The Elder's Path (14 page)

“Yes, since I was much younger. I raised and trained him myself.”

Lyn blinked, and said
, “That must have been quite a ride. He’s…well he’s huge!”

This elicited a chuckle from the large
man. “Yes, yes he is indeed. And he has quite the spirit. But we understand each other, he and I.”

He finished wiping and brushing down his equine friend and packed away all the riding gear. He motioned for Lyn to follow him, and they went around to a la
rge and empty coop. “Here is where we kept the birds. You can keep yours here if you like.”

Lyn looked to the coop with doubt. She had never confined Alir before, she was accustomed to having him with her. She was not sure what the generally accepted proc
edure was here, if her companion was allowed in the manor proper with her or if animals were expected to stay outdoors. Without prompting, however, Alir took flight from his perch on her shoulder and in to the coop, landing on one of the perches therein.

“Seems he likes it,” Skyehart mentioned. “I always felt guilty putting such majestic creatures in such a small space, but my father used to say that they appreciate the darkness and seclusion. My grandfather was a great falconer, he built this coop for his
treasured birds and spared no expense doing so. My father used to say...”He cut himself off, shook his head, and closed the door to the large enclosure.

Lyn looked at him expectantly, wondering if he was going to finish. When it was evident that he was n
ot, Lyn shrugged and turned to follow him to the large house.

“We can bring him and Stygian some food
,” Skyehart said.

Lyn said nothing, but was grateful for his thoughtfulness. True to his word, the man procured some meat for Alir and some oats and appl
es for Stygian. They went their separate ways to feed their companions.

“I get a good feeling about him, Alir
,” Lyn said conspiratorially when she was sure Skyehart couldn’t hear her. Alir peered at her with one eye, cocking his head to look at the meat she was carrying. “Oh alright, you just want the food.” She fed him until he no longer seemed to be hungry, and then cleaned up to go back into the house.

Skyehart met her on her way and let her in. Once inside, there was a large room seemingly dedicated t
o taking off one’s clothes and shoes. Lyn was not accustomed to doing so, but she saw the benefit; tracking in all the snow and mud through such a place would be a nightmare to clean! After they stepped out into the house proper, Lyn was surprised to find it dark, cold, and devoid of any other people.

Skyehart, noticing her looking about the place, commented
, “It didn’t used to be this way. I’ve had to shut up most of the house. But please, let me get your room prepared and a fire lit.” With that, he strode off into the shadows of the manor, leaving Lyn to look about.

There were great windows which let in light from outdoors, but it was murky and grey from the storm. It gave the place an air of abandonment, which saddened Lyn greatly. She could just make o
ut the great hearth in the main room, and large couches that were covered with shrouds. She imagined what the place would have been like full of life and light, and seeing it this way felt like a loss. She stepped further into the main hall, her footsteps echoing against the shadowed walls. Through the large windows, she could see the snow blowing harder now. Despite this, she heard or felt nothing of the wind. At least there is that, she thought.

Hearing footsteps approaching from the darkness beyond the
hall, she turned to see her host appearing from the shadows. The murky light from the windows cast him in an eerie glow as he stepped into it. His armor glinted in the pale light and caught Lyn’s attention.

“Why are you wearing your armor still?” Lyn aske
d, her voice carrying into the empty hall. She cringed at the volume; it seemed like she was breaking some kind of reverent silence.

But Skyehart only gave a half smile and said quietly
, “I always wear it.” Coming closer, he motioned for her to follow. Taking her to a door off the main hall, he led her to the kitchen. “Let me get the main fire started here, and we’ll get some supper going. I’ve got the fire in your room ready, so it should be cozy by the time you are ready to retire.”

“Thank you,” Lyn sai
d hesitantly, “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble, what with the house being shut up...”

“None at all. It is probably good to put a little life back in to this place again. It has been quiet for a long, long time.” He seemed to lose himself to his thoughts
, and did not continue. Not wanting to disturb him, Lyn decided to take a look around the place. She had to admit that a deep curiosity was awakened in her; she had heard stories about great castles and fortresses, but had never imagined being in one. Seeing it in such an ethereal state heightened its sense of mystery.

She opened the door back to the main hall and shut it softly behind her. Looking about, she noted there was a small passageway leading out of the main hall, deeper i
n to the place. She bit her lip and turned back to look towards the kitchen. Through the silence, she could hear the young man preparing the fire.

Lyn stepped slowly down the passageway which, lacking windows, was much darker than the hall from which she had come. A door barred th
e way at the end of the passage, and with one last glance behind her, she slipped through. The door opened up into another grand hall, this one dominated by a large staircase to the upper levels. Pillars lined either side of the hall, and great shelves packed with books stood next to lounging couches, all covered with shrouds. The windows in this hall matched the entrance hall previous, and through the dim shafts of light she made out the dark silhouettes of armor standing at either side of the staircase. In the silence and shadow, they seemed to be like funereal guardians, standing their deathwatch. Lyn shivered, and looked about for a source of light. All of the sconces stood empty, and the candlesticks devoid of candles. Lyn could not help but wonder what had happened in this great place, where everyone had gone. She imagined Skyehart staying here in darkness, all by himself in the silence. She imagined him sitting in an empty room, facing a cold fireplace and surrounded by the barren furniture. How lonely this must be, she thought. It was no wonder that he had shut up the rest of the house.

Lyn proceeded forward slowly, trying to mask her footfalls in the silence. There were no rugs or carpets or furs laid about, only cold stone and covered furniture. She
saw great tapestries hung on the otherwise empty walls, but they too had been covered and she could not make them out. While she was peering at the decorations, she noticed that there was a door atop the staircase that stood ajar. Curious, she moved to the stairs and began to ascend. Without thinking, she put her hand to the banister and noticed it was coated with a thick layer of dust. The druid paused, rubbing the dust between her fingertips. Lyn surmised that a long time had passed since someone had come by way of this room; why would they have left the door open? Even more drawn now, she proceeded to the dark portal at the top of the stairs, wondering where it led. Offhandedly, she wondered if her host would be upset at her wandering, but she quickly dismissed it as irrelevant in the face of her curiosity.

Lyn had always been an adventurous one. The forest had been home to many excursions and explorations when she was younger. Her childhood was filled with games of imagination, where she was a great adv
enturer in a strange world with new people and experiences to be had every moment. As she had grown, she felt very keenly the confines of the forest pressing down upon her, and had begun to pine for a life more in line with her childhood visions. That craving for adventure and progress had gotten her this far, and she wasn’t about to stop now. She stepped in to the doorway and stared beyond it, trying to make out where she was. Something creaked beyond her vision and she cringed for a moment.

“Hello?” s
he called gently, not knowing fully why. Skyehart had never said that there was no one else here, but Lyn had gotten the distinct impression they were alone in the empty manor. If that was the case, she thought to herself, why is someone here now? She stepped forward in to yet another passageway, this one much shorter. The passageway terminated in to a large sitting room dominated by a wall-length stained glass window. Lyn caught movement and crouched, her hand moving to her knife hilt, but was embarrassed to find that she had been seeing her own movement in a mirror. Dismissing her dramatic reaction, she looked about the room further, trying to ascertain where she was. One wall of the sitting room stood strangely barren, with two large hooks a few feet apart from each other. Lyn tilted her head, wondering what had been there. In the corner of the room one of the deep shadows stirred and Lyn gasped as it unfurled into the shape of a giant wolf. Three red eyes opened and a great maw parted to reveal glinting teeth.

“Marcho!” Lyn whispered furiously, “By the Void, what are you doing here!” A deep rumble filled the room, and Lyn took a step back as the shadowy wolf seemed to slither over to
the wall at which she had just been staring. He took a deep breath and his great snout split again into a wicked grin.

“Yes...”
he hissed.

A
silhouette cast itself over Lyn and with a yelp she turned to find Skyehart’s massive form darkening the doorway. Lyn, panicked now that he had seen the demon that had followed her, turned to say something but saw that the ebon wolf had gone.

“This was my
parents’ chamber,” Skyehart said slowly. He struck a match to light a candle mounted on a silver holder. The bright flame dispersed the shadows in the sitting room, and Lyn waited with bated breath for the light to reveal the demon wolf. But it did not; the room was devoid of anyone but Lyn and Skyehart. Lyn should have been surprised, but somehow she wasn't.

The blonde man turned abruptly and said
, "I just realized, I have been very rude; I haven't introduced myself." He turned about and waited, clearly expecting Lyn to precede him out of the room and back towards the kitchen.

"I think I know who you are," Lyn said hesitantly. She still couldn't tell if he was mad at her for wandering of
f or not. She passed him and he walked alongside her down the staircase.

With a small hint of a teasing smirk he said, "You may indeed know
my name, but only I can give it to you."

Lyn blushed and mentally kicked herself for finding his mysterious nature
tantalizing.

"My family name is Skyehart. You know that already. We've been here for as long as anyone can remember, at this very spot on the peak. Legend has it that my family went all the way back to the old world, and acted as shields for the mages wh
o made the mountains their home. Legend only, perhaps, but regardless we have had a rich history here." He paused for a moment, letting her back through the connecting passageway to the main hall. He shut and locked the door behind him.

Stepping back in t
o the main hall, the small light from the candle cast deeper shadows in the empty space, making it seem even less inviting. Skyehart paused, looking around the darkness. What phantoms he saw there Lyn knew not.

He turned to her, his eyes steely in the fli
ckering light. "My name is Siege Skyehart, first of that name, and last of my line."

--

The rest of the evening was fairly reserved. It was clear to Lyn that Siege spent very little time in the manor, and that he was lost in his memories and thoughts. He showed Lyn to her room, which was modestly sized but very comfortable. A small window afforded her a look outside to watch the storm. She felt a kind of serenity watching the torrent outside her window; it felt as if she were in a protective shell with all the chaos swirling around for her to see, but not a part of it. True to his word, Siege had built her a cozy fire indeed and somehow managed to sneak in during the night to keep it kindled. When she woke in the morning, the light was not much brighter. It was a terrible storm that Lyn was glad not to be in it. A knock came at her door, and assuming it could only be her host she wrapped herself in her blankets and invited him in. The door opened slowly to reveal the Skyehart heir with a tray of breakfast.

"
I brought you some food," he said as he awkwardly maneuvered around the furniture to place the tray by her bedside. As was evidently customary for him, he was still wearing his armor. Despite his good intentions, he was clumsy in the small space and knocked over an empty vase which shattered to the floor. Cursing to himself, he set down the tray and kneeled down to collect the broken bits. His cumbersome movement caused him to knock against the bedside table, rattling the tray threateningly. Lyn reached out quickly to stop it from crashing to the floor and Siege looked up at her with embarrassment written on his face. Saying nothing, he cradled the broken vase and took his leave, shutting the door somewhat roughly behind him.

Lyn choked back a giggle at the
absurdity of it but managed to keep her composure lest the young lord hear her and bruise his pride further. As Lyn began her breakfast in earnest, a thought occurred to her; while she had never been to a manor such as this, let alone lived in one, she had always been under the impression that servant kept the house. Lyn had seen no such individuals running about to sweep the rushes or prepare the fires or make breakfast. Siege had done it all himself. She frowned as she ate, ever more curious as to what exactly
happened
here that had made everyone go away, that had hollowed this place out into the shell it had become. 

When she had finished her morning
repast, she dressed quickly and gathered up the tray. When she opened her door, she found a torch had been put in one of the sconces. Taking it in hand, she made her way to the kitchen. As she approached the light clink of dishware met her ears, and as she opened the door she saw Siege was cleaning the dishes in a large sink. He looked to her and then nodded to an empty spot on the counter next to him. She sat the dishes down with a quiet thanks. The daylight, what little there was at least, did nearly nothing to dispel that haunting silence and she saw little reason to break it if Siege didn't first. She waited quietly while he finished.

“Come,”
he finally said to her quietly, and handed her some dried meat. He took a pail of oats and the two departed the kitchen to feed their companions. “The storm is in full force, wear this.” He draped a large cloak around her with a pull that cinched it shut. He cracked an awkward smile and stood back.

“What?” Lyn asked indignantly.

“Look,” he said, pointing to a mirror.

She immediately saw the reason for his amusement; the cloak, clearly made for a Skyehart-sized indi
vidual, nearly enveloped her. She looked ridiculous. Of course Lyn was a person of practicality, and she cared little for the appearance thereof; that being said, she saw why it would amuse and chuckled with good humor. “The good news is, if we get stranded out there I can live in this thing!”

--

While she would have liked to visit Alir further, feeding time was a rushed affair. The coop had been built with wind shields that protected it from the flurries and was designed in such a way to keep the birds safe and dry. Alir didn’t seem to mind it, and since he had the whole of it to himself Lyn did not feel overly guilty.

“Don’t get lazy in here,” Lyn said jovially. “We wouldn’t want to set back out and have you wholly dependent on me to feed you now, would w
e?”

Alir did not respond, but peered at her with one eye. Lyn stuck her tongue out at him and said
, “Yeah that’s right. You’d starve before you bent down to that level huh?” Alir puffed his feathers and spread his wings. “Alright alright, here’s the rest of your breakfast you baby.”

With a promise to visit again soon, Lyn turned and rushed back to the house. Her host followed soon after, bucket empty.

“How was Stygian this morning?” Lyn asked, hoping to prompt some conversation from Siege that entailed more than a few syllables.

Siege looked
at her, clearly confused. “Well,” he said simply. Gods, Lyn thought, between him and Marcho we have a pair of real conversationalists.

The two shed their cloaks and boots, drying them off as much as possible and han
ging them to do the rest. They stepped in to the empty hall and stood there for a moment. Lyn, not knowing what to say, simply stood quietly and looked at the floor.

To the Void with this, she thought, and blurted
, “Are you upset at me?”

Her concerned to
ne rang out in the vast hall and the tall blonde man next to her seemed surprised at not only her sudden outburst, but the volume of it.

He blinked and turned to her. “No, I...forgive me Lyn, it has been a very long time since, well, anyone else has been
here...” he scratched at his stubble. Lyn got the distinct impression he was nervous.

“I mean about last night. I went wandering around, maybe I shouldn’t have?”

“No, it’s fine. Honestly I was more surprised you had gotten in to that area of the house; I thought I had shut it all off and locked it up.”

Lyn, forgetting her consternation
, puzzled over this. “Really?” she asked slowly, “Because it was not locked when I went in. In fact, the door to your par...The chamber, was ajar.”

The young master of the
house froze, and turned to her quickly as if in great panic. “What did you just say? Ajar?” He grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her to look him in the eye. The steel and hard leather of his gloves pressed uncomfortably against her.

“Ow,” she said, b
ut upon meeting his eyes she let go her discomfort. The whites of his eyes were showing and there was something terrible in his gaze; a mixture of fear and hatred. “Yes, ajar, as in it was already open,” she said, nodding.

Without a second’s pause he let
go of her and stormed towards the passageway leading to the staircase she had discovered last night.

“I don’t understand,” Lyn said after him, but he paid no mind. Not one to be left out, Lyn followed behind him, albeit a few steps back. He quickly unlock
ed the door and stepped into the second hall. The shadows, much less prominent now, had receded back far enough to reveal a coating of dust on the whole place, as if it were an unvisited mausoleum. Siege Skyehart looked around quickly, as though trying to apprehend some villain. Evidently seeing nothing, he quickly approached the stair case and checked around for footprints.

“Curses!” h
e yelled, and began to ascend. He stopped momentarily at the spot on the banister where Lyn had put her hand, and dismissed it. He hurried to the chamber door at the top of the grand staircase and unlocked it, swinging it open. However, he did not go inside. He simply stood, not moving. Lyn approached quietly, unsure of the state of her host. For all she knew, he could be in some kind of psychotic episode.

“Lord Skyehart?” she ventured quietly. When no response was forthcoming, she said gently, “Siege?”

He finally blinked, and turned to her. “I am sorry, this must all seem very strange to you. Please, I have to check something, and then I will explain everything. If you don’t mind, meet me in the main hall; I will be there shortly.” He strode in to the room and shut the door behind him. The click of the door into the frame echoed behind her, and with a last look of concern, she returned to the hall as requested.

Lyn stood in the entrance hall for a time, idling about and waiting, but Siege didn’t come back. Bored, she decided to take one of the covers off the chairs near the fireplace and at least sit down. Of course, as soon
as she had done this the door to the connecting passageway opened and Siege stepped through it. He looked as though he was deep in thought, and strode distractedly to a chair. He promptly lowered himself in to it, not bothering to remove the shroud.

Shru
gging to herself, Lyn remained seated and waited until her host was ready to speak. He took his time, though, and Lyn found herself growing impatient. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, tapped her foot idly on the floor, and coughed a time or two but it did not seem to faze Siege in the least.

Finally he said, “My parents died, some years ago. I was 11 when they went, my brother was 9. It was difficult for us, I think understandably.” He paused, picking his next words. Lyn’s mind raced. She knew his famil
y was gone, obviously they’d have to be if he was the last of his line. But hearing it from him, making it real, that was something else entirely. She was caught on his brother though; she didn’t have any legitimate cause to think so, but somehow she had the impression he was an only child. He had mentioned his parents died, so what happened to his brother?

Her ponderings were interrupted when Siege continued, “For a while, it felt like it wasn’t real. We were still here, in the estate. Our people still wo
rked here, taking care of the animals and the grounds. We kept the house open at that time. And for a little while things continued like they would have anyway; our tutors kept instructing us, the snows came and went, the sun rose and fell. And suddenly...it just, stopped. Just came crashing down, as if everything had been held with an indrawn breath, and couldn’t be held any longer. And with a rush, the world we knew ended. The groundskeepers left one by one, the kitchen staff, the horse master, one after another.”

His face was drawn tight, brow furrowed. With a deep breath, he continued, “Before long it was just a few of us left. My brother, he just didn’t...he wasn’t the same. He felt...different. I
tried my best to help him and guide him, but something just wasn’t there in him anymore. It felt like I was talking with a ghost. A memory of who he used to be. He was never violent, never angry before. But then he started lashing out. He started abusing the few of us left, verbally and physically. There was nothing anyone could do to calm him down. He wouldn’t sleep, he wouldn’t eat. It’s like he was rejecting the entire world.”

He stood suddenly and began pacing. Lyn blinked and watched him. He still seemed unstable to her, one moment reticent and stoic, the
next angry and energetic. She supposed she could understand, though. With such trauma as a young boy, he must have felt so alone in the world. And he seemed to have lived as a hermit for quite some time, it was no wonder he was a bit odd. Though, she had lived essentially as a hermit, too...she wondered if she seemed strange to people in a similar capacity.

“I need a moment,” he said, “Please, let me show you to our armory; you can do some training and get some physical activity. I know what it feels like
to be cooped up in here.” He walked her to a side path and through a small room that must have been the servants’ quarters when the manor was filled. Through another door they came to a dark, windowless room. Lyn shivered. “Don’t worry, you’ll warm up as you get moving. I’ll get some light in here.” He turned and went back through the door, which swung shut behind him.

“Hey!” Lyn yelled.

“Oops, apologies...” Siege said distractedly, opening the door up again. Shortly, he returned with some torches and placed them in sconces around the room. It was a sizable room, indeed! It held quite a bit of equipment of all varieties; there were a few archery dummies, some sword training dummies, wooden peg people for hand to hand, and open floor space for sparring.

“
This is wonderful!” Lyn said, delighted to have the opportunity again to hone her skills. Holing oneself up against the storms did not a warrior make, and Lyn was eager to practice once again.

“There are
armaments lining the north most wall, and padding. If you need assistance, there’s...”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lyn interjected rather abruptly. “I know my way around, thank you.”

Siege was silent for a moment, then said simply, “As you wish,” and left.

Lyn regretted snapping, but was doing her utmost
not to appear as a damsel in distress. She wanted it to be clear that she was an equal and that she could take care of herself. Putting no further thought to the matter, she began her training in earnest.

--

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but she was exhausted. She picked up after herself and blew out the torches, keeping one with her. As she left the training arena and passed back through the servants’ quarters in to the main hall, she saw that night had fallen. Siege sat in the same chair he had been in, hands under his chin, staring out the window absently. Lyn went in to the kitchen to retrieve some dried meat from the pantry, and went out to feed Alir. The storm seemed to have subsided a bit, but Lyn was still bundled up well. The hood pulled up around her face cut off her peripheral vision, which disallowed her to see the great three-eyed wolf watching her as she approached the coop. As she came up to Alir, she saw he was restless and ruffled. With a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the storm, she turned to see the demon sitting a mere few feet away, nearly within reach.