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I went to the library, so I can find out something, anything about Dwaine. I searched high, and I searched low, but I came up empty. I only had one solution: ask the librarian.

I walked over to her desk and handed him my library card. “How may I help you?” “I'm doing aresearch project for school, and I was wondering if you had any books or references on a man named Dwaine Ciscough?” he smiled and walked away from his desk; he led me to the History section of the library, and flipped through several books until he found the right one. “Here you are, miss: The History of Ireland's Great Painters, circa 1531.” He handed it to me, and I flipped through it a little. “Thank you so much...” I say and as he stamped the book, I walked into a private room, and started to read.

“Dwaine Ciscough was born in September of 1509 in Galway, Ireland. His mother and father were both slave laborers who escaped the crucial pain of working day in and day out. Patrich and Selstine Ciscough sent Dwaine to England so the country could bear him a better life. While he was growing up, he had a fondness of sculptures and landscaped artwork.

All his life, he wanted to become a recognized artist, and share his artwork to the world. In 1527, the King at the time, Henry VIII, caught word of Dwaine's accomplishments, and decided to bring him to court. He was chosen to become one of King Henry VIII's soldiers by the King himself because of his loyalty and his strong Catholic faith...”

I turned the page, and saw an old sketch of him when he was in his late teens. He looked so handsome with his sword on his sheath, and his stance perfected.

I continued reading:

“He was proclaimed as one of the best soldiers England ever had to offer. But unfortunately, things took a turn for the worst, when Dwaine, then aged 22, was thought to be a thief. Around 1531, he snuck into the King's quarters, and stole a scroll which contained lyrics to the song 'Greensleeves'. The song was written by King Henry VIII to solely win the love of one of Queen Catherine's Ladies in Waiting, Anne Boleyn. Dwaine never returned the scroll, for he planned to give it to his love interest: Avigaille DuVrin, a seamstress to the Queen.

“A letter was written to Avigaille, though there's no reference as to what the letter said back then. The note was never found; it was thought to have been burned, or just clearly rid of in order of the King.” “I don't think I want to read what happens next”, I thought, but I've gotten so far, I couldn't tear away from the book.

“Dwaine Ciscough was arrested, and charged for breaking into the King's sleeping quarters, and thievery of an important scroll. Before his sentencing, he stated, 'I only seized the scroll, so that I may profess my love for the Lady Avigaille. You, milord, are not the only one to have the honor of loving another. I haveth the right, and I shall have that right for the rest of my days. Kill me, if thou decidest, and claim yourself as proud. For, I hope that if you shall take my life, I pray that you will have everlasting disappointments in marriage...and childbirth. This I vow unto you.'

“Dwaine was brought to the what the commoners called, “the Chopping Block”, and was then executed by beheading. He was never given a chance to speak his last words, Last Rites, nothing. A swift kill, and nothing more. The onlookers were in grief and desperation. They were told that if they spoke about Dwaine in public, or around the King's presence, they too, would share the same fate. His remains were thrown into the Thames River for he was too sacreligious to be buried on Holy ground, or any ground for that matter. Some say that his soul was never laid to rest, and that it lingers on, and has done so for several hundred years.”

I covered my mouth and started to cry. “Oh, my God...” I collapsed my weary head on the desk, and cried my eyes out. “The letter...it was never sent to his beloved...but...” I take out the letter that was sent to me unknowingly, and read it over again and again. “This must be the letter that he tried to send Avigaille, but never could because he...died...”

“Now, you know the answer...” I heard a familiar voice say. Dwaine was nowhere to be found, but I believe that his presence was within me. “Why...why didn't you tell me you were killed?” “Because I wanted you to find out for yourself, Avangellina. I didn't want to tell you about how I was executed. It wouldn't sound right, and it wouldn't be gentlemanly either. I see that you have received the letter.” I twirl it around in my hand. “Yes, I did. Where do I have to go?” “You already know the answer to that, my dear...” and he faded away again. I close the book, and leave it where it lay, and walk out of the room.

“I already know the answer...what does he mean by that?” throughout the day, my mind was in complete thought; I may have had an outer-body experience a time or two. Could he be talking about the Tabh Terrace place? Or my idea, Tabu? That's what he probably meant. I lay back on my bed and close my eyes. My body was overtaken by sleep once more, and as I slept, I could faintly hear the tune of Greensleeves dancing around in my mind.