzled and threw up his hands. “I don’t know where it is?” He said.

His parents glared at him; Church senior sighed and said, “That solicitor’s an idiot and it’s just like mum to give us the run-around. Oh well, I imagine that it is around here somewhere. I suppose we better search.”

“This place gives me the creeps, so I will look outside.” Said June and rushed out.

“I’ll go look upstairs, you look down here,” said Churchill senior.

Church wandered around and felt drawn to the room on the ground floor that Granny Pearl had always kept locked. When young Church had asked why she had always told him it was her and Grandpa Jack’s special room that he could not go in… yet.

Church went over, turned the knob, and opened the door.

He gasped upon entering the room as a vivid blue flame flickered at the centre of the pentagram, with its light filling the corner of the room, and two shimmering apparitions at its centre, one glowed crimson, the other multi-coloured, and the familiar aroma of Brussels sprouts wafted around the room, along with a faint trace of Brylcreem.

“Happy birthday young Churchill,” said a man’s voice, followed by a familiar woman’s voice, “Churchill, meet your Grandpa, Jack.”

Church giggled and said, “Hello Grandpa Jack, and Granny Pearl… Fancy meeting you here.”

Both spirits chuckled. Granny Pearl then said. “Happy birthday Church; we can talk later, but for now, let’s make your parents happy so they will leave and we can begin your tutoring.”

“Your dad always was a greedy, money-grabbing little sod,” interrupted Jack.

“Be quiet Jack, we have to help Church.” Pearl curtly replied.

“You must have been secretly seeing the bloody milkman. Certainly no son of mine,” grumbled Jack.

“Shush stupid,” snapped Pearl. Church looked on at this exchange between the two spirits and chuckled. He knew his life would now change for the better.

Pearl gave Church directions to an area outside the cottage and told him that he would find a chest buried there containing various items. She instructed him on what to give his parents and what he must keep.

Church left the portal room and called his father downstairs. Although he and his father had never spoken about his gift, Churchill senior was aware his parents were different. He also knew his son was different and had the gift, so it did not surprise him when he said that Pearl had told him where she buried their inheritance.

“Okay son. Let’s go find it, but say nothing to June about your grandmother’s ghost.”

Church and his parents found the spot under a large, gnarled oak tree root, marked by a Cross and Rose symbol scorched into the ground. Church dug up an ancient chest, took the ancient key and chain from around his neck, and opened the lock.

The old lid creaked open, and they all peered inside.

Churchill senior and June smiled.

The chest contained various items of gold and silver jewellery adorned with rough-cut precious stones, along with gold coins and ingots.

Churchill senior grinned as he picked up a coin dating back to the 16th century, while June picked up a bejewelled necklace and put it against her neck, getting the nod of approval from her husband.

Church was more interested in an old leather-bound journal he saw at the bottom.

They took the chest into the cottage and laid it on the kitchen table. While June fetched a cold box from the car containing sandwiches and cakes she had brought along, Churchill senior loaded items from the chest into a duffel bag.

Church removed the book and glanced within the pages, made from varying materials, from old parchment to typing paper. The journal, compiled over the centuries by different authors, with the later entries put in by his grandmother, who he knew had an old typewriter.

Once the box was empty, Church locked it and replaced the key around his neck as Pearl had instructed. He placed the chest into an old cupboard in the scullery.

After eating the sandwiches and cakes, Churchill senior announced, “Okay son we will leave you to settle in and until you have a phone installed, I will visit once a week and bring you fresh supplies.”

Church knew they were impatient to leave and go to value and sell their inheritance. “Thanks dad,” he said, happy they were leaving.

“Will you be alright Churchill? You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” said June, sounding concerned.

“I will be fine mum,” Church replied and smiled.

“He’ll be okay, come on let’s go June. We have a lot to do,” said Churchill senior heading for the door.

His parents drove away looking delighted with their newfound wealth.

With his parents gone, Church went to the portal room to learn about the family business.

4

For there is one thing we must never forget; the majority can never replace the man.

The year was 1945. Magnificent buildings that once stood proudly in the opulent city of Berlin now lay in rubble, decimated by an angry world hell-bent on exacting revenge by annihilating the city and making German people atone for the atrocities committed by their country over the past few years.

Although spring was in the air, no aromas of freshly mown grass and fragrant flowers carried on the warm breeze. Instead, the overpowering smells of cordite, napalm, and the vile stench from the charred, rotting corpses, which lay strewn amongst the rubble-filled graveyard of the city.