Post by Liessel on Apr 22, 2024 13:19:17 GMT -5
The hole was gone and the stone scaled fairy along with it.
"Where do we go now?" Adeline asked, trying to get a good look at where they had ended up.
"We're looking for a very old Yew tree," Liessel answered, ducking down where she stood slightly as if that would help her see past some of the lower hanging branches of the rowan trees they were standing under. Where they had wound up was the kitchen garden of a small cottage whose chimney was puffing away little clouds of hearthfire smoke. Where they were was well sheltered, keeping them unseen, "That is all I can tell you. I was told that I'd have to find where stands on my own, as well as figuring out a way to speak with it." She was whispering, and looked Adeline's way just as her words were falling quiet.
"I've never been here before." Adelines brows furrowed. This suddenly didn't feel like the best of ideas, traveling to a strange town in the middle of the night.
"Perhaps we should start with exiting these people's garden before we cause alarm." Already she was walking towards the property line, hoping that it would lead them to a main road.
She did not need to tell Adeline that she had never been there either. that statement would have been all too obvious, even before the moment when she was following behind Adeline toward the edge of the property. Liessel was in full agreement about getting out of there before someone saw them. How would they explain it? Two young women skulking about beneath the Rowans in the middle of the night, in a private garden?
Complications they didn't need.
Fortingall was not a large village. It was a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of town with buildings made of stone and wood, whitewashed against what would have been the lush and green backdrop of Scotland's countryside.
There was no gate at the edge of the property, but there was a low, loose stone wall that had an opening in it big enough for one person to fit through at a time.
As they came up to the opening, Liessel cast a glance behind them and whispered to Adeline, "How did you get come by the mode of transportation we used to get here? That -- fairy tunnel?"
"Cyrus." She answered before stepping through the stone opening. "He made a deal with the fairy to transport my family to Scotland."
Stepping further into the road, Adelines head tilted up to see if there were any signs of large trees in the distance.
"Surprisingly, my blood is known to the Fae." She glanced at Liessel. "At least some of them."
Liessel was slipping out behind Adeline as she listened, turning to look the other way, "Your blood is known to them? Through association with Captain Singh, or through some other means?" She asked before turning back toward Adeline slightly.
Overhead the moon was full, casting down its faint silver light as it just began its climb into the sky. Out there, without all the smog and soot of London, the skies above sparkled and danced with the billions of pin-prick stars that lined the heavens.
"No. Cyrus has nothing to do with that." She looked over at Liessel, raising a brow at the 'Captain Singh' comment.
A topic for later perhaps.
Where were the trees? Adeline hoped they would not be spending the night wandering aimlessly in hopes of accidently stumbling on this Yew tree. Maybe they should have waited until morning to come, then they would have had the locals to point them in a direction.
"It is hard to explain. I don't even know if I fully understand it. That fairy knew my bloodline before it knew me. It recognized my ancestors used to share stories and sing songs together. It's why I am granted safe passage through the tunnels."
"The Bards --" Liessel made that connection swiftly as the topic came up, turning her attention to Adeline for a moment more before motioning for Adeline to move with her, "Lady Ashbroom mentioned to me that you had ancestors who were Bards. Let's try this way." A small motion was made, off toward Liessel's left toward what looked like a church.
There were trees growing sporadically through the village, but what did a Yew look like? Liessel was drawing a piece of paper from her bag, one that had a sketch on it of the leaves that belonged to the tree they were searching for.
"Dame Ashbroom spoke about me?" Adeline shot a glance to Liessle while they hunted. "What for?"
"We were," Liessel started to answer, and felt a small smile snake up that drew that quick response of her's to an end, causing her to start again, "I had told her that I could feel something like a heartbeat from the land of The Bells -- I was trying to describe to her and the Fae, and Temmis, just what it was like. I failed at first, not having the words for it, not knowing how to describe what I was feeling and how it filled me -- but she mentioned bards and poets. Your name came up. She told me that your ancestors had been Bards, and that is perhaps why you are so good with your words -- with your stories."
"It would explain why they call me 'Wordweaver." She concluded. "It's impossible to know without running into similar faeries like my stoned friend. I do know that my rite of passage is exchanged for a story or song. It does not have to be lyrical, only there must be some music."
A much better price than the three feathers Cyrus sacrificed for her.
Seeing that they were moving into a more condensed version of the town, Adeline gestured towards the left of their path. "Let's try this way."
Liessel shifted to follow easily, giving Adeline a small nod before doing so, "It would explain "Wordweaver" yes. And the need for sung words. The key to that being harmony -- a way to touch through sound. Your ancestors, being Bards, and you carrying that because of them, could be capable of it."
Adeline raised a brow after Liessel summarized what she'd just said. She wasn't sure if the repeating was of nerves, or because she didn't know what else to offer except what Adeline herself presented to the table. But if that were the case...
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," Liessel answered, her boots making soft noises against the dirt road they walked on.
"You switch formalities faster than anyone I know. In one breath I am Adeline. The next I am Miss Webber. It is a whiplash I am not fond of but one you create often." She said. "In society, the way that I was raised, you either use the formal name of a person or their given name. The formal name for acquaintances or associates. The given name if you are considered friends. When you switch from Miss Webber to Adeline and then back again, it is a sign that you have taken displeasure in the person and you've put up a wall of formality. That leaves me confused and conflicted on our foundation."
Liessel was quiet for several moments as she gave thought to what Adeline told her. Her voice came, then, steady and in its usual quiet tone, "I am sorry for that confusion, Adeline. In Harroway, it is respectful to use formal names when addressing The People, always. It -- it took me a great deal of time to get used to using the less formal and more familiar names of everyone I've come to know here. I still call Avery and Felix 'Mister' from time to time, and the same with Gerold, too. Aurelia, I know, on occasion I've called Miss Dumitru. But I do not really ever notice when it happens, and you are the first to have said anything about it. I will be more mindful, but please -- if it bothers you -- let me know if I have done it again."
"I've watched you try so hard to mimic good society." Adeline said. "You try to move the way a lady would move. Try to speak how a lady would speak and keep yourself silent the way they they are trained to do. I thought you were doing it on purpose to nettle me."
"I have tried to mimic society here, yes," She looked Adeline's way as they walked, taking her eyes off of the visual hunt for the moment, "but what is proper here is not so different from what is proper in Harroway, at least not for someone of my station. But my silence is not a part of that. My silence is due to my training -- it is due to being a Sister, and I never tried to do any of it to get under your skin, Adeline. Not once."
She thought it was interesting that it was her silence that Liessel hooked onto. Interesting, but perhaps not safe to talk about. The letter had been written and Adeline meant the words she put in. But even so, that didn't mean she couldn't shake the need to hedge her thoughts and opinions around the former Priestess.
"That is good to know." She said with a little nod. "Thank you for telling me."
Ahead of them in the silver-cast darkness of the full moon they were coming close to the church and its yard, and across from it a building that could have been a hotel. Liessel caught Adeline's nod in a glance and heard those words. She could have let it rest there, she might very well should have. But Adeline Webber demanded truth, even if it was an unspoken demand.
"When I was a child," she said after a moment, and after having returned Adeline's nod with one of her own, "All I heard was stories about The Guardians and their great works. Stories of how the Sisters were needed, and why they worked the way that they did. The People they served were served with the utmost respect, given every and all consideration that would lift them above the Sisters, for the Sisters were to be humble. They were servants, sworn and bound to help and heal. They -- we -- protected The Gates and helped The People find their way. We carried the voices of The Guardians within us and were blessed vessels. That required certain things from us. Certain things from me -- things I didn't know how to value at the time they were taken from me because I hadn't been given the time to know their worth. And I gave it all up so easily because I was meant to serve. My quiet, the way I act, how I speak, it all came from that."
"We were both forced to be quiet in different ways." Adeline said. "You were told it was an act of service to your People. I was told it was because I had no place among men; my only purpose in life was to marry well and produce babies. My choices were to settle or roost and I..." Her brows pinched.
"I wanted to fly. There were so many who tried to clip my wings, whether they intended to or not. I had no one there to teach me. No one where to help me off the ground when my wings were not strong enough to withstand the wind. You are very lucky, Liessel." She glanced at her. "You have many waiting to watch you soar but willing to break your fall in case you don't."
When Adeline glanced her way, she'd do it just in time to catch sight of Liessel bringing a hand up to wipe at her eyes.
"I am fortunate," Liessel said after a moment, "To have come to know so many. And I am sorry that I had come to meet you after the fact, Adeline, because I would have wanted to help you that very same way. I do, still, regardless of how far you've learned to fly. Those people who tried to clip your wings, I think they are afraid of who you are."
"It's hard to tell when you say things like that if it is because you truly mean them or if it is because of years of requirements and training have taught you to say comforting things like that. It's hard for me to decipher where the Liessel who was meant to serve ends, and the Liessel who wishes to stretch her own wings begins. Most of the time, they sound identical."
What could she say? Where was the line that truly divided the Sister from the other Liessel? She drew in a breath, "I know that you keep your circle of trust small, and for good reason, but I ask you to trust me when I tell you that it is genuine when I say such things. Believe me when I tell you that I want to see you succeed and reach new heights, and that I would like to help you get there. It is not done from service, but from an actual desire to see you find good things in your life -- people that make you happy, things that you find joy in."
"You speak as if I am a walking tragedy." She said with a rueful smile. "Is that how you see me?"
"What did I say that would make you think that?" Liessel asked in return, "That I see you as a walking tragedy?"
"It's the way you say it." Adeline explained. "As though I do not have good things already in my life."
Liessel felt herself frown there in the silver glow of moonlit as they got closer to the church, "I did not think well wishes were so exclusive, and I certainly did not mean them that way. But, since it came across that way, what do I know of your life, Adeline?"
"You know much about it." Adeline answered with a raised shrug. "I have not kept any secrets from you in the way I was raised, my years at schooling, and then beyond."
Liessel glanced Adeline's way as they walked, "The happiest I've seen you is when you speak of your family -- your nephew, and your brothers, and the childhood you've had with them. And, when you talk of Cyrus, of course. All else sounded so dire and isolated."
"I could say the same for you." She said with a returning look. "Although, I do not even know if you're happy even when you're with Aurelia and the Flynns. I've never heard you laugh and it is quite rare when you smile."
"I am very happy with them," Liessel answered, "Laughing has not been the -- easiest -- thing to do, though it has gotten easier. As has smiling. I carried my fear with me through so much, and I kept myself locked away for so long because I was afraid that if I didn't the weight of everything that I had to bear would crush me. I still fear that, but not nearly as much as I had before we went to Harroway."
"Why are you afraid?"
"Because," It took her a few moments to work the words free after that, pulling them from a place that she'd only once brushed before in the company of others. Liessel breathed out a slow breath in attempt to gather her voice and hold it under control as she said, "One of the worst lessons I learned while growing up was one that I taught to myself. It was that I wasn't good enough, that in order to be -- good enough -- I had to disappear. I had to become what they needed me to be, and I couldn't -- I couldn't do that as myself. As a child, I didn't feel nearly strong enough for it, so I made myself strong enough."
The hand around the handle of her bag tightened as she shook her head, "I'm finding my life, Adeline, but that 'not good enough' still finds me at night when I am alone, and it reminds me of just how far I have yet to go."
"Because of that you are afraid to let yourself become happy?" Adeline guessed. She'd stopped walking now to get a closer look at Liessel.
The wind kicked up, sending with it the scent of needles and sweetness.
Adeline stopped, but Liessel kept on for a pace more before she realized that Adeline was now slightly behind her. that was when she came to a stop too and turned as the wind picked up. Her hands came together, both clasping the handle of her bag before her, "That -- probably sounds really stupid. 'Not good enough' to be happy."
"I don't think it's stupid." Adeline said.
"No?" She asked, letting her surprise come through on her voice.
"No." She shook her head. "I think that if you were told that you were not good enough, that you had to be a certain way for others to accept you, that sticks. It's like a splinter beneath your thumb and the more you try to dig, the deeper it goes."
An owl flew over their heads, more felt than heard. A stirring of air with a brief flash of white underwing in the moonlight, if they'd been mice it would have had them. It soared down, and then its round-tipped wings bore it without a flap upwards and over the low, aged wall of a churchyard. It disappeared without so much as a rustle into the branches beyond, a shadow among shadows.
Seconds later, another owl shot straight across the little road toward the same church, the same yard, the same shadows, followed by a smaller pair of birds, harder to make out but certainly not owls.
To listen, there were other wings out there. The moonlight found a few of them. All disappeared to the side of Fortingall Church.
Her shoulders dropped, slumping with the weight of the bag at in her hands, "That is a very good analogy for it, Adeline: a splinter. I need to find a way to dig it out and rip it free, or at the least a way to quiet it when it finds me--"
The flash of white, the flap of wings, and the heavy shadow that swooped overhead cut her words off and had her head turning as the first owl disappeared into the churchyard, followed by another flash of white as another owl shot across the street ahead of them.
There were more wings stirring up the night out there. Liessel gave up her stillness, quietly motioning for Adeline to follow her as she turned and started toward the church, and its courtyard.
"I guess that's our cue to follow." Adeline replied.
Quickly she glanced around the small village, trying to see if there were any others who were awake just then or if it was still the two of them. For now, it seemed as though it was just her and the birds.
"If you try to dig too much," She continued their conversation as they headed towards the church. "Then you risk pushing the splinter deeper. But leaving it alone will only cause it to fester."
"What is the answer, then?" Liessel asked lowly, her eyes on the shadows of the church yard while her ears were on the world around her, "Small steps? Inch it out bit by bit?" Her glance toward Adeline was brief, there and then back her attention went to the church they were heading toward.
"Maybe." She said with a little nod. "I am a fan of small victories."
More shadows were there for watchful eyes to find, fast-moving and not all as silent as the owls. They were drawn across the graveyard, sometimes flashes of darkness in front of the church itself. At this hour, the houses of Fortingall were hunched, still, and lightless. But the closer Adeline and Liessel drew to the graveyard, the more a sense of busy motion could be picked up from within the branches of a conifer that smelled winter-sweet here, even in summer. The branches made a many-armed dome larger than the church.
Liessel felt herself frown, "I feel I am running out of patience for small victories."
The sight of those flashing shadows was hard to catch. That was, Liessel couldn't tell exactly what was carrying those shadows, but coming into the church yard one thing became apparent. Liessel tilted her head back, and she felt herself squint up into the dome-branches of the tree. "I think we found it," She breathed as her feet found the ground of the yard, space between tombstones that were simple in design.
"I do not know how to help you with that." Adeline confessed. Nearing the tree, the younger woman took a half step back as if uncertain. "Do you want me to go with you or remain here?" She wasn't sure if this was a journey Liessel needed to make alone. After all, she was by herself when Adeline discovered her.
Their topic of conversation was set aside by sight of the winter-sweet tree. Adeline's voice brought Liessel's eyes back down from searching the twined and reaching branches of the tree, crowded as they were with whatever animals had taken shelter there, "I -- do not know what will happen, and I had planned on making this trip alone. But you are here. What could another set of eyes, or ears, hurt?"
Was it a wise choice? Liessel's eyes found the branches overhead again, and then she was lifting the piece of paper she'd held in her hand, now wrinkled and creased from carrying her bag two handed, to compare the shapes of the leaves to what had been sketched there. The paper was lowered, and she stepped forward into the dark shadow of the tree's dome.
Having no idea what to expect, her blue eyes took a glance at the tree. It looked normal enough, she supposed. Long branches. A wide trunk. Roots that went deep within the ground. What was to come from it was the mystery? Would its bark split wide open and form a face that would talk to Liessel? Or was there some spirit lingering around that had the answers to her questions? Any one of them sounded like something from a fairy tale.
She hoped it was one with a happy ending.
"If you are certain." She nodded, stepping with Liessel.