The spirits' gap

On that warm summer night a young lady was desperately looking for answers to a problem that at that time was slowly tormenting her mind.

It was already dark as mentioned, late at night, in a dispersed time between midnight and three, the time gap that according to popular tradition was called the "passage of the spirits", as it was said that in that period of the night the spirits could have better access to the world of the living.

But Phoebe Dustin was not superstitious and did not believe in paranormal events, she had never done so, at least before she herself had the good fortune or misfortune to meet the young Ezekiel Jones, who had awakened an innate interest in the girl.

Zick was no ordinary eleven-year-old, he had always been "special" in a certain way that not even the young lady could explain.

He was often distracted by non-existent things, he claimed to see every evening the shadow of a woman, dressed in white, walking around his room, he heard screams and himself, the young Jones presented aspects that were even too inexplicable for the year 1744.

He was fluent in English, an even older English, and almost by heart he described facts and characters who had lived centuries ago and had already been dead for a long time.

Yes, of course, apart from this Zick was an ordinary eleven-year-old boy, he was interested in ordinary things for his age, he played, wrote, read.

Yet it was strange, because she remembered having read in mysterious supernatural books an event called reincarnation of the spirit, whereby a person who had died many years ago would be reborn years later possessing memories of the past life.

But that event often happened in children under the age of six, while Zick was exactly eleven years old.

He was a mysterious boy and he was strange to say the least, the fact was that, while they were chatting, one day and Phoebe had brought him a portrait of her family, that boy, although never having heard of them he could perfectly describe the names of all those present.

When she asked young Jones where she knew all this, he claimed that the information was given to him by the woman in the white dress who came to visit him at night.

At first Phoebe was amazed because she was certainly sure there was no woman dressed in white like the one the boy described and for the first instinct to fight fear she had imagined that in order to defeat the terror and loneliness of his past that woman could be like an invention of the young lord's imagination.

But it certainly wasn't even possible that he knew so much information, not if he honestly had ever seen or met those people.

Then Zick kept repeating his mother's name obsessively: Azura Hannover, he added it to almost every speech.

Azura Hannover, he had never met her but it was as if it was precisely this air of unknown that seemed to haunt and intrigue the young Zick.

So that same night the young Phoebe Dustin was determined once and for all to find out more about the essence of that woman and to actually understand whether or not Ezekiel Jones lied about her existence.

House Dustin had the advantage of owning one of the largest libraries in the nation and among them, the girl was sure there was also a heraldry book, which together with the coats of arms of the different Houses presented the names of its members, along with their respective paintings.

A large ancient book, this one the young woman had been looking for for almost half an hour.

She was there, in the middle of the dark of the huge room, she was holding an oil lamp in her hands, so together with the thin and white nightgown that for the coolness she tried to tighten around her body.

She walked barefoot on the marble floor so as not to cause noise, although she had to admit that this choice to act was somewhat painful as now her feet were reddened and completely frozen.

Her short blond hair fell to her shoulders disheveled, but despite the fact that it was night and she had already had to sleep for a long time, the young Dustin showed no signs of fatigue.

Her father had been in the war for about ten days now but she had remained there, under the control of Warren Dustin, her uncle, like her being a lady she was not deemed capable of ruling, yet.

Phoebe moved the lantern over all the books, read the titles word by word, leafed through them, and unsuccessfully replaced them, before her gaze fell on one of the books on the top shelf.

"Heraldry and nomenclature of lords and ladies" was the title of that book, accompanied underneath by an unknown heraldic coat of arms, which in any case was little enough to convince the young lady Dustin to choose that book.

It was too high though, so her only chance would have been to climb up and finally discover the truth.

She slowly put the oil lamp, now almost extinguished, on the cold floor and began the climb on the shelves of the old bookcase.

Phoebe was a few steps away from it, but seriously it was on a too high shelf, which even an adult person would have had difficulty collecting.

Just as it was inevitable the heavy and old book fell heavily to the floor, followed by the light body of the girl, creating a great din.

Fortunately, the Phoebe's body was light enough not to hurt excessively and at the same time lucky enough to fall on her butt and not her head.

The big and heavy book had fallen beside her, a few meters from her, creating a new fullness in the night and a mysterious air from the greyish dust that had slowly risen from it.

She took it in her hands, placed it on her lap, it was definitely this and it was mysterious to see how much the signs of that collection and the characteristics led to think of a writing of many times before.

She glanced at the index on the first pages, the dim candlelight illuminated the words written in black ink, as well as the paintings of the people and the vivid colours of the noble coats of arms.

It was not difficult to notice the Hannovers: after all, they were the royals and all the family heraldry was marked from the year 1635 until 1744, which was that year.

That collection, in addition to the history of many other houses, told 109 years of history of the royal family, dividing it all into four generations.

She noted: in the first generation, from the year 1640 to 1675 the presence of a Hannover with the name Azura was marked, it was part of the first generation and showed characteristics that however seemed contrary to the young Zick.

She had charcoal black hair and two large green eyes, while the young Jones had light brown hair and two large hazel eyes.

Furthermore, if the woman had died in the year 1675, it was naturally impossible that she was the boy's biological mother, and she was also married to Arthur Hannover and together they had six sons, none of whom seemed to possess the boy's familiar traits.

Phoebe scrolled through pages, about another sixty, before reaching the end of the pages dedicated to the Hannovers.

One of the middle pages was torn, in some strange way, leaving her perplexed.

Who was represented on that page? Was it possible it was the original Azura Hannover? Who could have torn it and for what reason?

Phoebe's blue eyes went from page to page until the tear, she was trying to trace the time and how.

-Phoebs? What are you doing here at this time of night?- a voice interrupted the stillness of the cool night, making the young fifteen year old jump on her very feet for a moment.

She looked up slowly, observed the man's red hair, illuminated by the light of candles, his pale face still stained on the nose by some dark freckles, observed the green eyes of the man who stared at her with curiosity.

-Uncle Warren, I...I was just here...I couldn't sleep...- she admitted hiding the big book quickly behind her back, almost struggling to keep its heaviness in her hands.

The man smiled slightly, Phoebe knew he was far more permissive than her father and that he would let her be without too many complaints.

-I am not like your father but on the other hand I think it would be right that you too reserve a little rest and don't worry about the book, you can gladly continue reading...- the man admitted lightly caressing the soft and shorts hair of his niece.

Phoebe had always adored Uncle Warren, he was younger than his father, less controlling and above all more respectful towards her.

Her uncle had always adored her, he had spent a lot of time with her when she was little and they had played a lot together.

Now he himself had a son, a newborn named Simon and since the baby's birth she had very rarely seen her uncle, as he, his wife and baby Simon had moved to the northernmost Dustin mansion in Galway, by the sea.

The young Phoebe pretended nothing had happened, on the one hand she was happy to be able to spend time alone, with her uncle, since little Simon and his mother had remained in Galway to take care of the mansion.

She stretched and took the book in her arms.