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Ch 3 - Preparations

  Fiachra

  The hours after Belenus’s departure were quiet and filled with too many conflicting thoughts. It didn’t feel like a return to normalcy, rather there was an air of waiting and a kind of displacement that infiltrated his mind. Remembering Belenus’s heirloom in his pocket, he retreated into his room for privacy, knowing Brunaidh nor anyone else would intrude as long as he was there. He sat at his desk chair propping his feet up on the window seat and took the brooch out to study.

  It was made of elegant silver metalwork in a penannular design, an open circle with an attached pin across the diameter. The body of the brooch looked like a crescent moon with delicate scrollwork and the tips capped in gold. The pin was fastened to the moon with a septagram. He turned it around in his hand, tilting it in different directions to catch the light and showing different details as he did. A soft feeling like a hum began to pulse through his fingers as he examined it and the longer he held it the more noticeable the feeling became. It was disconcerting in its unfamiliarity.

  From the way the brooch reacted to physical touch it obviously contained magic, but what was the question. Despite feeling unnerved, he continued to hold it and closed his eyes to better perceive its energetic aspects.

  An impression of feelings and images formed in his mind that created a phantom picture of an innumerable number of elves. The clearest and most prevalent face was one he recognized as Belenus. From there he could discern familial similarities to a point, until faces shifted too much and became too faint. He could practically trace the lineage of elves that carried it, imbuing pieces of themselves over a great many millennia to create something powerful. The brooch seemed to reach out to him and he hastily put it down before it connected. He had no desire to impart any piece of himself in an object, especially when he had no place to.

  He looked out the window to clear his mind, wondering how much time had passed. From what he could tell from his position, there was plenty of light left in the day. He stood, stretching his legs by walking around the room looking for something to contain the brooch. After some tests and searching, he was pleased to find a black drawstring pouch of a slightly bigger size that the fabric wouldn’t be pierced through. He nestled it carefully in a desk drawer out of sight.

  With nothing better to do, he left the room and wandered through the hall. He passed by the spare bedroom and found the door open with Brunaidh inside gathering bedding into her small arms. When she noticed him, her expression brightened from focus to friendly and he returned it in kind, while stepping out of her way. She traipsed past, overburdened with blankets.

  He wondered briefly if he would be able to detect Belenus’s scent if he held the blankets as closely as Brunaidh did and what scent that would be. The intrusive thought halted his tracks, abashed, he stood beside the doorway long after Brunaidh left. He only found the will to move after pushing the thought away and focusing instead on how to spend the rest of the day. He meandered downstairs into the main sitting room, pausing once more. He remained standing about, contemplating various pastimes until Brunaidh walked by, stopping upon seeing him and approaching with a stern frown.

  “You’re not one to stand around and do nothing, go do something with your time. Go outside before you distract me from cleaning.” She put her hands on her hips and stared him down despite being at most half his size and looking up.

  He laughed, finally coming back to himself. “Alright, you have a point, this isn’t like me at all. I’ll be in my atelier if you need me.” He left Brunaidh to her work and she seemed satisfied.

  Before leaving the house another plan formed and he detoured to the kitchen. It was empty but showed signs of recent activity with various foods and spices lined up along the counter in preparation for the next meal. He took no interest, walking past all of it into the pantry for the store of honey. Only a single jar remained, full enough for a batch of honey cakes with little excess to remain. A trip to procure more would be necessary within the week.

  He set the jar and the rest of the ingredients on a counter clear of anything else. It had been a while since he made them and felt it would be greatly appreciated amongst the fae who helped tend his grounds if he offered them a batch. It was fortunate their good favor was easy to tend with kindness and a simple routine bake.

  He spared no expense of effort for each cake to be perfect, offering anything less would be unforgivable. It took a couple of hours, but it was well worth it by the exceptionally delicious aroma that filled the kitchen.

  As always, he was gratified to have made an extra for himself to test quality. He waited just long enough for his cake to cool before savoring it in a few bites. The others were divvied up into separate cloth bundles, minus two plated nicely next to the food preparations for Brunaidh to find when she entered the kitchen presumably soon.

  He left through the nearest door that passed by the herb garden, taking the quickest route to the greenhouse. The sky was clouding over ominously, giving way to a sense of apprehension to be caught outside and chance the cakes being left unclaimed. He called to Enaid, a nymph who maintained the greenhouse and gardens, leaving a cake bundle for her on a table outside of the greenhouse. He then called for Phouka, the beast fae who resided in the stable, leaving his bundle on a low branch outside the door. Both were whisked off quickly after a glance to the dark sky. Satisfied, he sought refuge in the atelier, setting the final bundle inside for Gronw, who would surely come by nightfall.

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  It wasn’t but a few minutes after shutting the door that the beginning patters of rain could be heard and seen spattering on the windows, quickly increasing in intensity. He spared a moment to enjoy the sound in combination with the dim room before lighting a lantern, he could see well enough without it but it was too inconvenient a strain when it came to fine-tuned work.

  The room looked in order minus a few obvious jars missing, but looks could be deceiving and it proved true upon taking closer stock of missing supplies. To gain ground on what needed to be replaced, he wrote out a list marking priority and where each ingredient could be found. A considerable number of those items were collected by Belenus and it was apparent he had a good eye, choosing materials that were particularly difficult to get ahold of.

  He had a feeling at the time that it would have been wiser to only let Belenus take a portion of each selection rather than the whole stock, but he had been too agitated to think clearly. Understanding the full situation now caused his thoughts to twist in guilt with a sickening feeling seeping in. He couldn’t fault Belenus for his reaction and for taking advantage of his offer. His temper had been misplaced from the beginning and he had pushed too far. There was no way to undo his actions, the most he could wish for was a way to offset them somehow.

  The list in his hands sparked an idea for an apology. He would spend his time gathering materials that could be of specific use to Belenus to gift him upon his return visit. He collected his writing materials and the lantern over to his research nook before selecting a few books that would likely catch Belenus’s interest, including the volume he had browsed when here. He settled into a plush chair that inhabited a large component of the research nook, arranging everything in hand on small tables around him.

  The comfort of the chair and the steady sound of rain beyond the walls beckoned his full attention. He closed his eyes for a long moment, relishing the sound, soothed and relaxed within that short span ready to delve full force into research.

  By hours end, he had a list several pages long and neatly organized by what could be gathered, hunted, and traded. The most efficient start would be to trade with Aerona, who lived closest. He would see what she had in store in addition to their usual barter for honey. Afterward, he would go through the list and procure as much as possible before Belenus returned. However, first, he needed to craft salves and elixirs for Aerona.

  Brunaidh came in and interrupted his scheming, insisting he eat dinner and refused to bring it to him on grounds that he had to take a break. Eventually, he complied realizing how stiff his muscles had become from spending all day cooped up in a chair. After that realization, Brunaidh didn’t have to cajole him further to keep up meals. He balanced his time wisely with routine patrols for a chance to exercise and a change of pace from long hours toiling in the atelier. The pattern continued tirelessly for days until he felt satisfied that everything was prepared to make the trip.

  On the day of travel, Fiachra summoned Phouka to call upon the nearby dire wolf pack and request Caomh to ride. Of all the wolves, Caomh was the most agreeable and socialized. Fiachra interacted with the nearest wolf pack generations before Caomh’s litter, always with a mind to have a mount as needed if agreed upon. While he awaited their return, he spent the day preparing for travel, packing light to suit Caomh’s limitations. It wasn’t until evening that Phouka returned with Caomh in tow.

  The two together were an interesting sight. Phouka was taller than the other fae of his house with a muscular pear-shaped body and horse ears that stood well above a wild mane of hair. He was almost as inky dark as Caomh, who trailed behind and towered above Phouka like a nightmarish shadow. Phouka led Caomh to the stable to be readied and cued Fiachra to fasten his summer cloak, light and oiled to protect against rain.

  The last of the sun dipped out of sight and the lanterns were lit when Caomh emerged from the stable ready. The fae of the household gathered, even Gronw appeared from the edges of the forest, to bade Fiachra well on his travel. He mounted the black beast wrapping his arms around part of Caomh’s thick neck and holding onto the long silky black fur, nudging him as a signal to run. Caomh lopped out of the clearing of his house and into the dense woods, picking up speed with ease and grace.

  They travelled through the night at a hard and fast pace, that with any other beast, would take longer than a day and a half to reach Aerona. Their mutual keen eyesight kept navigation smooth. They flew across the winding paths dodging around trees and over streams effortlessly with barely any noise, passing through the forest in large bounds as the night passed. The stretch between Fiachra and Aerona’s respective grounds was a quiet one, with wildlife that seldom hunted anything as large as them.

  They slowed to look for a suitable place to call a den when the forest turned misty and blue with the hint of dawn light. Caomh settled for a copse of trees with low branches weighted with layers of moss that bowed to create a cave-like canopy. It made for a nice illusion to act as night and conceal their presence. Caomh stood patiently in the shadows waiting to settle for sleep until after Fiachra freed him of the pack holster. Caomh snuffled around the canopy ground until he established his space by pawing a clear spot and circling. Fiachra left him to his customs and stretched out the beginnings of soreness, but as tired as he was, he couldn’t relax until running a perimeter check around the surrounding area.

  He ate while Caomh slept, propping himself against his pack, using it as a pillow, and listening to the world around him. Numerous species of birds were in spirited song of their own languages combining harmoniously. Occasionally, small creatures would rustle and pass nearby, but none passed within the copse presumably picking up on Caomh’s scent. There was an overall sense of subtle fullness of life in the forest that filled him with contentment. Eventually, the sounds blended and droned into the background. He lulled into a half-awake half dreamlike state until finally, he curled up against the makeshift pillow sleeping under his cloak.

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