Aylia Holmes

1. The Station

The jittering rumble of the train compartments shook everything from the luggage in the racks to the heads and bodies of the people within. The buzz of conversation filled the air with an electrifying tingle that seemed to reach everything and everyone around. But through the haze of excitement, one compartment alone remained isolated from the rest. Inside sat a fair woman with high, defined cheekbones, soft, pink lips, and light eyes haloed with long, dark lashes. Her long hair was fixed in a complex bun at the back of her head and her eyes were trained, unseeing, on the scenery out the window. Against the royal blue of her dress lay a brownish paper which was slowly being crushed by her gloved hand. Her chin was slightly raised, setting her defined and yet soft features into relief in the warm light of the bright summer day streaming through the window at her side.

She was not, however, alone in the compartment. Across from her window seat and down as far from her as possible was a young man with dark, curly hair and bright green eyes. His thick brows were furrowed as he read through several papers and glanced every few moments at his watch.

After a few moments, the woman had moved, unfolding the paper in her hand and reading it over. The man glanced up at the sign of movement but said nothing. Her soft features scrunched in a frown as she read it over again and finally refolded it with something of a jolt as she forced her eyes out the window again and pressed her gloved hand against her mouth and blinked quickly. There was a slight quiver in her hand.

Finally setting aside his papers, the man leaned forward slightly and asked, "Pardon me, Miss, but are you well?" She jumped, fixing her eyes on him with such surprise one might have thought she had been completely unaware of his presence in the compartment with her.

Clearing her throat, she brushed perfectly imaginary dirt off her perfectly clean skirt and finally said in a soft, breathy voice, "I'm very well, thank you." He nodded slightly, although his slightly narrowed eyes did not leave her. Noting this, she drew in a deep breath and said, "Forgive me. I have received distressing news from my brothers."

"My condolences," he replied with a courteous bow of the head.

"Oh, nothing of that sort," she said with a gracious smile, although as she brushed a stray hair from her face, he could hear her sniffle. "My mother's health, that is all."

"My condolences all the same," the man said with a small smile.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"May I ask your name, Miss?" he asked, giving a grin the woman knew full well might have ensnared many a young lady.

Restraining an amused smile at this, she said, "Miss Aylia Holmes."

"Holmes?" he repeated in surprise, his eyes slightly wide. "I don't suppose-"

"Yes," Aylia interrupted with a proud smile. "None other than the little sister of Sherlock Holmes."

"It is a pleasure, Miss Holmes," the man said with a slight bow of the head.

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you," she said graciously. "Mr?"

"Tewksbury," he explained. "Elwin Tewksbury."

"Might I inquire as to where your journey ends?" Aylia asked cautiously.

"Basilwether Hall," he explained. "I'm to visit my family. I've been overseas, you see."

"Where?" she inquired with interest.

"All over, really," he admitted with a small shrug. "My father served and he wished me to do the same. I hear he's been trying to convince my cousin to join as well."

"I see," Aylia said with a small laugh.

"And where might your destination lie?" Elwin asked.

"Ferndell Hall," Aylia replied. "Sherlock and Mycroft are to join me at the next stop and we are to arrive together."

Even as she spoke, the rumbling train began to slow to a stop as the doors opened and the sounds of shuffling feet, muffled voices, and banging luggage reached them. They had only been waiting a few minutes before the compartment door opened and the tall forms of both Sherlock and Mycroft appeared.

A wide smile crossing his features, Mycroft stepped forward and said, "Aylia, my dear sister, how long it has been."

"Indeed," she replied, rising to her feet and accepting the affectionate squeeze of her hand with so gracious a smile Elwin couldn't help but wish he was on the other side of it.

Sherlock smiled knowingly behind their elder brother and quietly said, "It's good to see you, Aylie."

"You too, I suppose, Sherlock," she said. Her smile was visceral as she greeted her brother with teasing affection characteristic of a sister with which one has spent much time. Elwin averted his gaze, fearful lest he find himself engrossed in her kindly face forever.

"Mycroft, Sherlock, this is Mr Elwin Tewksbury. I have just recently made his acquaintance." Elwin looked up again and rose to shake hands with the other two men, stealing barely a glance towards her. "Mr Tewksbury, these are my brothers Mr Mycroft Holmes and Mr Sherlock Holmes."

"A pleasure, sirs," Elwin said, turning from Mycroft to shake Sherlock's hand.

Once their luggage had been put up out of the way, Sherlock sat by Aylia's side and Mycroft sat beside her. They kept up polite conversation until the next stop, whereupon Mr Tewksbury left them with fervent wishes of further acquaintance and Aylia was left to wonder how long it would be until she should see him again.

But for now at least, she had far more important matters on her mind, namely the disappearance of her mother, Eudora Holmes.