Chasey did’t know what to think. “What image, mother?” she asked with trepidation, fearing the answer she heard would match the horror tale running through her mind right now.

Lena turned away from her daughter. “Six years after you were born,” she spoke with hollow words, “I saw your image appear in his face again. I thought perhaps you were to have a sister, so your father and I gave ourselves to each other for a year and a half.” She sighed as she became lost in the memory. “It was a lovely time, but a frightening one as well. Try as we might, we simply could not conveive and bring her out. She began to get angry, but your father was able to keep control.”

Taking a deep breath, Lena turned to face her daughter and continued. “Until one night. We wanted to try something unusual and sent you to spend the night at your friend, Melia’s home. Without going into intimate details, to my shame we tried something very different. Your image in him became so angry that he became violent. He killed a young woman that night, but I started to feel strange, and sick.”

“It turned out we did conceive that night, but after carrying her for just over five months, I lost her. The image inside your father lost control and he stormed off, just to show up dirty and stinking of booze in a village three days away.”

Chasey was stunned to hear of her father like this. She had always looked up to him, for he was good to them. She did recall a time, back as a child, when he disappeared for a while. There were rumors that he fled because of grief. Other rumors that he had been jailed for starting a fight. Still others mentioned that he had killed himself due to shame. But these all proved to be false, as he returned after some intervention from a few of his friends.

“When he came home, that was when he opened the tavern. Mixing and serving drinks to folks to cure whatever ailments they had. If they were in pain, he had a cure for that. If they needed a friend to listen to their problems, he was there. If someone had something to celebrate, drinks were on the house. And from the day he returned, the image never graced his face again.”

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