Waiting for Spring - Part I

Chapter Eighteen

A good night's sleep or a dance all night

Nevertheless a worthy feast in never without wine

- Idwallian saying.

April woke up at noon, still in the same chambers as last night. Mira had left though and there was no trace of her except a fragrance of roses on the bed sheets. For a few moments April took pleasure in it, wishing she could stay forever.

The comb was still lying at the mirror and April didn't hesitate to get herself up and over to it. Her hair was a mess as it always was in the mornings. The tangles unfolded as the comb gently caressed her snow-coloured hair

She remembered that her dad used to laugh when she came down the stairs those early summer mornings when all April wanted was to run away from the heat and leap into the cold lake. Dylan used to ask where the birds where and nod at her tousled hair. It felt distant, yet the memories were glad ones and despite the fact that she would never relive those moments again, the mere thought of them gave her a small joyful feeling. I wonder where you are now, father. I hope the afterlife is a good one.

The following hours April found herself walking around the large manor. The otherwise eerie hallways were bright and well lit. The sun sparkled in through the windows and the pretty pictures that decorated the walls seemed more at ease.

Several times April passed well-dressed men and women who seemed to be on swift errands. The central courtyard gave the young woman the most comfort however. It was tranquil there and few people were outside in the chill.

For almost an hour during the forenoon April sat there and watched the flowers that hid under thin layer of snow. She wondered where everyone was. Theron had just disappeared without a trace, though it was not strange, as she had figured out that he was far from welcomed here. Darnell had vanished too, but he was most likely spending time with his fellow soldiers. April wished to talk to him. They probably didn't have much to say each other, but somehow the thought of his company was solacing. Mira remained the last pretty mystery. She never said anything about having to be somewhere, but yet again, it was Mira. She would never tell her.

~Mira

The path down to the dungeon was located beneath a tower on the north-western side of the large mansion. The stairs that corkscrewed downwards were full of lichen and gave away a strange stench. It was hard to see anything since the torches had been sparsely placed on the walls and the light they emitted was all but bright. Mira didn't recognise the place, yet she had a sensation of having been there before. She followed Jerrod and a guard named Eemon who was armoured with a full sapphire cuirass. The torches they had brought on their own didn't seem to help at all and the stroll downwards progressed slowly. Mira was taciturn, but followed the two men in front of her with her guard raised.

The further down the three people went the darker it got. A horrid reek started to find its way to their nostrils and Mira felt uneasy. Murmuring water could be heard in the distance. Suddenly something whispered in her ear. She looked behind her back, but it was nothing there except a murky wall. While looking around she took a step to the left and grabbed the rail on the wall. The two men continued marching downwards in the meantime, unaware of the woman's sudden halt.

Suddenly it came at her again, the sound, but it was more of a scream this time, a distant cry. It echoed throughout the surrounding stone. Then it was quiet once again. Mira hurried down the rest of the stairs and kept looking backwards. When she reached the others she asked them about it.

"Did you not hear that?"

"Hear what, Miranda?" Jerrod inquired with an impatient tone. "It's nothing here, just us, for now." Mira shook her head, but refrained from answering. He needs to stop calling me that.