𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐌'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘 | ❝ Great works are performed not by strength but by perseverance. ❞
A quest to complete a bestiary leads Ruselm to force the infamous witcher Geralt, of Rivia, to accompany him during his travels after many ins...
RUSELM'S BESTIARY CHAPTER SIX ─ THE BEAR WHO GROWLS
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THE COUNTRY VILLAGE that was deemed Thetdow was homely and small, comprised of a tangle of bleakly thatched houses built too close together. A curious neighbor who had to inquire about something needed only to open their window and ask across to the next house over. The closeness inherently insured that all villagers knew each other and kept a close eye on the happenings around their home.
The manor where Ruselm was born and raised in Nazair had been somewhat secluded. The Jurren family manor was extravagant and built to a much larger scale than necessary, dwarfing any who stood next to it as Florys had intended when he designed the home. Its main building housed six separate bedchambers, only two of which were actually used by Ruselm and his father, Thaddäus, after the death of his mother. A big home for proud people; people that bore their name with honor and labored endlessly for their multifarious plethora of hopes and dreams, all within the comforts of their own homestead tucked away from the rest of Assengard and the people that lingered near it.
There were two outbuildings on the lands Ruselm's father owned which served as houses for Maurits and Sibren, his dear friend's father. These 'houses' were little more than glorified huts but no matter how much Ruselm insisted on Maurits staying in the manor, Maurits had always rejected the idea and spouted a reason like, "It's about respect." Or, "Family honor."
Ruselm hadn't cared about Jurren family honor, he'd only wanted Maurits to live in relative comfort, with a real bed and not the straw mat he constricted himself to every evening.
After all, both Maurits and Sibren worked for Thaddäus as loyal servants. They managed the grounds and gardens, cleaned and repaired the manor, cooked, washed the clothes, polished the armor, fed the animals—they did every task in need of doing to spare the Jurrens from any 'unnecessary' labor, as Thaddäus had always put it. In return for their faithful service, they were allowed to live on the land and cultivate their own crop and livestock for extra money. To Ruselm, the deal seemed more one-sided but Sibren never complained.
Growing up, he could never tell if it was because Sibren felt indebted to his father or because he truly had nowhere else to go.
The companionship of Sibren's only son was invaluable, though, after he'd lost his mother and Ruselm never found himself ungrateful or unhappy that Sibren stayed with Maurits. Ruselm and his playmate had been born just a week apart (with Maurits being the older) and they'd been attached at the hip for as long as the young author could remember.
He could remember asking Maurits, at the age of six, what he wanted to do with his life.
"My only goal is to serve you," had been the short answer. It had made Ruselm sad at the time, for reasons he couldn't quite comprehend. Fourteen years later and he still felt a pang in his chest at the thought of it. He couldn't understand what it was like to live with only the simplest thing such as loyalty to one family.
