Brighid of Gauwynn
After their talk, both women returned back to the mess hall. Thanks to Winston, when Brighid had finally come back to her seat, there was a sizable plate of food ready there. For the first time in a long while, Brighid ate as much food as she could. When she was nearly finished eating, she’d finally been spotted by some of the knights and servants in the hall, who immediately began to bombard her with questions about her journey. Brighid deflected, as much as she could, asking instead about some of the journeys her knights had experienced. Stories about daring rescues, fighting off terrible beasts, and treacherous journeys began to fill the hall.
The House always loves a good story. For a while Brighid watched the knights dramatically retell their greatest feats, and especially enjoyed the looks of Correl and Winston’s faces as the stories played out. But as the day was dragged slowly into nightfall, Brighid took her leave. She still had work to do, after all. She hadn’t just returned to Mynydd Gauwynn for a good story, a full meal, and a night’s rest.
Well, she still hadn’t quite gotten around to that rest…
Instead, Brighid found herself walking the halls, of House Gauwynn. It took her a moment, either due to fogginess or to her exhaustion finally reaching its limits, but the hallways felt different. Alive, like an animal, and it seemed to move along just as she did. Eventually, the world stop moving, and like much of the rest of this old mountain, everything grew still. In front of Brighid was a door, the only one in the whole of the house that was made with dark cedar oak. A heavy door, which to every single servant and knight meant that it was to stay closed. Closed to them anyway.
A quick search of her person revealed a small, dark-colored key, which fit perfectly to the door in front of her. Brighid quickly took a look around her, ensuring that she was alone except for the sound of voices carrying from far down the other side of the corridor. Brighid entered the key and began to turn the door when she heard a not-so sleepy voice behind her.
“What are you doing?” Winston chimed, looking decidedly more awake than before. Perhaps the knights’ stories invigorated him?
Brighid jumped back, seeing as Winston had not been there before. She had just checked if anyone was there… How did he…?
Behind him coming just a few steps was Correl. Just like Winston she looked as if she’d come from receiving the best gift of her life. At least she was getting more comfortable around the house. She waved as she approached, but the smile on her face faltered slightly at the odd scene of her mentor holding the odd door closed in front of the small pre-teenage boy.
“This is the dark room,” Winston continued talking, as if the air was not tense and still, “We’re not allowed to go in here.” Brighid watched as Correl’s face morphed into a frown, as if to say, And what pray tell is the incredulous Lord Brighid doing now? So in an effort to both defend and explain herself, Brighid pushed the door back closed fully, and moved to lock it back, “This is my study, so I’m am allowed in and out of it at my want.”
For a moment, Winston’s eyes widened, then a smile crept along his face, “So, then you could allow us into this room, then?” When Brighid began to argue, he started to gesture wildly between the three of them, “If you were to accompany us, Lord Brighid, surely then it would be alright?” Winston looked back to Correl, subtly nodding his head as if trying to subconsciously gain her agreement. “Right?”
“The only place, you should be going Winston,” Brighid’s voice was level, she slipped the dark key into the palm of her hand and clenched it shut, “is back to your room. You seemed tired earlier, am I wrong? Best to rest now for work in the morning.” The boy frowned, taking a step forward, “But I’m not even tired!” He argued, “I mean… I was, a little… earlier. Everyone stays up so late hoping you’d return… but now-!”
Brighid shook her head, “I must also have a talk with Erika then. She should understand that young ones such as yourself should need a good sleep every night.” At this, Winston scoffed. Brighid stepped away from the door, now shut and locked once more. “My study is no place for idling, I’m afraid. I keep my most important tools and books there, and the space needs to be uninterrupted for me to complete my work.”
“We won’t even make a noise, come on!” Winston near-cried out, and Brighid saw something stubbornly defiant in his eyes. “We could make good use of the stuff you’ve got in there! Maybe!” Once again he looked to Correl for support, but the older woman shook her head. She was a rule-follower after all, and an aspiring squire. The word of her lord knight was absolute. Correl stepped up to Winston, “Well… the lord’s study is off-limits, Winston.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and it took everything in Brighid to not laugh at the look of utter betrayal on the poor boy’s face. Winston looked between the two, pointedly, before huffing loudly and slumping in defeat. Brighid nodded to Correl, “See if you can’t find Erika to take Winston to his room. She should be back in the mess hall.”
Brighid looked over Winston a moment before bowing forward, just so she wasn’t towering over him so badly. “I promised that we would spend time together now that I’ve returned and I meant it,” she said brightly, watching as his pupils seemed to rapidly dart between her face and the door behind her, “I did promise this, but not in that study. Good night, Winston.”
Brighid waved goodbye to Correl and Winston until the two of them disappeared down the corridor back towards the mess hall. When she was sure they were out of sight, Brighid slackened her grip on the key in her palm. She waited for a moment, and when she didn’t hear the petulant, accusatory tone of a betrayed child, she once again unlocked the door to her study.
On the other side of the black cedar door was a staircase, with narrow walls and a high roof. Brighid made her way down, hand dragging along the rugged stone surface of the wall. At the bottom of these stairs, another door, much less foreboding the last, and requiring no key. Brighid swung this open with ease and stepped into what seemed to be a cellar. Wide open, with shelves of jars and books along one side, and against the other, a large desk, old, made from the same wood as the first door, covered in papers, and open books.
Brighid’s study looked exactly as it had when she left it so hectically all those months ago. Nothing had been touched, or moved. There was no sign that anyone had been in here at all. Except for the blood on the floor. And the stinging, stale scent of iron that accompanied it. But that wasn’t why Brighid was here, and she wouldn’t dare go anywhere near its source. Not yet.
Instead, Brighid approached the large desk, and the papers on it. Maps, actually, showing all of Yor. With dark ink carefully outlining the path from Mynydd Gauwynn all around, including places like Odessa, towards the ocean towns like Carneggan, or Dunby, even other mountain towns, like Caldune… This was the route she had planned to complete her task set by the King. Every town where a magician lived, where magic could be used to help… or hurt.
Brighid set out a blank piece of paper, and wrote using the nearest by ink pen and well (which had thankfully not run dry). She wrote about that monster from Odessa, about her conversation with Sir Virgil and magic being torn open from its origin source and pouring into the natural world, about the assassins who clearly carried it. Assassins, plural. When she’d thought there was only one it was easy, but now there were multiple… Brighid ran a hand through her hair, The one in Odessa, another one, the one who tried to kill me… How many more are they? And what do they want?
Brighid stayed in her study for a while, just compiling what she’d learned, sometimes she would stop, her eyes blearing from the writing, even with light, and from the stale smell. Sometimes she turned around to face the source and turned back just as quickly. Not tonight, she’d think and go back to what she needed to do. When her thoughts began to swim away from her, and focusing became an Olympian task, she stood up from her desk. She needed to rest, and for the moment she was safe to do so. She would come back the next day to try again.
When she left her study she found a new game had started, and she was unwillingly pulled into it. Winston was standing within sight of the door, trying to blend into the darkness, and doing a poor job of it. Brighid made a noise in the back of her throat, catching the boy’s attention. It was then revealed that he’d obviously fallen asleep waiting for her, standing on his feet.
Brighid woke him easily and watched with tight lips as he scrambled then righted himself, cursing his luck before roughly saying he’d, “go back to bed” and stumbling away.
This became a pattern over the course of days at House Gauwynn, Brighid would go to her study, Winston would either be there when she entered trying to plead his way in, or he would stand there until she exited, near-asleep. Each time she would wake him and walk him to his room. There were times when Correl joined him as well, usually trying to convince him to give up, which Brighid appreciated. Sometimes she would just be there to walk him back to his room.
In the days between these late night meetings, Brighid tried to tell Correl of her new plans, but was almost always interrupted, there were duties of course, for a lord to consider, and everyone and their mother was interested in talking with Correl, the new squire of Lord Brighid. So they barely had time for a conversation. Compile that with Winston’s constant interruptions to spend more time with Brighid, and well… the only time the two woman were able to have a word between them was when they walked Winston back to his room. Which was… frustrating, at least. The last time they spoke, Brighid had stated that she finally put together their new route, and she wanted Correl to see it as well, since she would be holding the new map.
“Well, maybe when you have time, you can bring the map with you?” Correl whispered, her voice still echoing in the halls.
“I’ve tried to have time,” Brighid groaned, wincing as Winston shifted in her arms, “I have a solution but well, admittedly it’s kind of an odd one.” She turned to meet Correl’s eyes, in the dark it was about the only way she could see her, aside from the light-colored shirt she wore. “Wait outside the study tomorrow night. Well, we’ll still have to get Winston to bed, but after that I’ll bring the map up to you.”
“Up?”
“I-I mean, out. I’ll bring out the map to you, it’s… it’s in my study.” Brighid stuttered.
Correl waited for a moment before speaking, they’d stopped outside of Winston’s room in the servant’s quarters, Brighid quickly placed the boy into his room, and left. They had to be extra quiet here, because the servants slept lightly, and they didn’t need the extra attention for this late-night excursion. When they left the area of the servant’s quarters she sighed, allowing it to echo into the hall in front of them.
“It sounds like a great plan, your lordship.”
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