Elise's fingertips continue to trace the cover of the book, feeling the gap on the corner of the upper wooden surface of the drawer. When she finally took out the book with ripping any ages, she pulled it out to see the dust and discoloration that had turned the book to yellow due to age. After looking how there was no title in the book, Elise then extended the book to Ian.

Ian then looked at the pages and untied the string that bind the book and read the first few pages of the book to then narrow his eyes, "It's my mother's handwriting."

Elise's eyes opened and coming to his side, she snuck her head forward to peruse the cursive handwriting on the book. The words were written neatly and beautifully that could almost help Elise to form an image on how Lady Lucy would look like.

"Have you never seen the book before?" questioned Elise.

"Never," Ian answered, his fingertips traced on the dried ink. Having to see his mother's handwriting again after nine hundred years, he couldn't express the spread of warmth that covered his chest and throat. His eyes continue to study the handwriting and he moved pages between pages until he stopped when he noticed one word that stood out from the passage 'Brother'.

"It's your uncle," Elise, who also saw the words stated on the writing. Her blue eyes then read the passage.

'Brother came today,' was that words written in the begging of the page, 'It had been a long time since we last met, he looked no different than before. He came and asked whether I am sure with the marriage and I told him yes. He seemed to be disheartened even if he said he didn't care and leave all choices to me, I know deep inside he is one hell of a worrywart person who doted on me a lot. He gave me a glass flask with a drink and when I asked him what was it for, he told me for the future baby. He didn't describe what it was but I trust that it is something that would protect my future baby, as all he ever done to me was protecting me. He asked me to call him if I was in danger and I convinced him it would be alright; after all, I don't live in that horrible place again.'

Elise, who had read the passage had questions on her, and she leaned back from standing on her toes, "Your uncle seems to live far away. What do you think the drink he gave to your mother?" It was said by the rumors that Ian's uncle was a Satan worshipper, "Do you think it might be the reason of your wings?"

"If he is truly a Satan worshipper he would have given me a drink that let me posses the evil power or demonic energy; though that alone is impossible. I doubt it had something to do with my wings." Ian's eyes fell on the last sentence, "Horrible place," whispered Ian. "I don't know what she mean by this. From what I heard from her stories, she spend all her life from baby here until he met my father."

Elise also wondered what it meant. There were many horrible places in this world, one she would like to say is slave building, and other place she might have a guess in would be, "Hell?"

Ian didn't answer, if asked what kind of place he would consider as horrible it would be his old house that he had burn to ashes, "My mother was devoted to God, so much that she named me with him in thought. I doubt it was Hell that she came from," Ian answered with his voice calm yet his eyes held many mix of emotions Elise couldn't tell individually, "Bit now that I have taken all possibilities considered, it's possible she came from hell."

But all they have now were suspicions without solid proof.

Ian flapped the pages but found nothing that describe the brother of his mother any longer. When he closed the book, he heard his sweetheart said, "Can we take the diary with us?"

"You can have it," Ian said, handing the book to her. The book does hold many memories of his mother but after he had killed the people responsible for his mother's death, he had made peace with the incidents. "Take care of it, would you?"

"I will. Was there anyone who knows about your mother?" Elise then asked.

"Other than the people I have killed, no one is alive now as you would expect. The only person who knows my mother would be her neighbor and I did met them few years back when my mother and I passed by," Ian turned and his eyes that met Elise's eyes could see the curiosity on her eyes and he said, "What would you expect from people who are poor? Once they saw my mother, they thought it as a window of opportunity and tattle tale her appearance to my step mother. People, what could I say? Don't look that sad, my mother and I was fine from it."

"I am sorry to hear that. I wish I could see your mother," or visit her grave, but she had heard how Lady Lucy was immolated to death. It was unfortunate, thought Elise. "She was an unfortunate woman."

"She was and going by what you said earlier, as your groom I know I have the possibility to introduce you to your mother. Follow me," Ian reached out his hand. His mother? Was she here? wondered Elise and she took his hand, curious. They zapped from, the place, appearing in a different room but still belong in the same house.

Elise parted her closed eyes, looking around, she was astounded by the painting of a woman that sat in front of her. "This is my mother," Ian said, "Lady Lucy White."