It was a cold night within the realm of Eyrien’dor the winter’s bite leaving a blanket of snow across the thick forests in a sea of white. The main roads had been closed from the storm that lingered over the north barricading most within her grasp. The embers from fire’s coals cracked upwards catching the gaze of the Ranger-Lord every now and then as it trailed downwards falling into ash. The Winter’s Veil brought many surprises to his lordship, the arrival of his daughter and the moments shared forever burned into his memory for centuries to come. Now the estate stood in a silent calm that was usually found in the stillness of the early hours before the suns rise. In the wake of the festivities that were still to come many had stolen solace that eve as the winter’s chill had bitten into the castle itself offering little relief from what stormed outside.
Silence was a gift rarely afforded to the Ranger-Lord as his duties of late had stretched him thin, on this occasion he spent it within his private chambers studying over a manuscript a colleague had sent over to be revised before its publication in the spring. Since he was a young man Vylanthas learned how to read and write by correcting the grammatical errors placed within the texts of many tombs, and scripts sending his discoveries to their creators. With quick strokes of his quill, or added notations to the sides of paragraphs the Ranger-Lord drank in the wealth of knowledge he was learning from this particular piece. Reaching for his gold trimmed tea cup that was patterned in a grey rose pattern Vylanthas sipped on his bitter tea that he blended himself contemplating the last exert he finished remarking on.
Three raps were placed against the heavy wooden door each an exact second apart booming through the room causing the man who was in deep thought to startle spilling the contents of his cup down the sleeve of his shirt. “Damn it.” He whispered onto himself quickly placing the china set down and moving the parchment aside to not see the wealth of knowledge ruined by his carelessness. “Yes?” Vylanthas asked sharply with little patience in his tone as he reached for his handkerchief patting himself dry.
The footman entered swiftly carrying a decorated golden tray with a matching letter opener, within the center a singular unopened letter that had arrived from house Blackwood. The document had been carelessly overlook in the morning as the Lord Stewart was away on business until the late hour of that evening. “Thank you.” The Ranger-Lord had nodded to the footman silently dismissing him as he took the letter from the tray. Breaking the seal with a swift slide of the sharpened blade to open the contents within Vylanthas was able to catch the Greenseer’s scent within the threads of the parchment she penned over.
Though we have been unable to partake of tea, I wished to inform you that I have been delivered of twin boys, slightly early. Though there has been no announcement, the Lords Laevir and Cyrwin are thriving.
Juniper eyes drank in her words as the light from his smile quickly grew over his lips touching every lined feature of his dark contours. The joyous announcement to be a mother once more touched the man’s heart in a way he would never explain to another. To have a secure line of succession offered a security few households could enjoy these days, it was a gift to both herself and the High-Lord. Not one but two he thought again before whispering aloud “Sons…” a word that had not passed his lips since his owns passing.
I write to you however because I dearly need your help. For the present, I have a wet nurse and nannies to tend the babies, due to the fact that I am suffering under the presence of the Nightmare. It is not known publicly, thus, as ever you know I value your silence. Your grandmother is the only one I know skilled enough to rid me of it. Else, I do not know what to expect next.
Please, write back when you can. I am on bedrest for the present, at home. If you are able to aid, I can send a conveyance with guards
Continuing to take in her words the brightness that reached his juniper gaze faded as his expression grew grim and his stomach stirred with unease. “Send for the Lord Stewart.” Was all the Ranger-Lord found himself able to muster out at that moment, the tone of his voice was strained however it masked the sense of urgency. Wishing he could scream aloud as if a boy in his youth to demand the attention this specific matter called for he knew better of himself. A certain delicacy had to be taken with this as silence was demanded. Everything had been ripped away from him within a single paragraph, could his family save her?
The footman was quick to disappear from the confines of the room and away from his lordships sight. To call on his personal Stewart at any late hour was never a good sign for whoever it concerned and at that moment the footman prayed it was not him. Remaining seated in his leather chair Vylanthas read over every word she had penned over and over again to ensure he did not miss a single detail, searching for any hidden messages that could have been thoughtfully placed within. Confident that there was nothing more and that he had memorized the entire piece verbatim he folded the letter as neatly as had been received. Placing his lips to the wax seal a silent prayer was breathed out onto the house emblem for her ladyship before tucking it away within his vest pocket.
Arriving within minutes to his lordships request the Lord Stewart found his master dressing for travel with leather satchels stretched across the bed while the Ranger-Lord himself gathered the belongings he required for such a journey. “Vylanthas?” he breathed out in quiet frustration looking over the room in a silent horror to the thought of him risking his life in such a storm. He dared not comment to the younger man having already made his decision one the Lord Stewart would respect no matter how much he silently protested. “Lord Rha’veran, you summoned me?”
The Ranger-Lord barely looked at the man who entered there was no time for formalities when there was so much to do, “Send word to my grandmother that she is to prepare for travel and that I will arrive within the hour to escort her to the Blackwood estate. Inform her that she is to prepare to help a young lady within her court medicinally as we have been summoned by her Matriarch to aide in a matter that is beyond her expertise. We will be leaving upon my arrival as there is no time to wait out the storm.” Motioning towards his desk there was a sealed letter that’s wax was still soft over top of emerald in colour with gold accents parcel to be received. “Ensure the magi deliver this to the Blackwood Estate that the letter was received from and that it has been placed within Lady Blackwood’s hands within the hour. I will not forgive excuses or tardiness with this personal matter, am I understood?”
“Yes.” The Stewart declared so that there was no misunderstanding between the two. As ordered the Lord Stewart took the letter and parcel to the magi of house Rha’veran ensuring its swift delivery. Making his way down to the stables a single stead was ordered to be prepared for a night’s journey. The snow had been coming down heavily for hours giving no sign for remorse as the northern winds howled against the castle. Unable to see the house across the lane in the village the journey to his grandmother’s estate was more likely to prove fatal and fruitless. The Lord Stewart dwelled on the contemplation to talk his master out of such a dangerous expedition. Had he not been by his side for over eight centuries and learned to trust in his decisions his voice would not have been as easily silenced. Whatever contents were within that letter they were pressing enough to muster such a decision at this late of hour, it was not something to be overlooked in the least. This was a feat he had not seen since the passing of his beloved wife and sons, he dared not strip away Vylanthas’ sense of urgency this matter called for, not after everything they both had seen, not after he had done so at the unknown cost of his master’s family.
A parcel would have arrived in the middle of the night to the Blackwood Estate with the messenger requesting it be delivered into her ladyship post haste. The contents within were two silver rattles that had been engraved with a rose and thorns as well as two pairs of hand knitted socks for the pair of boys. Along with the gifts for her children was one for herself a single arrow handcrafted from the forest of Eyrien’dor a symbol of the promise that was held in the words scratched across the parchment with the received gift.
Gracious Lady
I am overjoyed and saddened by what I have received this night, may I firstly offer my mine and my houses blessing onto you, the High-Lord and your children. To be bestowed not one but two treasures in just one night is miracle in its own. Secondly with your private matter … Just know that I will be there, no matter the summons or call my house will always be at your disposal.
Currently there is a storm that has blanketed my entire lands, they say it is to last several days however once you’ve received this I will have already ridden out to collect my grandmother at the estate she is staying within at this time. It will take me two days’ time to reach you as I am unwilling to risk the life of my magi in this weather, I beg for your forgiveness that I cannot make it within a timelier fashion as such a request demands.
I can not begin to pretend to understand what this Nightmare can fully do to a druidess such as yourself beyond the plagued lives I have witnessed on the isles themselves. I ask that you hold on just a little longer, I know you have been strong in your silence for some time now but please for everyone’s sakes grasp onto what you can and we will be there shortly.
It is my will and grace to see you live so that your children do not need to grow up and learn of their mother from another’s lips, but to only know her own from the love and affection you will adorn onto each of them. To have that chance stolen… It would be unforgiveable to not know the gracious lady that I have come to cherish, and one of the very few I call friend.
Ranger-Lord Vylanthas Rha’veran