From Iron and Ruin

New Beginnings

Chapter Two - New Beginnings

I spent the first night in Adotlan wandering the old streets and halls, sidestepping into small and narrow alleyways when I heard the murmur of voices. The air in Adotlan was jubilant. Finally, they were safely behind walls again.

Much to Gwen's disappointment, there wasn't a raging party into the small hours of the morning. We hadn't much ale brought with us and what we did have, wouldn't be enough to satisfy Gwen's thirst. Still, the people were content to sit in the doorways of the houses they claimed as their own and listen to the strains of music echoing down the streets.

Every street seemed to have some sort of noise coming from it. Singing. Dancing. A bard playing an instrument. We would let them enjoy it for the night. Too soon, they would face danger again. We would have to ask things of them that I would have hesitated to ask the Elves in Dratlan, never mind a boy who was once a farm-hand turned soldier. The young, determined faces. The souls seeking revenge.

The Nirani and the Insurgent hadn't only taken my family. They had taken countless others. When the night grew bitter and cold, I began to explore the castle that loomed like a giant from the lake. It's beauty was in that grey, imposing stone and stern, strong towers. The hallways seemed endless and confusing, looping and turning back on each other endlessly.

A castle built to keep out strangers, but I loved the challenge.

It reminded me of days in Dratlan, racing along the walls, a slip away from a broken leg or neck. Trying to search out every nook and cranny of the Keep.

Here in Adotlan, there were numerous balconies where I could gaze out at the stillness of the lake. Though my happiness here wasn't what matter, I knew that tucked away in the perches that hugged the most remote towers of the castle, I could be content.

A great hall, with a tall, arched ceiling and fires pitted in the walls that had already been lit, greeted me as I descended from another tower. The wind howled in through a series of broken, glass stained windows that depicted a broken, nearly illegible story. Heavy hanging tapestries near the doors were torn by what looked like blade.

At the top of the hall was a heavy oak table with high backed chairs pushed tight against them. I drifted a hand over the dusty table-top. No leaders, but a council?

"They call this place Eywn Hall," Fyr's voice was a whisper.

"Why?" I asked.

"I read it in a book about Adotlan. One written before the ...massacres." She pulled absently on her braid. "She was a leader. A warrior and they named this Hall after her. I think this glass may have told her story, but it's all broken now."

Eywn's Hall.

"I like the sound of it. It gives this place feeling."

Fyr stood beside me, gazing out at the echoing room. "I can't believe that we're finally here. I am so relieved and yet, I feel no different. I am happy that I have a warm bed and a roof over my head."

"Even I had gotten sick of the road," I told her. "But have no doubt that we'll be up early tomorrow because Captain Bryant has a sudden an intense desire to have a meeting."

"Then we should go to bed." She instructed me. "He'll have our heads if we're yawning."

"He's already tried to take my head," I led the way, already sure that I nearly knew the way to the bed chambers tucked in a remote wing of the castle where the rooms were separate from each other and the rest of the castle. Fyr's room was nowhere near mine though and she left me to slip into an airy room that neighboured a large, cobweb filled work-room.