Clear-Sighted

Catherine Morland came by her love of the ethereal and otherworldly in an honest fashion, and in her trust of a person's word equally so.

As a child - a thin, awkward and sallow child, such that no one who saw would have suspected her to be born for the life of a heroine - Catherine's nursery maid had ventured to say (out of her employer's hearing) that there was something of the Bean Sidhe in her complexion and lank, dark hair.

Catherine's ears had pricked up at the unfamiliar word, and she had persuaded the nursery maid to tell her the stories of her youth in Ireland. Under the reasoning that such tales at least got the young Miss Morland to sit still and be quiet, as a young lady of a good Pastor's family should be, and even provoked some interest in her reading lessons, the other nursery maid, a native of the Morland's own Cornwall, was persuaded to contribute some of the more local folklore. Buccas and Browneys, Piskies and Spriggans. Tales of dragons and giants, of the mermaid who cursed Padstow and of Tregoss Moor and the kindlier spirits there.

Beings capable of both goodness and malice, according to their whim, and with an overarching desire to be left to their own devices. Catherine found it all quite relatable, and her free time was quickly given over to searching for one such being to befriend, reasoning that a companion who understood the desire to be alone in company might be worth the risk. Besides, Catherine was convinced that no adventure could be any more dreadful than suffering the auspices of the music master, who was forever insisting that she learn this or that Italian or Austrian song, rather than playing music as it came to her.

From the giggling that came not from her siblings, but from beings eternally just out of sight, when Catherine voiced the opinion that the Music Master merely did not recognise music if he had not alreay memorised it, she was not the only one who found concertos a waste of time and finger-strength.

Catherine's family were not as wealthy as the Allens, their friends, but neither were they too poor for the occasional holiday. Not a grand tour, but a few days seeing the sights of Cornwall might be anticipated.

At twelve, Catherine knew better than to mention seeing nineteen shades at the stone circle known as the Dancers, or two musicians at the Pipers, some way up the hill. She received enough of a scolding for joining in their whirling reel, as it was. A shame it was, too, for Catherine had never felt so energized, so willing to dance all night as the brief minutes she whirled in and around the stones with her invisible partners.

At Bodin Moor, the Morland family were returning to the Inn when time seemed to stop, and a monstrous black cat prowled toward Catherine. Blood dripped from its claws and fangs, and she stood frozen in place, fearful to move, for she knew somehow that to flee would mean death. The Beast sniffed her, then let out a sound more akin to the purr of a housecat, rubbing it's head briefly against her shoulder.

Then it turned and bounded away, vanishing entirely into the nearest shadow. Time re-started, and Catherine breathed out a sigh of relief, her suspicions confirmed. Truly, she must be destined to be a heroine, for why else should she have been spared by such a beast, if she had not been marked by some higher power?

The encounter with the Beast of Bodin Moor had changed Catherine's priorities, a little. She still was not fond of all the skills that her mother deemed it necessary for her to learn, and rejoiced never so much as when the Music Master was dismissed, but if she was to be the Heroine of a Gothic Tale, she felt that some effort must be exerted toward the endeavor of appearing more like the main characters in her carefully-hidden novels.

When she was finally seventeen, her form somewhat more filled out than the lankiness that had plagued her childhood and declared "very pretty" by some of the parishioners, Catherine was satisfied that she was ready for her adventure to begin. Not three days later, the Allens extended an invitation for Catherine to accompany them to Bath, that she might have some form of a Season without the expense of London. When her parents gave permission, Catherine accepted with all the delight to be expected of such a favor.

Finally, it was time for her to be the heroine of her own story!

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