The celebration in memory of my mother lasted late into the night and by that time, everyone had ate, drank and danced until satisfied and exhausting themselves. Nordrem and his people slept out on the grass, blankets and capes laid out. None of the beds in the castle could accommodate the height of any of them, except for the young, but even they stayed out with their parents.
The rest of us made our way inside the estates building, taking buckets of empty cups, plates and cutlery into the kitchen to soak over night in the large stone basin. Empty wine bottles and the empty barrels of beer and mead were stacked against the far wall in the kitchen, all to be used when the fall harvest was completed.
The extra food had already been brought in earlier, with the help of Nordrem's people. I had a question for Nordrem that had been bothering me, and when he was bringing in some items, I asked him to speak with me a moment.
"Nordrem, I am curious. My mother has been dead almost twenty years outside the nether space. Which is equal to hundreds of years here. The way you and your people spoke about my mother though, you seemed close with not only her but Soot's as well. How is it that you only became aware of my mothers death when I informed you?" I had asked him, crossing my arms as I waited to hear his answer.
He had sighed, giving a somber glance at the floor before returning his attention to me. He is tired, but still takes the time to answer me. "Your grandfather would come visit and converse with us, with his family, all the time before Veirda returned to the Elements. After she became ill, the visits stopped as they took care of her. The only time we would speak is when myself or others, visited to help them out. He slowly became harder to talk to, drinking his sorrow away, angry and suffering, watching the love of his life slowly, painfully, fade away."
His exhaustion sags his shoulders, that have already been heavier with loss.
"Since the day of Veirda's death when Abigale left, he's kept to himself, not wanting company. We respected his grief, leaving him alone. We waited for the day he'd come visit us again, but it never came. When I found you in the forest, I was not intending to to find anyone. I was out merely to check some night fishing traps I had set in the river. I heard you scream, so I went to check on what was screaming like that." Nordrem shrugs, "So now that your question has been answered, I will tell you to rest well, Rakara. There is still time for questions and talk later."
He turns and leaves me in the kitchen, processing the information. "Elements, help me, please?" I beg them, hoping that my prayers will be heard to help me heal and move on.
I am still angry at Soot's, still angry about my mother, and I don't know how to let this rage go. Even knowing more of the situation, I can't let this rage go.
I head upstairs to the room, clenching and relaxing my fists, trying to will my anger away, but none of it works. Instead of going to my room, I take a left at the top of the stairs and go down a different hallway. I've never been down this way before, and I have not seen anyone else go this way. It'll be perfect for me to vent some anger.
My focus is on my thoughts as I walk, continuing in random directions when I would reach a split in the hall. I finally stopped in front of a normal door, no longer able to go mindlessly down halls. I take note of the dust around the area, it wasn't thick, but I could tell this area was not cleaned often. I turn the knob to the door in front of me, letting it groan open, to reveal a darkened room.
I turn to the hall where the halls are illuminated by moonlight, before I turn and enter the room. It takes a few moments before my eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. However, I can make out curtains on one wall, light peaking out from behind them. Dragging them open, dust flies free, itching my nose.
I sneeze, "Achoo, achoo, achoo!" Effectively throwing more dust in the air. I put my handkerchief over my nose and mouth, looking around the room.
"It's a living room?" I mumble, seeing a comfortable couch and padded chairs, facing a fireplace, black with old soot and logs stacked next to it. Small tables sit near the chairs and a larger one sits in front of the couch before the fireplace. The moon was bright enough to see some details around the room, so I decide to explore. It was a welcomed distraction from my own anger.
I walk around the room, taking note of the paintings of on the walls. Some were of mountain ranges very familiar to me, there was no denying the behemoths of the range and where they were located. Moving on, I spotted a painting of one of the cities, but which one, I was not sure of. The mountains were not in the picture and the surrounding land did not look like Lagford.
There were paintings of streets and businesses, flowers and animals. "Whoever painted these had talent." I murmur as I come across a lamp table. I check the lamp and the slosh of liquid has me hopeful. I open up the drawer on the table and find the lamp starter. I squeeze the tongs and get a spark, so I remove the chimney and squeeze the tongs again, making the flint strike out more sparks. It takes a few tries, but the wick lights, and I replace the chimney. Setting the flame up to give more light, I raise the lamp to look around better noticing a door and an open arch. I go through the open archway near the fireplace, and end up in a kitchen with an open pantry. Finding nothing of interest, I walk back out and open the door to enter a hallway.
It's a short hallway with five doors, two on each side and one on the end. I open the door to my right and find a bathroom. I turn and open the one to the left and find a sewing and art room, neatly displayed and with half finished projects on an easel and next to a tailors machine. My footsteps tap gently on the stone flooring, as I take a closer look at the painting. It's of a child playing with toys. I walk over to the machine, finding a dress skirt pinned and reading to be sewn.
"I wonder who all this was for?" I mumble, seeing more paintings stacked and leaned against the walls. I don't bother turning them over to see them, but instead exit the room and enter the next one on the left. It's just an empty bedroom, so I move to the next room on the right, which has more character. Books line shelves over the bed, all within easy reach. Reading the titles, I can see they enjoyed books about adventures and exploring. The wardrobe still holds clothes, pants and shirts, with a few dresses and aprons hang in it. There's a box that I pull out and open, finding interesting looking rocks and mineral specimens, an oddly shaped piece of smooth wood, a shell, and a lock of dark, straight, brown hair.
I put the box back and exit the room, entering the last one. I find another bedroom, with an attached bathroom, filled with little items and books. Small toys line one shelf, another holds hand carved wooden figurines. A couple of jewelry boxes are sitting around a vanity mirror, with cut crystal perfume bottles and brushes. I walk over to them and pick them up, inspecting them, enjoying the still fragrant scents. I take notice the brushes still contain long, straight, brown hairs still stuck in the bristles. I look at the jewelry boxes, opening up the one that sits closest to the brushes. When I look down into it, I reach in and pull out a string of pearls, with a matching bracelet and earrings.
I pull out a few other items and admire them, before putting them back. I go to the bed and see a painting of a family. I pick up the painting knowing that it will be of the same excellent skill, and nearly drop it.
"Momma looked just me..." I carefully stroke the picture, feeling like I was looking at a portrait of me, like I had a twin.
'The mother in this picture must be Veirda then. I recognize Soot's.' I conclude to myself.
I look at Veirda, my grandmother, who has sun kissed, but light colored skin, green eyes, long, brown hair that's braided off to the side, and she is beaming with a kind, happy smile. She was immensely beautiful too. Soot's did not look much different then he does now, except his beard was kept cleaner and trimmed neater.
I sit on the bed, setting the lamp down, to look at the picture better. I place it back on the table after a little while, noticing the little drawer on the side of the table. I gently pull it out and find a journal by the looks of it and it's embossed with - Veirda Glass's Journal.
My grandmothers journal.
"Should I read this?" I ask myself out loud. I open it, just to glance over. A few things catch my attention, and I huff.
"Might as well start from the beginning." I lean back and get comfortable, slipping my shoes off before picking the journal back up and reading about my grandmothers life, all from her perspective.