Otherworldly - A Shadowed Awakening

The Dawn Arrives

Fall of Autumn, Week 4, Day 2

The manor was alive with the sounds of maids sweeping, of butlers organizing, of knights practicing. It was alive not because it was always alive but because it was being prepared. A Child of the Dawn would be occupying the manor. The populace that inhabited the manor were ecstatic.

From the maids to the butlers, from the guards to the stablehands, it had been ages since one of the main family had come to stay. And, sure, the rooms were maintained in case a high noble made a pit stop in Fellan on their way out of Maeve, but none had come by for months. On occasion, one of the branch family members would be authorized to stay, but that was nothing compared to a member of the Duchess’ family.

Word had been received that it was the day. Lady Eunora Dawn would be arriving sometime past noon. So final spot checks were performed, and etiquette was refreshed.

The day she arrived was special. It was the first snow before Winter came.

It wasn’t enough to line the roads or decorate the estate, but it was beautiful. The maids who were tidying the Lady’s room kept stealing glances out the third-floor window to watch the snowflakes drift downward. They clung briefly to the barren trees before disappearing. One of the girls let out a sigh, puffing a loose strand of hair out of her face.

“Do you think she’ll like us?” She asked wistfully, running a rag over the polished wood of the dresser.

The other girl, with long silver hair pulled back into a ponytail and soft pink eyes, shook her head. “I wouldn’t bet on it. You remember the Marquis’ daughter? She pulled out Helena’s hair for spilling her tea.”

“But surely Lady Eunora is more dignified than that, yeah?” The first girl said, “I mean, she’s a Dawn.”

“Erie, be careful. The Dawns are just people. People of high status, true, but they’re just as broken as the rest of us.”

“Sylvie!” Erie gasped, leaning toward the other girl. “You can’t say that! What if someone hears you?”

Sylvie’s eye landed on the window, watching a flurry of snow pass by. “Then they’ll know what I think.”

In the kitchen, a pair was fighting.

“How can you be sure?” A middle-aged woman said, her arms crossed as she stared up at a taller man.

“Because I contacted the chef at the main estate. He says she loves sweets. No bitter foods.” He harrumphed, “Now! Begone, Melinda, I have things to do! Our Lady arrives today, and I’ve yet to check how the pudding has set.”

In the basement, a butler was grabbing a golden key and polishing it gently. He was sitting next to an ornate gilded door with purple crystals lining the edges and two massive runes in the middle. As he finished, he placed the key inside a velvet-lined box and tucked it into his breast pocket.

“Finally, you’ll see some use,” he said to himself, a satisfied smile on his face.

That was the moment a gong resounded through the manor, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and hustle to the main entry.

“All right, all right! Everyone! Positions!” Melinda clapped her hands and shouted, directing the staff out the front door.

They began lining the stairs leading up to the main door, trying to ignore the chill that had set into the air.

It was time.

Lady Eunora was arriving.

The sound of horse hooves pounding on gravel could be heard from a distance. It was a long minute before the carriage came out of the woods and through the gate. They had made it.

Melinda was straightening her apron for the final time at the base of the steps, watching the approaching knights and carriage. A smile was forming on her face for the first time all day. She turned and shot a look at the staff behind her, and everyone fell in line. Hands were behind backs for the butlers, in front of them for the maids, and to the sides for the four knights who were in charge of the main entryway. No one wanted to get this wrong. It was their first introduction to Lady Eunora.

The nondescript carriage felt like it was moving at a crawl as the staff held their positions, but soon enough, it was upon them. The knights surrounding the carriage wore a predatory caution, and they all had hard looks on their faces and bags under their eyes as they dismounted their horses. None spoke beside the one the staff assumed to be the captain. Only the knights of the manor had crumpled looks on their faces as they thought back to the loss of their original captain. The general staff, aside from Melinda, the head maid, and Gristle, the head butler, had not been told of the events of the journey.

The Knights of the Dusk created two lines outside the carriage door, and the man who must have been the captain knocked on the window.

“My Lady, we have arrived.”

His voice was hoarse but soft. He pulled on the handle without waiting for a response and held out his hand to the dark interior of the carriage.

Slowly, as if measuring the weight of the world, a hand appeared. As it came out into the light, black nails could be seen, and several black bangles decorated the girl’s wrist. The hand gripped the captain’s own, and he gingerly led her down the carriage. In the light of day, Lady Eunora was otherworldly. Her hair had been weaved to one side in an intricate pattern that held rose-like braids embedded in the base plait giving it the look of a vine, with flowers blooming in and out of her hair. A single curl was free on each side of her face and framed the soft cheeks of a child. Her deep blue eyes roamed the knights and the staff.

The next thing the staff of the Dawn estate noticed was what Lady Eunora was wearing. Shorts such a deep purple they looked like the midnight sky, a shirt that shined in the sunlight, and purple suspenders to match the shorts. She had pale purple leather boots, and stockings the same hue. Around her shoulders was a black cardigan with iridescent stars decorating it. In her free hand was a black-knit bunny.

She didn’t look like a Dawn. No. She looked dark. The staff of the manor felt it then—a wave of power settled over them. The air sharpened, and suddenly the chill became straight-up icy.

That was the moment Lady Eunora removed her hand from the captain of the knights and stood by Melinda at the base of the stairs. Behind her, the knights of the Dusk aligned themselves in two tight rows.

“I am Eunora Dawn,” she said, her voice steady and clear. “But I go by Nora.”

Silence met her, and so she continued,

“Nora, Lady Nora, it makes no difference.” She waved her hand. “So long as it’s Nora.”

Then she was fixing her gaze on Melinda, who was still recovering from the shock of being introduced to a member of the Dawn being so nonchalant with their title.

“Yes—yes, my Lady,” Melinda started. “Lady Nora, can I show you to your room?”

Lady Nora peered up at the older woman before she nodded, and suddenly the pressure that had descended upon the staff lifted. “Sounds like a plan. Prepare a meal for twelve tonight—wait. What’s your name?”

Melinda stopped walking and blinked down at Lady Nora. “Melinda, my Lady.”

“Melinda, where are my manners?” Lady Nora huffed to herself. “It’s nice to meet you, but it’s been a very long journey.”

“Of course, there’s no need to explain,” Melinda smiled down at the girl, but Lady Nora still looked displeased when Melinda started ushering her through the main door.

“All right.” The girl gave in. “Please have the chef prepare a meal for twelve tonight.”

“Twelve, my Lady?” Melinda asked curiously, leading Lady Nora up a grand staircase to the second floor.

“Yes, it’s a ‘welcome home’ meal,” Lady Nora said, then looked at the blank expression on Melinda’s face. “For the Knights of the Dusk. It’s been a season since they’ve been home.”

“That sounds lovely,” Melinda said after a moment.

Silence only had a moment before the captain of the knights stopped. “Lady Nora, I must leave you here and make my report to the garrison commander in town.”

Lady Nora didn’t even look back. “Of course, Sir Limrick. Just be back for dinner.”

A small smile broke through Sir Limrick’s face. “Your will be done, my Lady.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said wryly.“Just go.”

As Sir Limrick descended the stairs, Lady Nora continued ascending unfazed. Or, rather, she appeared unfazed. Melinda could spot the whites of her knuckles as the girl’s hand gripped. Leading Lady Nora down the hall, Melinda spoke softly.

“We’ve prepped the Love of Zorya for you. It’s the nicest room after the Count and Countess’ quarters,” Melinda said it with pride, and Lady Nora glanced over at her.

“The Red Maiden?” Lady Nora asked conversationally.

“The very one,” Melinda replied. “Have you heard the story of Zorya before, my Lady?”

“I read about her –in one of the genealogy books.”

“Ah, then you haven’t heard her true story,” Melinda sighed in satisfaction. “That means I get to tell you about her, then.”

“If you please.”

“Zorya, the keeper of the Palace of the Sun, spent her life guarding the outer palace of the Queen. She spent one hundred and thirty years protecting the heirs of the royal family. She would guard the newborns until the time that they could walk. There were always more children of Maeve to watch over. Only once did the Palace of the Sun sit empty.”

“Oh?” Lady Nora asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Melinda and the portraits on the wall.

“Yes. It was the day after the Siege. When the Red Maiden Zorya died protecting the children of the then-queen Lorelei.”

“Siege? Who was sieging?” Lady Nora asked, truly interested now. Melinda smiled in response.

“Oh, you know, some revolt or another. Didn’t work that time, though,” Melinda laughed, then stopped by a golden archway.

“Ah, we’ve reached the welcoming chamber for the Love of Zorya,” she said.

Lady Nora turned on her heel to look into the chamber. “You mean this is just the entry to my room?”

Melinda laughed behind her hand, discreetly tapping the golden emblem on her purple uniform.

Dinner for twelve. Celebration. Knights other eleven.

Meanwhile, down below, the manor was alive. Alive in the way it was meant to be.

“Lady Nora,” Erie squealed in Sylvie’s ear. “She wants us to use her nickname!”

“Erie, if you don’t leave me be, we’re going to have words,” was Sylvie’s response. She looked particularly unenthused as they walked through the servants’ corridor.

“But Sylvie–!” Erie said as the other girl pulled away and disappeared around a corner.

“If you need me, I’ll be prepping the dining room.” That was all Sylvie said without even looking back.

In the kitchen, a man was shouting in frustration, “Damn it! The pudding was only made in a serving size of four. Quick let’s make a lemon custard. Everyone likes a lemon custard, right?”

“Right, chef!” The other kitchen workers shouted back, equally as rushed in their movements. Rushed but controlled. Not one nicked themselves that day.

In the main hall, the knights were handing Gristle a list of everything they brought from the main estate.

“Ah, not a single maid?” Gristle asked, looking skeptically around the knight contingents, clocking about half as female but none in the purple uniform of a Lady’s Maid.

An awkward silence descended before a blonde woman spoke up. “Well, no. The maids of the main estate did not volunteer.”

Gristle grit his teeth and choked out, “So, of course, they sent a child across the Duchy. Perfect.”

Gristle sighed as he realized the work cut out for him with this child of the Dawn. The knights looked at each other, and some of the tense atmosphere abated.