2. Where All Great Journeys Begin #2
It looks as though it simply fell into place that way, without a thought. Here I am, battling the elements so my hair doesn’t resemble a bramble bush after a stiff breeze. I have to bite back a sigh of irritation. How is it fair for him to look like that?
Casey steps aside, giving Callan a clear view of me. “What’s all this banter about? We’re leavin’ in the next—” Callan stops mid-sentence, his expression freezing as he curses under his breath and turns abruptly toward the wall.
From my vantage point, I see Casey’s brows knit in confusion as he glances between Callan and me. A strange stillness settles over Casey’s face, his eyes widening before he groans and shields his own vision.
“Gods, Triona!” he bellows, voice half-laugh, half-horror. “You might as well be in the scud, like the day ye were born!”
A sickening chill slithers down my spine as realisation strikes. In my rush to escape Deidre, I completely forgot about my attire—or the lack thereof.
I’m not just in a shift. I’m in a sheer shift. Practically an invitation for the entire household to critique my sins.
My arms snap over my chest as heat rushes to my face in a near-searing manner. All I can think about is never facing either of my brothers again. I’d rather live as a wandering gypsy, selling trinkets on the road.
My movements are frantic as I dash from the hallway. I swear I catch Deidre laughing as I pass. I’ll certainly be repaying her for this.
The last thing I hear before slamming my door is Callan’s familiar, condemnatory tone. “Ye’d reckon a clan of cursed wolves raised her, the way she carries on some days.”
Goodbyes have always been hard for me. I’d rather slip away unnoticed than confront the festering ache of leaving. It’s easier to avoid the pang of loss entirely, to push it aside until time blurs the edges. That’s what works for me. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
I linger, taking a few more minutes to walk through the house, my steps slow and deliberate.
The weight of the moment presses down on me, heavier with each passing second.
I draw in a deep breath, trying to etch every detail into my memory: the way sunlight filters through the curtains, casting soft patterns onto the wooden floor.
The lingering scent of my mother’s favourite flowers, the ones Deidre insisted must come with us to Edinburgh.
Beyond the window, the town murmurs its usual tune—wagon wheels crunching over loose gravel, the distant call of children at play, the fluttering of birdsong drifting from the rooftops and trees.
I close my eyes, committing the melody to memory.
After today, it will play only in the quiet chambers of my mind.
It’s surreal, knowing this is the last time I’ll see these sights, hear these sounds. A heaviness settles in my chest at the thought of leaving Deidre behind—of having this chapter of my life close for good .
My thoughts spiral, consumed by the reality waiting for me. The seconds ticking away feel like the last moments of peace before plunging into a world of womanly expectations and responsibilities—a world I’m not sure I’m ready for.
Soft footsteps behind me break the quiet. I turn to see Deidre approaching, her slight smile a balm to my fraying nerves. She takes my hands; her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the backs of them. It’s not her usual way—comfort isn’t her strongest suit—but when it matters, she bends.
“Give me one memory.” She murmurs.
I chuckle despite myself, and she squeezes my hands in response. “I jest not. Your final lesson with me will be practising gratitude .”
There’s no use fighting her, so I nod. She once told me her father used to do the same for her, and it always worked to distract her from her worries. Gods know, I could use a distraction now.
I close my eyes, searching for a memory worth sharing. A smile tugs at my lips as one comes to mind. “Do you remember when Casey left the window open in the sitting room, and that bird flew in?”
Deidre’s face lights up with laughter, the sound ringing through the room like a song I’ll miss.
“I can still see your face as you came rushing in after hearing all the commotion from the kitchen. Casey and I must have looked like a pair of bampots trying to explain what had happened. Just when we thought the bird had flown the coop, it came rushing back in again! It took us nearly two hours to persuade it to leave!”
“That blasted bird caused such destruction for being no bigger than a paperweight!” She wipes at her eyes, still chuckling. “Irksome, yes, but a fine memory it makes.”
As the laughter fades, she releases my hands and steps to a small wooden box on the mantle. Carefully, she opens it and retrieves a bundle wrapped in soft cloth. Turning back to me, her expression is serious yet tender as she holds it out.
“I have a gift for you, my dear. I might not see you for some time now that you have no real need for me, and I wanted to leave this.”
The finality of her words hits me like a wave, bringing with it the goodbye I’ve dreaded all morning. The beginning of expectancy. The end of youth.
“I believe it has always been meant for you.” Conflicting emotions of sadness and gratitude are washing over me. Too much, and not enough, all at once.
“I will always need you,” I manage, hoping she knows just how true those words are .
Deidre’s eyes soften as she places the bundle in my hands.
My fingers tremble as I take the bundle from her.
I drag back the fabric to reveal a bracelet unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
The band is crafted from dark leather, soft and worn with age, but what draws my attention is the intricate design woven into it.
Delicate raven feathers are pressed flat and encased seamlessly in a translucent hardened substance, their iridescent sheen catching the light.
Intricate patterns are etched into the leather edges, giving it an otherworldly beauty.
“This belonged to someone of great importance to me,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. “It was entrusted to me long ago, and now it’s time it found its rightful place—with you.”
The weight of it feels heavier than its size suggests, its significance sinking in as I cradle it in my hands. My breath catches, the room tilting slightly as emotions crash over me.
“How can I…?” I whisper, unable to finish the thought.
“You’ll wear it with ease.” Her hands close over mine, grounding me. “This is a gift worthy of its new bearer.”
A storm brews in my chest—gratitude, grief, love, fear. It all crashes at once, stealing my breath. I clutch the bracelet, its cool surface grounding me as the walls of my world shift.
“Triona,” Deidre says, her voice firm. “I want you to listen carefully.”
I meet her gaze, and in it, I see everything—hope, sorrow, an unspoken promise that lingers between us.
“You are going to do wonders. I need you to remember that when you get home, and I need you to remember it five years from now. More importantly, I need you to hold on to it when life feels unbearable. When everything is so hard, you’ll want to give up, when it feels as if you’ve got nothing left to give. ”
Her grip tightens, willing the truth of her words into me. “Promise me, Triona, that you’ll hold on to what I’m saying. That you’ll remember, even in those moments.”
A lump swells in my throat. I nod, pressing the bracelet to my chest, as though it might tether me to her faith in me. Tears sting my eyes, my voice trembling as I go to speak. “I promise to lock this away when I need to give away one memory.”
I lean in, letting myself rest in her presence one last time. “I promise to take care of this much in the same way you’ve always taken care of me. ”
I pull back, and the smile across her face doesn’t quite touch her eyes. She raises a hand to my cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.
She nods, voice a breath on the wind. “Until I see you again.”