The Missing Stone

Exploration

She wakes up cold. Mildred shivers, curling further in herself. A draft blows through the broken glass windows in the cathedral, brushing its cold fingers over her fur. She shivers again and peels her eyes open, pawing for the source of warmth that had lulled her to sleep last night. Nothing but dusty wooden pew. She sighs, unfurling from the furball she had curled into.

She is alone. The sun hasn't risen yet, the sky a dusky purple. Mildred hops along the bridge wall, her destination the fireplace she had slept by on her first night. She follows her tracks back to the training grounds. It's eerily quiet, the wooden training weapons set neatly in rows.

They're probably still asleep. She resumes her backtracking past the gazebo where she had shared tea and snacks with Annette and Mercedes and into the dining hall.

She pauses. The hall is filled with servants and staff, but Mildred spies no familiar faces.

Where is Ashe? Ingrid? Felix? Mildred flattens her ears at a passing cleric attempting to pet her, and rushes out down the stairs to the fishing dock. The fishing poles and bait lay undisturbed. She notices a glass building to the right of the dock, and Mildred walks past the large doors, immediately catching sight of the professor tending to a group of flowers.

She internally sighs in relief. Mildred figures, from her unconscious reaction, that she doesn't like being left alone. Her tail sways upright in friendliness, smelling a pale blue flower. The scent is quite pleasant, so she noses the petals, then sneezes at the irritation of the pollen. She thinks she hears a chuckle behind her and she whirls around, seeing the professor smiling softly. Her ears flatten in chagrin, but she internally preens at making the professor laugh.

It looks like the professor is finishing up, shedding the dirt-caked gloves and thanking the monastery gardener. Mildred follows him out, across the courtyard and the market, and to the stables, where she is shocked to find horses packed with weapons and supplies, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Ashe preparing the mounts. She pads over to Ingrid, rubbing her side against her leg instinctively. She smiles at the sight of her, sighing tiredly.

"We'll be back soon, little one." Ingrid bends and scoops her up, setting her down away from the stables. Mildred's ears droop in consternation. They're leaving? She notices how Sylvain carries weapons over to Felix, who takes them without a word and marches off into the marketplace, sees Annette and Mercedes speaking about food provisions, and how Sylvain and Ingrid are wearing plated armor in place of their usual ensemble.

They're most likely heading out to participate in the war she's heard about, and Mildred feels something in her break. What if they don't come back? What if something happens and she isn't there to help? Ultimately, she knows that she just doesn't want to be left alone. She tries following again, and this time Ashe has to tell her to stay, saying, "We'll be back before you know it."

If they won't let her follow, then she will have to sneak among them. Mildred knows this is getting out of hand, but the thought of being left alone in this mountainous structure makes her feel sick to the stomach.

She rounds the entrance hall into the dining hall, past the marketplace and out the gates. Felix is organizing the weapons in the convoy, tossing broken weapons into what is presumably a repair pile, muttering something about his old man. Mildred keeps her tail low, not wanting the traitorous appendage to give her presence away like last time. The sun has risen from the horizon, casting warm hues across the brightening sky.

Her amulet glows slightly inside the convoy as she kneels cautiously behind an iron shield. She squeezes between the heavy slabs of metal into a space big enough for Mildred to fit. As long as no one looks past the repair pile, and she thinks that no one would even look at a broken pile of useless weapons in the first place, she shouldn't be discovered, in either form. Felix grumbles again and throws a canvas cover over the convoy to protect the products from rain and sun, shadowing her hiding place.