Waiting for Spring - Part I

Without a Fight

The mansion doors on the west wing were seldom used. Sometimes when large deliveries arrived at the house they used the large hall behind the big gate for storage. That did not mean that the nobles did not care for it however, no, rather the opposite. This large entry in particular carried large scarlet banners that covered the stone walls with fine curved metal lanterns hung in between. A large mezzanine about a dozen feet up ran along the wall opposite to the large set of double doors. The only way to get up there behind the decorated balusters was via the large meeting room on the other side, which was a famous piece of architecture. Some believed that it was built back in the time when all buildings were built using magic. No one knew for sure though.

Mira pushed the heavy doors open and the last flickering daylight hit the large lobby. No dust settled in the shining light. Mayhap it should have, mayhap not. She knew the place but had no memories of it. It was lost to her, though it was not as if she would ever care. Perhaps she had simply been here when she was young.

The tapestries fluttered as chilly breeze followed the sorceress' echoing footsteps. With a focused gaze she took stock of the great hall. Some of the lanterns on the walls in between the long tapestries were lit. Something was wrong unless someone had decided that today was a perfect day to light up an entrance that no one any longer used. There were no guards around either, a fact that only awoke more suspicion.

Upon the mezzanine, somewhere in the darkness behind the thick balustrade, a shadowy figure hinted its presence. Mira picked up on the movement and halted. She found herself standing in the middle of the large hall, inside a decorating circle painted on the marble. It was silent for some time before an old man showed up behind the railing in front of her. The man clapped his hand and revealed himself in the light. It was Jerrod and Mira had expected no one else. She stared at the mage and rested her arm against her spear.

"Miranda, I actually did not believe that you would make it back. I'm impressed, to say the least," Jerrod grinned even though his overall expression was hard to make out in the dim light. Mira continued to observe the old man and said nothing at first. "So, would you be so kind as to tell me your story, Miranda. Tell me why you have come." Once again Mira remained silent.

"No?" Jerrod inquired and laughed nervously.

"You sold us out, Jerrod. You of all people." Mira tried to remain calm. It was harder than she imagined.

"Sell out is such a hard term Miranda. You of all people should know that. I have not..."

"You sold us to a madman. Do you have any idea what you have done?" Some of her rage rippled through. Jerrod took a step forward and leaned against the balustrade before responding.

"He may be ambitious, young Archibald, but at least he has ideology."

"He has gone lengths to prove a mere legend. I think that says more than enough."

"Oh, but don't you see Miranda. If you just met him I'm sure..."

"Oh I have met him already," Mira interrupted and stood up straight. "And I made up my mind about him too."

Jerrod looked genuinely confused for a moment.

"And he did not offer you his hand? Don't you see Miranda? You of all people should see! A new world awaits somewhere. We can restore glory and all these meaningless lives that the people of the north endure can finally come to an end. We can achieve something that really matters Miranda. Something we both dreamt of." Jerrod had a grave tone about him and Mira found it odd.

"You Jerrod, you of all people would be the last man that would share your gift. Look at what happened the last time everyone waltzed about, waving their hands around, that's right, everyone died. Just because we have the tools to create does not actively imply that we will not use the blunt end of it instead."