Later…
Patricia emerged from the room, now elegantly dressed in the blue and gold gown. Matching pumps completed the look, giving her the air of a lady from the Middle Ages. Her hair was braided neatly at the sides, framing her face with grace.
She descended the stairs with quiet poise, entering a dining area where the elderly woman, Bernard, Alisha, and Zach sat at the table.
The moment her gaze fell on Alisha and Zach, her composure broke. She quickened her steps, her voice trembling with urgency.
"Alisha! Zach!"
"Sis!!" Both Alisha and Zach cried out, rushing toward her.
The siblings collided in a tight embrace, wrapping each other in a hug filled with relief and love.
"Oh, I am so sorry. I'm so sorry," Patricia cried as she clung to her siblings. "I hurt you… please forgive me. Please."
She pulled back to examine them, her heart sinking at their condition.
Alisha's head was bandaged, her hands covered with band‑aids, and her left knee wrapped in a thick dressing.
Zach's left arm was plastered and held in a sling. His face bore thin bruises, and his lip was split.
Patricia gasped, tears welling in her eyes.
"Oh my God… what did I do? I'm so sorry. I'm sorry," she sobbed again. "Please forgive me."
"Hey, hey, Sis. Stop worrying—it's okay! We're fine. We're both fine, see? Nothing serious happened. We're okay," Alisha reassured, her voice gentle.
"Yes, Sis. We're fine. We're all okay—that's what matters," Zach added firmly.
Patricia sniffled, her voice trembling. "I don't know what happened… I don't know what came over me for this to happen. I'm so sorry…"
"That's because you were thinking of something you shouldn't have…"
Patricia and her siblings turned toward the woman—the one who had spoken.
Patricia wiped her tears from her cheeks, narrowing her eyes. "I'm sorry, but who are you again? And what do you mean by what you just said?"
The woman smiled faintly, then shifted her gaze to Alisha. "Ms. Alisha, aren't you going to introduce me?"
Patricia looked at Alisha, whose face had gone pale. After a pause, Alisha swallowed hard and said, "Umm… of course. Patricia, please meet Mrs. McCoy." She hesitated, then added, "She's the woman I met at Mr. X's mansion—the one who saved my life."
Patricia's eyes widened. "You mean her?" She turned to Mrs. McCoy. "She's the angel who saved you?"
Alisha nodded. "Yes. That's her."
Mrs. McCoy met Patricia's gaze. "I am Mrs. Serena McCoy. It's finally nice to see you, Ms. Patricia Milton."
Patricia cleared her throat. "Um… it's nice to meet you, Mrs. McCoy. And I'm sorry for my rude behavior earlier. It's just… this has all been very confusing, and I don't understand what's going on, so…"
"Don't worry, my dear. Confusion is the first step to understanding. And I know you have many questions." She paused, walking toward the pot simmering on the stove. "But why don't you sit down first? We can talk after a lovely dinner."
Patricia gave a small smile and nodded, gesturing for Zach and Alisha to take their seats at the table.
Her eyes flicked briefly to Bernard, who was watching her intently with his golden‑brown eyes, a pack of ice pressed against the back of his head.
Patricia's cheeks flushed pink as she remembered attacking him earlier, mistaking him for a villain. She cleared her throat awkwardly and sat down, while Mrs. McCoy began serving dinner.
.....
Later…
"I was in town—I came to congratulate you on your coronation," Bernard revealed. "But before I could, chaos broke out with Zack and Morales's nephew. And to make matters worse, the Golden Horse appeared at the party. I saw you and your siblings running out, so I followed. Lucky for you, I witnessed your car veer off the road and crash into that oak tree."
He paused, wincing slightly as he shifted his posture. "You were all unconscious. I tried to call for help, but my cellphone broke the moment I rushed out to your rescue. In my despair, Mrs. McCoy arrived in her truck. She was already moving into this house. And since we didn't know if your accident was truly an accident, we decided to bring you here to recover."
Bernard's gaze softened. "Zach and Alisha regained consciousness within a day. But you, Patricia…" He hesitated. "You were unconscious for three days."
Patricia froze.
"What!" she gasped.
"Yes, Sis. We were beginning to worry. We thought you might never wake up—like last time. It really scared us," Zach admitted.
"Yes, it spooked us badly," Alisha added. "And since we're in this remote place, far from civilization, we thought we might lose you if things got worse."
Bernard groaned, shifting the ice pack against his head. "Honestly, I'm surprised at your strength right now. You didn't hit me like someone who'd been unconscious for three days. Ow! Now I know not to mess with you."
Patricia folded her arms defiantly. "Well, you had it coming. Why did you lock me in that room? That was uncalled for. I thought I'd been kidnapped, and that something had happened to Alisha and Zach. You shouldn't have done that."
"That's because, as you can see, this house is old and crooked," Bernard replied. "The wind could've disturbed your rest. The door was creaking so loudly it might have kept you from recovering. That's why it was locked."
Patricia froze, her eyes darting in embarrassment. "Oh… I didn't think about that."
"Yeah, you didn't," Bernard muttered, wincing. "Maybe next time you should check the facts before attacking someone. You could seriously hurt somebody. Ow—like me!"
Patricia gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry," she mumbled.
Bernard grunted and shook his head. Patricia sighed, mirroring him.
"So wait… I've been unconscious for three days again? Unbelievable! What's wrong with me? Am I really that sick?" Patricia exclaimed, still struggling to accept it.
"We don't know. The doctor said that maybe the shock traumatised you to have you unconscious for such a long time." Said Alisha.
"You're not sick," Mrs. McCoy spoke up, her gaze locking onto Patricia. She paused, her voice heavy with meaning. "On the contrary… you are perfectly fine but against time."
"What!!" everyone asked in confusion.
"What do you mean I'm fine but against time? What are you talking about? Are trying to say that I am dying?" Patricia demanded, her voice trembling.
"Yeah, what exactly do you mean, you crazy old lady? Explain yourself!" Zach snapped.
"Mrs. McCoy, what are you talking about? If this is one of your jokes, then I swear—it's not funny," Alisha added, her tone sharp.
"Yeah, Aunty… what are you talking about?" Bernard asked.
Patricia and her siblings whipped their heads toward him, eyes wide. "Auntie?!"
Bernard flinched at their loud questioning, wincing before replying, "Yes… Mrs. McCoy is my great‑aunt. She's my mother's aunt—my maternal grandfather's sister. But that's not important right now. Aunty, what do you mean Patricia is against time? What are you talking about? Do you mean that she is dying or what?"
Everyone looked at her confused.
Mrs McCoy sighed, looked at Patricia and said. "Follow me. We have much to discuss."
She then stood up from her seat and stopped at a distance before looking at Patricia. "Well Ms Milton. Are you coming or not."
Patricia looked at her intently before sweeping her gaze across the room looking at Alisha, Zach and Bernard who now looked at her to see what she was going to do.
She cleared her throat and stood up from her chair and followed Mrs McCoy quietly.
She led her into a study office. The room was neat and orderly. Books stocked on the small bookshelf. A small desk with two chairs stood in the middle of the room. On top an old ink bottle and quill sat on top. With old papers stacked on the side.
Patricia wondered if Mrs McCoy really loved ancient stuff or it was something else.
Mrs McCoy went and sat at the head chair at the desk and gestured for Patricia to sit down.
"Please take a seat, Ms Milton."
Patricia sighed as she took a seat. "So?" She began. "Tell me what you meant earlier. If I am not sick. Then what do you mean I am against time? Am I dying?"
Mrs McCoy looked at her intently before replying, "Yes. Yes you are dying, Ms Milton."
Pwaaa!
The sound of glass shattering echoed inside Patricia's mind. Freezing her in silent horror after Mrs. McCoy's shocking revelation.
The silence stretched until—
"What?" She asked in disbelief. "I am dying? But how? Why? What's going on? What's wrong with me?"
Mrs. McCoy's gaze swept across the room before settling intently on Patricia. "What did your father, Simon, tell you when he gave you that key chain around your neck?"
Patricia's hand instinctively grasped the chain. She looked at Mrs. McCoy and whispered, "He said… this is the key to everything I'll need to know—and so much more."
Mrs. McCoy nodded slowly. "Yes… yes. But what was the most important thing he told you to remember?"
Patricia narrowed her eyes, her voice firm. "Always remember… that it started with a race, and it will end with a race. But I don't see how this is relevant to my questions. What has this got to do with me dying."
"Oh but it is, my dear. It is very much relevant." Mrs. McCoy leaned in, her voice low and deliberate. "Then I have only one more question for you, Patricia. What did you see… the moment you crossed that finish line, when you won the race and became the new second world championship derby racer? What did you see?"
Patricia squinted, her mind drifting back to the day she crossed the finish line.
The crowd had moved in slow motion, their figures blurring as though they were fading from existence. Jagged bursts of blue smoke spread across the ground. The sky transformed into a vast space filled with blue flames. Lightning flashed in relentless torrents, surging like an electrical storm, its power lifting everything from the earth as though a vortex was sucking it into the void.
One bolt struck the ground before her, forming glowing words in a language she could not understand.
"Veyrith xal'dran mor'kai ven'dur.
Zarveth ek'thal veyrion kren'dar.
Ulthar ven'kai, myr xal'dor.
Kren'thal voss, en'kai."
As the words shimmered, everything froze—as if time itself had stopped.
Then came the pain. A sharp, biting agony in her chest. She looked down to see a golden‑blue tulip tattoo etching itself into her skin. Her head spun, her body tilted, and just before she collapsed, someone caught her in their arms.
She lost consciousness staring into his beautiful sapphire eyes, as the world around her snapped back to normal.
At the time, she dismissed it all as a dream—a figment of exhaustion and grief over Liberty's death. But now, with Mrs. McCoy's question, the memory clawed back with terrifying clarity. The very horse she rode had been pulled from history, inexplicable. And not to forget the entity hovering around them like a looming doomsday…
Was that the cause?
Was this what her father had meant?
"Hugh!" Patricia gasped, her eyes wide as she locked onto Mrs. McCoy.
Mrs. McCoy nodded, her expression grave, acknowledging Patricia's realization.
"Wha… what? No!" Patricia shouted, standing abruptly, running her hands through her hair in panic.
She exhaled sharply, her voice breaking with desperation. "No! No, it can't be. Why me? Why me! I don't want anything to do with It—I don't want any part of It! Why me?"
Mrs. McCoy sighed, her tone heavy. "I'm afraid your fate was chosen long before you were born. The rest you will learn in time. This is all I can tell you for now."
"Oh, hell no! Hell no!" Patricia shouted, slamming her hands on the table. "You are going to explain it to me—what's going on. How am I dying without being sick? What does this have to do with what I saw on the day of the race? Or with what my father said? I know that thing is involved, but you need to tell me about it. Stop leading me into riddles—I'm fed up! Fed up with all of this! So you'd better tell me right now what you know and what's happening to me, or things won't end well for you. That I promise."
Mrs. McCoy's eyes blazed as she fixed Patricia with a fierce stare. "Do you think I would reveal such a delicate truth and not explain myself? Do you truly believe I am that insensible? If you want answers, then sit down and stop acting like a tantrum storm!"
Patricia flinched at her shout, intimidated by the force of her gaze. She opened her mouth to retort, but—
"Sit down, young lady. I do not like repeating myself," Mrs. McCoy commanded, her voice sharp as steel. "Sit. Down."
Patricia swallowed hard, her defiance faltering. Quietly, she sank back into her chair, glancing awkwardly around the room before turning her gaze back to Mrs. McCoy.
"Good," Mrs. McCoy commended. "You will never get your answers if you behave like a tantrum storm. Now listen to me very carefully. I believe the reason you were involved in this accident—coincidentally near the route to my home—is no accident at all. I believe it is now my turn to tell you what I know. That is why I revealed such a delicate truth to you. Not to lead you into more riddles or another maze, but to give you something that might bring you closer to the answers you seek.
I will not say too much. I am well aware of what happened to Saccoth, and the same could happen to me if I reveal too much. So I will only tell you what you need to know—for now."
Patricia's gaze kept locking onto hers and she leaned forward with yearning eyes and perked ears ready to listen to what she had to say.
Mrs McCoy leaned closer and whispered "Veyrith xal'dran mor'kai ven'dur.
Zarveth ek'thal veyrion kren'dar.
Ulthar ven'kai, myr xal'dor.
Kren'thal voss, en'kai."
Patricia's eyes widened at her words. Those were the same words the lightning wrote in front of her that day.
Mrs McCoy smirked looking at her shocked expression.
"How...? What....?" Patricia stammered looking at her with wide eyes.
"It is time now, my Protector. The Race has begun. The world is now in your hands." Mrs McCoy translated.
Patricia's eyes widened the more.
Mrs McCoy looked at her dead in the eye and continued. "Rosella, Adriana,Patricia, Wiltshire Milton… Keeper and Protector of the Chronalis. Welcome to the Race. Your time has come to conquer the track of the world. To preserve your life—and the lives of those around you—you must finish this Race without fault."
She paused, her eyes flicking to a framed picture of her with young Bernard before returning to Patricia. "Otherwise, all will be in vain."
Then she leaned in again, her gaze piercing Patricia's soul. "Are you ready for it?"
Patricia swallowed hard, her head spinning at the revelation.
'Keeper and Protector of the Chronalis.
Keeper and Protector of that thing.
The key to everything. The key to everything… ' Patricia mused silently as her fingers tightened around the key chain at her neck.
'The key to everything. As the Keeper and Protector of the Chronalis… does that mean…'
Her breath caught. "Huh!" she gasped, her eyes widening as she looked at Mrs. McCoy. "I… I am the key to everything."
Mrs. McCoy nodded, a faint smile curving her lips.
That smile confirmed it.
Patricia's heart pounded as the weight of the truth settled over her. Was it a blessing—or a curse?
And what will happen if she failed?
One thing was certain.
She was going to find out soon enough.
************************************************
IMPORTANT NOTICE
Hello my dear readers. This the end of Volume One of the Novel.
Kindly stay tuned for Volume Two to be Shared in due time.
Patricia now knows about her destiny and connection to the Chronalis.
She has also discovered that Isaac was her Saviour when she was young and knew her before they met at the Cemetery that Night.
What do you think she is going to do with the information?
How will her revenge unfold from now on?
Find out in Volume Two.
But for now.
Peace.
With love,
L.V
***********************************************
Spoiler alert.
Get ready for a little bonus chapter. A Teaser for Volume two to be shared soon.
Peace and out.
L.V