Story : The first morning

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Ambrosius Arises

I knew I should have cast a ward around his bed, Ambrosius thought to himself. He cast around the common room for some sign of his brother’s passing, but found none. As Llewys grew older and more adventurous, this had become a morning ritual while on the road. Sometimes Alicia was the first to discover him missing, sometimes Ambrosius was, but always he managed to sneak out of the room, regardless of the obstacles. This morning was no different. With a quick glance at the drawn shutters, the mage guessed that it was sometime before dawn, maybe mid dusk. Ambrosius stretched and began the process of putting on his boots and cloak. He paused as he was about to bind his hair with the chain, thinking twice. Instead, he withdrew a leather strap from his backpack and tied his hair back with that. Almost as an afterthought, he reached down and grabbed his brother’s staff. While he’d originally crafted it as a gift to excite Llewys about the upcoming trip, his brother had been using it steadily since they’d left Spiritus Draconis, making it a handy arcane connection for those times when Ambrosius or Alicia had trouble finding where the boy had gotten off to. He hoped it would not be needed this morning, as this was the first time in several weeks that Llewys had wandered off in a public place.

Picking his way around the others in the room, he set out for the door. Not wanting to wake anyone, he considered casting a silencing spell around himself, but to do it without voice or motions, so as to keep it hidden from those not associated with the order already, well, that would be difficult, so he did his best to leave the room stealthily.

He came down the stairs quietly and passed through the nearly empty common room and headed for the door.

Several of the regulars had passed out around the snug, and the barmaids had picked their way amongst them, draping some scruffy looking blankets over them. The dog had taken the opportunity to place itself before the glowing embers of the fire, and was moving fitfully as it dreamt of chasing hares.

As he started to creep across the room in order to leave them inn, a floorboard creaked suddenly under his feet, almost waking the dog, and one of the patrons near to him. After a few moments, the patron rolled back over and slumped in his chair, while the dog appeared on the verge of waking. Ambrosius decided to freeze for a few moments to give the dog a chance to fall back into a deeper sleep. He knew that if he woke up, he would sense The Gift as a threat, and could start barking, waking the whole room. Ambrosius said to himself, “How the heck did Llewys do it?” He realized belatedly that he said it just a touch too loud.

Once silence had settled across the room, he tentatively began to move across the room. The sleepy murmurs, crackles of embers, and creaks from movements upstairs easily masked his footfalls. As he neared the door, he felt a great sense of relief at averting disaster. Walking around the last obstacle, a long bench between himself and the door, he was appalled when his foot clipped a pewter goblet that sat forgotten behind the stool. With a splash and a clatter, the goblet rolled away, stirring sleepy grumbles of complaint from the drunken regulars, and scrabbling sounds of claws upon stone as the dog sought to right itself.

Without thinking, Ambrosius reached the door in two great strides, and hurried through, though sadly not before the dog had barked twice.

A cockerel barks to greet the dawn

[That's a pretty weird cockerel if it barks.]

Mnemosyne was awoken to the sound of a barking dog. She rose and opened the shutters of her room and saw the greying light of dawn. Water was poured into a bowl and she splashed her face and performed her morning ablutions and usual ritual of parma before getting dressed. She carefully brushed out her hair, braided up two strands of hair and bound her hair back in place in her usual style. Feeling more herself, she went in search of Geraldous.

She found him easily enough, for the seasoned warrior was an early riser as well. In fact, by the look of things, he had been up for a while himself. Exchanging polite greetings she moved quickly on to the giving of orders. She wanted to be sure that things were ready for the soonest of swift departures. There was no point in wasting the day. Together they proceeded to the stables. Geraldous would attend to the beasts and Mnemosyne was content to let him. Her main concern was the spell placed on her horse was still in place. Her parens had assured her that it should last for most of the month, but it was wise to be sure with another journey ahead of them. It seemed as if the beast was still insensate to her gift, which was just as well as Mnemosyne had no means to duplicate it herself - and to be honest was not really sure exactly what had been done to it at all. All that mattered was it was ridable. Not that she was looking forward to it.

Leaving Geraldous to attend to things in the stable, she returned to the inn to make sure the innkeeper had been properly paid for his services, to gather up the remained of her things and to check that Ambrosius and his party were ready to depart. She had already resolved to skip breakfast - whatever she ate would be coming back up soon enough - but having some bread and cheese packed would be useful later and no doubt Geraldous would appreciate it, even if he managed to grab a bite before they departed. She was filled with a mixture of anticipation and dread. Anticipation for the embarking of the first stage of working with her new sodale and dread for the stomach churning ride up the mountain. Even the thought made her queasy. Something would have to be done about her problem if she were going to be doing any sort of travelling. She made a mental note - note for the first time on this trip - that she would embark in some rudementary study of Corpus as soon as possible.

Llewys and Ambrosius watch the sun rise over the vale

At least they won’t know for sure who woke them, he thought thankfully as he pulled the door closed behind. Our relationship with this vale is far too important to ruin the first morning. He chuckled to himself and thought, We should wait until next week, at least! Ambrosius started wandering around the quiet village in the predawn moonlight. He could see the first whispers of sunlight over the eastern ridgeline, and he could hear the early morning cries of birds waking from their slumber. The time of the morning was magical, he knew. A time of transition, from the night and all that accompanied it in body, mind and spirit, to the day and all things known. It was at this time that Llewys always snuck off, sometimes without regard to the temperature, a fact that irked Alicia to no end. Ambrosius was nearing the northern edge of the village proper, where the few structures that there were faded into farmland and pasture when he noticed a figure stood some distance away in the moonlight. Across the road, in the middle of a moonlit field, stood someone who looked like they might very well be Llewys. Whoever it was had their back to the inn, and seemed to be waiting for something. He made to call out to his little brother, but thought better of it – to violate the early morning quiet seemed to be akin to a violation of nature. Given the manner of his exit from the Inn, Ambrosius knew he could not go back any time soon anyway, so it seemed to him that time was something he had plenty of. It would be good to watch the sunrise as well, he decided, so he found a convenient rock on the side of the road and sat, one eye on his brother and one on the crack of light expanding along the top of the eastern hills.

The rising sun drove long shadows back across the fields toward the hills that had cast them forth. In the growing light, Ambrosius could readily make out Llewys's clothing and brown hair. The boy stood still, taking stock of the dawn as though transfixed by the colours of the clouds. As the lower limb of the sun cleared the hills, Llewys seemed to relax. He glanced about himself idly, before turning and heading back toward the Inn. He had barely walked a couple of yards when he spotted Ambrosius watching him, and with a sigh, reluctantly headed over to him.

"Good morning, Little Brother. How was your early morning stroll?"

“My... stroll?”

Ambrosius smiled. “Yes, your stroll. How do you think you got out here?”

“I woke up early... “ he replied quickly.

"That you did," Ambrosius chuckled.

Llewys relaxed a little when he heard his brother's laugh. He had half expected a stern lecture about wandering off in strange surroundings; maybe the morning was simply to pleasant for such thoughts.

The mage looked deep into his brother's face, studying the expresion. "You seem a bit out of sorts, my friend. What is the matter? Don't you remember coming out here?"

The boy looked sheepishly at the ground "I was sleepwalking again," he said quietly.

"Ah," Ambrosius said, "I see. You don't remember leaving the common room?"

"I remember going up to bed. There was an old woman in there who said some unkind things when I clambered into my cot." He frowned as he recalled the encounter, "and she snored."

"Is it possible that you stepped on her when you went to bed, little brother? It's not like it would be the first time."

"She said I jostled her cot, but I tried to step as lightly as possible. The others didn't complain."

"Bah, some just find it easier to complaint than to act. I wouldn't worry about it too much." The magus paused for a second. "Tell me though, you do not remember getting up and getting out of the Inn? There was some fairly fancy footwork involved there - it's hard to believe a sleepwalker could have done it."

"That never stopped me at the covenant," he replied. He cheered up a little as he thought of his escapades in that dry and scholarly place.

"Hah! You're lucky you didn't get your hair roasted off by some irritated grand master, you are!" Ambrosius rustled the boy’s hair. "When you saw me, you looked a bit more out of sorts than normal. I just want you to know - if you ever want to talk about it, if anything is ever bothering you, remember, I can always make time for you..."

Ambrosius flicked his wrist dismissively, "Unless I'm fighting a dragon, or binding a daemon, or eating a sweet tart..."

"A dragon? Are there any around here?" The boy asked, suddenly alarmed at the thought of large roosting monsters hiding amidst the craggy peaks about them.

Ambrosius laughed heartly. "I doubt it very seriously, little man! Besides, I'm sure you haven't got anywhere near enough meat on your bones to be very appetizing!"

"The only dragon I know of right now is the one I woke as I left the Inn - the one disguised as a dog in front of the fireplace! Do you think he might have calmed down by now?" Ambrosius looked back towards the Inn, hoping to see the signs of the kitchen fires going and a break for their fast in the works.

Llewys nodded seriously, before his older brother's words sunk into his groggy mind, "Hey," he exclaimed, "that's not a dragon. If I was going to disguise myself as a dog, I wouldn't choose to be a mangy old thing like that..." Firmly convinced of the logic of his statement, he took his elder brothers hand; "come on, I'll prove it to you."


Eirlys awakens

In her dream, a giant tree was speaking, imparting to her the wisdom of ages. Unfortunately, a ray of sunlight crept across the small cot, and directly onto her face. One violet eye opened suspiciously, and the giant tree's words were forgotten. I hate when that happens, Eirlys thought with irritation.

She sat up in her small cot and combed her long hair out, while raising her parma magica. She knew there was no point in brushing her hair-- people would see her hair as long, smooth and lustrous, regardless whether or not she'd combed out the unruly mane-- but she found the activity relaxing, and it had become part of her daily ritual.

There came a soft knock, and when Eirlys opened the door, she found Sandor had brought her a bowl of steaming water. She smiled, and touched his cheek softly. "Thank you, my friend," she said. He gestured a bit, and she nodded. "I'll come down to meet you for breakfast shortly. I don't know what sorts of food these creatures break their fast on, but could you at least see to it there's some tea? They can't possibly be so uncivilized as not to have tea in the mornings." Sandor's face broke into a wry grin, and he nodded before exiting the room.

Eirlys took her trusty towel out of her small bag, and scrubbed her face vigorously in the steaming hot water. While the winter fey was most comfortable in cold weather, there was something soothing and delightful about hot water on one's face.

Once she finally felt ready, she headed downstairs. It was going to be quite a day.

Eirlys walked delicately across the cobbled floor, taking care to stand on the strewn reeds. No one seemed to look up from their breakfasts, or conversations, as she settled into an unoccupied seat by Sandor, but she couldn't shake the sensation that she was being discretely observed. Almost as soon as she could pull her chair in, a breakfast platter was placed before her. "What would you drink?" asked one of the maids.

She looked up with no small amount of trepidation. "Would you have any tea, by any chance?"

Ambrosius and Mnemosyne make ready to depart

Ambrosius allowed himself to be led off, back to the Inn by the boy, a smile on his face the entire way. The sun was fully up and over the ridgeline by the the time they got back to the Inn, and the chickens, now awake and pecking at the path for seed, scattered out of the boy's advance as they reached the door and went inside.

As they entered, Ambrosius could tell that the staff had already started the warming fires. He didn't know if they did any warm break fasts here, but he was hoping for a loaf of fresh baked bread and some newly churned butter to spread on it. The Magus let go of his brother's hand as he moved to a table now unoccupied by the previously slumbering patrons and waved his hand towards one of the maids that had served them the previous night. He knew there was a long day ahead, and he wanted to be ready for it. He glanced over to where Llewys sat, stroking the once-again slumbering dog. He thought to himself, We will all need to be ready for it.

Mnemosyne entered the common room and looked around, spotting Ambrosius easily. She approached. "Salve sodale," she greeted him perfuntorily. "I trust you are well rested and ready to depart soon?" She was glad to see he was an early riser. Some magi were reknowned night owls and preferred the quiet of the night to study, rising late in the morning. It appeared as Ambrosius was not this kind.

“Good morning, Sodale!" Ambrosius greeted Mnemosyne in English. "Please, sit and break fast with us, if only for a moment.” Ambrosius paused while Mnemosyne sits on the bench, her feet to the outside, clearly ready to depart. “Indeed, Llewys and I can be ready to go in a matter of minutes, as we just need to grab our packs.” He summoned the boy back to the table, handing him a hunk of bread as he sat down. “We’ve gotten pretty good at the get-up-and-go portion of our travels.

“I’m afraid, Maga, that I have not yet seen Alicia. Let me give Llewys a few moments to eat, and I shall allow him to go wake her, if she is indeed still abed.” Llewys’ eyes sparkled as he smiled a mischievous smile. “Llewys enjoys waking her just a little too much, I think.”

“I fomish! No old spreeg whader!” the boy said, speaking through a chunk of bread much to large for his mouth.

Ambrosius gave him a tap on the head, “Llewys, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Llewys swallowed loudy, his throat seeming distending as the hunk of bread went down his gullet. “I said, ‘I promise! No cold spring water!’”

A barmaid approached Mnemosyne cautiously with a curtsey, "Will you be requiring breakfast, or shall I have it packed up for you to take with you?"

"Packed will suffice," the maga replied. "Now... about payment..."

The barmaid nodded "Your manservant already insisted on handing over some coin. The innkeeper was quite pleased; the last chap to leave this morning paid in goat's cheese, and there was some squabbling over the worth of it, so there was." Mnemosyne nodded with a smile of approval. It was good to see the folk here were honest.

Mnemosyne/Ambrosius

Llewys downed the last bit of bread and cheese and shot up from his seat and towards the stairs, his foggy morning all but forgotten.

"I see," the barmaid replied. "Oh, and I gave your manservant some food for the road, like he said you requested. Your group has made quite a hole in our pantry, I'll have you know!" with this, the maid started to laugh good-naturedly, momentarily forgetting in whose presence she stood, but her laugh died in her throat when she looked up again at the two magi. "Err... I'll just be clearin' this away." With that, she took the empty platters, and retreated to the kitchen.

“All we need do to be off, Sodale Mnemosyne, is wait for Alicia to come down those stairs…” Ambroisus’ voice trailed off and his face when two shades pale when he looked and gestured to the stairs. Mnemosyne followed his gaze to see Maga Eirlys sitting queity in a seat by the stairs, enjoying a breakfast by herself.

Anyone

In the stableyard, Geraldous was tugging the straps that held the saddles and saddlebags in place. It was fairly clear which steed was intended for Mnemosyne by the side-saddle it wore. "I believe everything is in order," he reported as the magi entered the yard. "I asked about the journey up, and they reckon its the first part that's the hardest." With that, he moved around to offer Mnemosyne a hand onto her steed. "Don't you worry, Maga," he sadded patting her mount, "we'll get you up there safe n' sound."

Later that morning

The sun was over the eastern hills by the time that Bedo rose, woken by the noise of preparations. He muttered greetings to those around, and hurried outside, heading first for the latrines. A few minutes later he returned, somewhat more slowly, looking less strained, and carrying a parcel of oiled cloth. He looked around briefly for Nenya and Phaedrus, then sat himself down at a table, and slowly unwrapped the parcel.

Taking from it a piece of parchment, half filled already with small, neat script, he rewrapped the rest, and brought out from a pouch a quill, knife and two bottles. Carefully he trimmed the nib, opened a bottle, and started to write. When all was done, he carefully sanded his writing, checked that it was dry, and carefully wrapped it back in the parcel. Only then did he look around again.

To one side of the main room, Llewys and Ambrosius could be seen having a light hearted chat over their breakfast. Elsewhere in the room sat some of the other travellers he had seen drinking here the day before, who had crept down from the rooms to partake of a little food before they set forth on the road once more.

The stuff were busy, and rushed from one task to another. A maid bustled past with a large jug of steaming water, disappearing up the stairs to the bedrooms. Returning moments later, only to disappear into the kitchen to fetch food.

Bedo watched her scurry off, and noticed that she was followed close behind by a very weary looking stablehand. Before he could give much thought to the lad's cause for exertion, the maid came to his table bearing a breakfast platter.

He thanked her, smiling up at her, and noticed his clumsy English phrasing and Welsh accent suddenly seeming loud across the inn. When a couple of heads bobbed up, and he felt people staring at him, he kept his head low, and ate.

Sleeping late

After waking with the sun, washing up and renewing his parma, Phaedrus lays down to wait for the inn to wake and study the morning habits of the others. Hearing Bedo greet the day he decides it's time to pack up and get down to breakfast. Carrying his traveling pack Phaedrus arrives in the common room just in time to see Bedo being served breakfast. Phaedrus heads towards Bedo's table, making sure to greet each of his sodales along the way.

Phaedrus notices that the maids don't seem at all happy about serving the tables. Normally, they might linger for a bit of easy banter with the patrons, hopefully learning a tidbit of rumour from neighbouring towns, but today they were bringing food to the magi as though each was a large fire that might scorch them if they lingered overlong.

With a curt "Mornin', master," a platter is placed before him containing a simple breakfast, and his flagon is filled with weak ale. Without waiting for a response, the maid hurries off to attend to less intimidating patrons.

Continued


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