Chapter 45 Uneasy Re
Uneasy Reunion
She moved from the grand entryway into the foyer, she waited as Myrna disappeared into the library, where her mother most likely was. She swore she heard something drop and the shuffle of hurried feet before Riona laid eyes on her mother.
Celeste, her mother, was a woman with a small but athletic frame.
Although she seemed to have put on some muscle since the last time Riona had seen her.
Her long blonde hair, the color of blue steel, was braided and adorned with a black ribbon at the bottom.
She was wearing deep violet riding pants and a white top, as though she might have just come from the stables.
Their eyes locked, and her mother’s gaze swelled with tears before they fell freely down her face, her trembling hands covering her lips. Riona’s heart softened, and for a moment, she forgot the fears that had followed her here.
Celeste ran to Riona, flinging her arms around her in a tight embrace. The feelings that swirled in Riona’s heart threatened to crumble her under the weight of it all. She pulled away before the tears could fall. “Hi, Mom.”
Her mother’s expression was soft, and Riona braced herself for anger, for being away for so long, for never replying to her letters. But nothing had prepared her for this.
“Hello, Riona,” her mother said, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m so happy you’re here. I was starting to think I would never see you again.” Tears spilled over as her mother cried softly, trying to push them away.
Riona could see how much she’d broken her mother’s heart, and the weight of it was almost too much to bear.
She held her mother’s hands. “I’m so sorry I left you in the dark.
I wanted to start my life over…” Her voice caught, the words stumbling out unevenly.
“I made the decision to move back to the region. I don’t know if I’ll stay in Frostfire, but I’ve enlisted with the Circle. ”
Her mother’s eyes searched hers as if she already knew why Riona was there. Without speaking it aloud, her mother simply nodded. “Riona, I’m just happy you’re here. I don’t need an explanation. Let’s have some food, you look famished.”
Her mother’s soft smile told her it was okay, at least for now.
Taking her hand, Celeste led Riona into the kitchen.
It was both familiar and different, filled with memories but altered by time.
A beautiful stone island had been added, where wooden stools sat.
The turf stove still stood, fueled by wood fire.
Above it hung pots and pans, dried herbs, and edible flowers.
A small basket held apples picked from the apple trees outside.
Beside it was another basket filled with rolls, glazed with butter and honey.
The scents filled Riona’s nostrils, and memories of making those honey rolls flooded her mind.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her mother until this moment.
All the anger, resentment, and sadness she had held onto for so long faded away.
In its place, she saw a woman who had been trapped.
And instead of hate, she felt pity. Riona picked up a roll and took a bite.
The roll was still warm, and the salty sweet glaze melted in her mouth.
“Mmm, they’re just as good as I remember them being.
” She looked over at her mother, whose eyes lit up as she let a soft chuckle escape.
“I actually get to eat them now since you’re not devouring them all before lunch,” Celeste laughed, but the joy in her face wavered. A flicker of sadness crossed her expression, as if she were lost in a memory. She quickly turned to grab plates, her back to Riona.
She placed the plates on the small table in the corner of the kitchen, a cozy nook with large windows in a semi-circle.
The light flooded in, warming the wooden surfaces and highlighting the view beyond: rows of apple trees, the courtyard, and the city’s rooftops and spires peeking above the stone walls.
It was beautiful, a scene Riona hadn’t appreciated until now.
Celeste went to the pantry, pulling out a jar of jam, some fresh berries, and an assortment of dried meats.
She arranged them on the table alongside the rolls and tea, creating a lovely spread for an afternoon meal.
Waving Riona over, she sat down, and they made small talk, the kind that danced around the heavier topics they both knew were there.
After a few moments, Celeste brought up her father. “Your father is currently in a meeting in the next town over. He’ll be gone most of the day. Would you like to come for dinner tonight?”
Riona shifted uncomfortably, her eyes avoiding Celeste’s. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Celeste studied her for a moment before choosing her next words carefully. “…You’ll have to see him eventually, Riona. It might be better to do it at dinner, to be the one to tell him you’re working in the Circle.”
Riona knew she was right. She hated that she was right. It would be less of an ordeal if she just got it over with. With a resigned sigh, she nodded. “Alright, I’ll come.”
Celeste met her gaze now, her smile soft and reassuring.
“I have to tend to the horses and finish a few things in the apple grove. You can stay as long as you like, or I’ll see you at dinner.
” She finished her tea before kissing the top of Riona’s head, and left, leaving Riona alone with her thoughts.
Riona finished her tea and began wrapping the leftovers in a clean linen, jam, a few rolls, apples, and some pieces of dried meat before carefully tucking them into her bag.
She walked through the halls, her fingers brushing over the cool surfaces of the stone walls.
Her steps carried her to the library, where the sight of the familiar space both comforted and unsettled her.
The room was grand, with walls lined from floor to ceiling with hundreds of books.
Some were so old that their pages looked as though they might crumble into dust at the slightest touch.
As she scanned the shelves, one particular book caught her eye.
It was hidden behind another, almost obscured, but the light had glinted off its gold binding, drawing her attention.
It was bound in black leather, worn and cracked, with no title etched into its cover.
It was obvious it had been opened many times, its edges softened by years of handling.
Her fingers grazed the surface, and an inexplicable wave of fear washed over her.
A sense of unease prickled at the back of her neck, warning her not to touch it.
Something about the book felt wrong, dangerous even.
But curiosity got the better of her. She opened it to the middle.
The moment her eyes landed on the pages, her stomach churned.
The book slipped from her hands, landing with a dull thud as she backed away.
The grotesque images etched onto the aged paper were vivid and horrifying detailed instructions for animal sacrifice, complete with intricate diagrams. Surrounding the drawings was text describing rituals for draining life in exchange for spells of power, dark incantations meant to connect to the Otherworld through sacrifice.
Her hands shook as she picked it up, holding it like it might burn her.
She placed it on a small chair and bolted to the kitchen, grabbing another linen.
Returning to the library, she carefully wrapped the book, trying to touch it as little as possible, and slid it into her bag.
As she left, her thoughts began to race.
The Dark Books. She remembered fragments of her studies, how the original book of dark magic had been divided centuries ago.
There were four of them, each created from the fractured remains of a single ancient tome:
The Book of Sacrifices, a detailed account of rituals demanding blood and life in exchange for raw power.
The Book of Curses was a grimoire filled with spells meant to inflict suffering, to twist and break.
The Book of Demons, a guide to summoning and controlling malevolent spirits from the deepest corners of the Otherworld.
The Book of the Veil, an exploration of the thin boundary between the mortal world and the Otherworld, complete with ways to cross it.
These books were never meant to be read by mortal eyes. They had been divided long ago, their pages kept hidden in secret places, entrusted to powerful families who were charged with ensuring they would never be reunited. Their existence was meant to fade into obscurity.
But this book, the one she now carried, was real.
Had her father known what it was? Had he been entrusted with its safekeeping?
She couldn’t imagine it, he wasn’t the type.
But her mother? Celeste. That made more sense.
Memories surfaced: how her mother would spend hours in the library, how she reorganized the books constantly, sometimes more than once a week.
How she always seemed to be around when someone else was in the library.
Did her father even know it was here?
Riona shook her head, forcing the questions aside.
She didn’t have time to sit here and unravel the mystery. She needed to leave. Myrna had already walked by twice, her gaze lingering a little too long, as if she were watching her.
Securing the book tightly in her bag, Riona made her way to the courtyard.
She waved a quick goodbye to her mother, who was busy tending to the horses, and hurried back to the inn.
Her thoughts were a whirlwind as she walked, the weight of the dark book pressing against her side.
She recalled fragments of half whispered rumors from her childhood stories about the Dark Books, forbidden texts said to hold unimaginable power.
The book tugged at her curiosity, an insistent itch she couldn’t quite scratch.
Could it really be one of them? The question lingered in her mind, a tantalizing mystery.
And if it was, what would happen if she opened it?
Could reading it carry consequences? Or perhaps just perhaps it could help her.
Would that be so bad?
The thought unsettled her. She couldn’t stop herself from imagining what secrets it might hold.
The temptation gnawed at her, a strange mix of dread and intrigue.
The more she tried to push it away, the stronger the pull became.
Fear crept into her chest; not just fear of the book, but fear of herself, of the part of her that wanted to know.
By the time she reached the room, her hands trembled as she retrieved the book from her bag.
She placed it between the mattress, pressing it down as though that might quiet its pull.
“I’ll just leave it,” she whispered to herself, though the words rang hollow. Her thoughts refused to settle. The need to distance herself to clear her mind was overwhelming.
She turned quickly, closing the door behind her and stepping into the crisp early evening air.
She had a few hours before she was expected for dinner, so she decided to visit the neighboring town.
Staying in Frostfire wasn’t an option. The idea of running into her father in town was enough to make her chest tighten.
She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t put herself through that.
Coill Dorcha lay farther north of Frostfire, nestled closest to the woods.
It was quiet and pleasant, with a charm that set it apart.
Unlike Frostfire’s pointed and rigid lines, Coill Dorcha seemed to blend seamlessly with nature.
The town reminded her of Meadowrun with its stone houses accented by wood and brick, all connected by winding stone walkways.
Lanterns lined the paths, ensuring travelers wouldn’t lose their way in the evenings.
She liked the way the town flowed, its natural curves and bends following the land rather than reshaping it.
It felt calm here, almost like it had been waiting for her.
That is where she’d stay. She could walk or ride into Frostfire when duty called, but her life wouldn’t be overshadowed by it.
She’d speak with Commander Kael and find a place here in Coill Dorcha.
.