The Circle

Mansion Miscommunication

It was a long journey.

First by a train at Euston Station.
Then by another, significantly smaller train. The type with steam and coal and those dainty little doilies from the Victorian-era-style of internal furnishings.
Then by a taxi driven by a Indian gentleman whom would seemingly never stop shouting down his Bluetooth earpiece in a strain of language that not even the language-clued-up Circle operatives could identify.

Now they were driving a small cart through the thick forests surrounding the family home of The Circle's resident 'living weapon'.

Chris was holding the steers with Bryonie at his side. Nat was in the back, rolling around in the hay, with Rob watching her carefully from a bench to make sure she didn't fall out.

Together, traversing the narrow path, dividing the trees to their left and right. The green leaves rattling in the wind was the only thing that broke the silence. It was a beautiful day, in a place undisturbed by any of the noisy scourges that plagued the cities. They had traveled since early morning, and now the sun stood high above them, soaking them in hot midday rays.

After having traveled many hours in silence, Nat tried to lighten the solemn mood. It was not because something had happened. Everything around them just seemed so perfect that words would only spoil it.

"It was nice of your parents to invite us to celebrate this... holiday with you"

"It's not a real holiday", Chris replied. "It's just this made up thing we have. It's the day the my family line transcended into a line of heroes. You know, soldiers and nurses and legends"

He spoke the last line with a scent of irony, which made Rob chuckle.

"Apparently one of my ancestors fought so well in the Hundred Years War, that, henceforward, all Daniel-Frosts were to be born with 'courage in their hearts', and on the day of his greatest victory all of his descendants  are to gather in one place and commemorate this. So not a real thing, but since it is the weekend, and my parents wanted to meet some of you guys, I thought that... you might want you might want to come visit them with me!"

The forest disappeared as they rode through, transforming into a green valley of fields and plains. Far out in the scenery the vibrant blue color of a lake could be seen, undisturbed and tranquil. It was the landscape the romantic poet had sought for since the dawn of time. In the middle of the scenery a grey colossus slept; a Victorian manor older than anything most of them had ever seen before. Arches, stained-glass windows, towers and gardens. An open gate welcomed them in all its ancient, cast-iron splendour.

It was such a timeless scenery it felt as though the first Daniel-Frost would be there to greet them, double-barrelled name and all.

But as they came closer, the signs of decay started to show.

Plants growing all along the old walls, digging into the cracks on the rotten walls and through the torned bricks, as if nature itself wanted to pull it down, swallowing the ugly stones back into the ground. Relieving itself from the glory that endured. Though the castle was old, the fields were even older, and the plains might stay forever.

"Sorry my dad isn't here right now to welcome us, but I can do a damn good impression of him"

Chris coughed into his hands for the dramatic effect, and suddenly his voice turned into a deep, Yorkshire growl, which quickly deteriorated into something similar to Sean Connery's Scottish drawl.

"It is charming old ruin after all"

None of them responded, still trapped in the overwhelming feeling of awe for something so grand