Chapter 2: The Fier'Dien

As the red-gold colors of sunset merged to black outside the Fier’Dien, Tehnerick stepped through the doorway, as the strong scent of beer and smoke met his nose. He looked through the bustling crowds, looking for Cesraungl; he could see Faenagal recounting his thoughts to a group of the flustered villagers, but no sign of Cesraungl. But, after a short while, he spotted Cesraungl, who was waving frantically to attract his attention. He went over to the small table, where Cesraungl sat, still dressed in his coat of mail, with a leather jacket over the top. A half-empty tankard of ale stood on the polished wooden surface, made of a dull grey stone, a contrast to the shining wood.

A bracketed torch was sat on the wall, flames burning brightly, but lazily. ‘Have you any answers to my last question?’ was what Cesraungl first said, ‘I hope you have an answer, or at least a theory.’

‘I don’t.’ was Tehnerick’s answer.

‘Ah well, I guess we’ll never know.’ He sighed, taking a short swig from his tankard. Tehnerick left the table, and went up to the counter. ‘Just water,’ he asked.

The barman, who wore a crinkled fabric jacket over his stained tunic, obliged to his request, and pushed a wooden beaker along the surface, filled with clear water. Tehnerick slid a few coin over to the man, who took them with not so much as a word.

Carrying his drink back over to the table, he sat back down and Cesraungl continued by saying: ‘Could you at least tell me what happened then,’ he had lowered his voice, so that the nearby people wouldn’t hear.

‘Well,’ Tehnerick began, ‘You know the lake of Caer’Uengal,’ Cesraungl nodded. ‘I was heading over there, you know, past our bit of forest and the rocks. I had decided to do a bit of fishing, to take the thought of those flustered people from my mind. I had gone in that boat, the one tied to the jetty, and caught a ‘little one.’ But, as the boat touched down on the other side, a group of those nasty skeletons appeared from the deeper forest, and went after me, as soon as they saw me. Then, after a while, when I had sprinted back to the village, with them on my tail, and went through the gates, and then that’s what happened.’

Cesraungl sat, deep in thought, with an occasional slurp of the remains of his drink. Tehnerick himself, took a sip from his water, as Cesraungl looked at him, with curiosity, muttering to himself, ‘Really,’

Suddenly, there was a crashing sound coming from the back of the tavern; one of the villagers had stated something that had made Faenagal angry. The unfortunate man’s chair lay askew upon the floor, while the man pushed himself up, dazed, as Faenagal stood angrily above him.

The crowd of villagers that had listened to him separated, as the barman helped the man up, wiping the dust off the man’s tunic; for the floor of the tavern was coated in grime. Faenagal stood, arms crossed, still waiting for the man to say something, but, gaining no response he stomped out of the tavern, into the dark streets. Quiet talk resumed in the tavern, and Faenagal’s tankard of ale was taken from his table.

‘What do you think that was about,’ asked Cesraungl, draining his beer, and standing up. Tehnerick shrugged.

‘Ah, well,’ he said, and with that, left Tehnerick with his empty tankard and went out by the side door. Tehnerick did not feel in the mood for a stronger drink, so he too, finished his water, and left the people to their drinking. Outside, he wrapped his thin cloak around himself; for the night was cold, and he wanted to get back home quickly, as the dark clouds showed signs of rain. After getting to his small front-porch, he took out a key from the chain around his neck and fitted it into the keyhole, he then hurried inside; it had started to rain.

Once inside, he took off his boots and cloak, setting them down on the polished floor, before leaving the room. He entered a small room, its walls lined with shelves, and various different drawers. Opening one of the drawers, he took out an earthenware plate, before closing it again. Then, he crossed the room and set the plate on a wooden table, and opened a cupboard that stood nearby; inside, were neatly wrapped meats, each one stacked carefully and precisely. All of his meats were purchased from a stall in the market square. The man who sold them was kind, charging low prices for the meat, that was the food of the village, and was always spoke of well.

Tehnerick selected a wrapped meat, the label simply reading: Beef. Placing it on the plate and unwrapping it, he put the strings and paper next to the plate. Fetching some cutlery, he set the table, before going outside to the water-tap and filling a cup; he was not one for alcohol. He sat down at his chair, and began to eat, relishing every bite of the juicy meat. After finishing his meal, he took the plate to a small basin in the corner of the room, where he put it in the water and retrieved a thin cloth.

When he had finished the washing-up, he went through a little oak door set into the wall, and entered another room, larger than the other, but circular, most of the walls dominated by curving bookshelves. Small, square windows were set into the gaps between the bookshelves, each one high up on the walls. A circular table stood in the middle of the room, a few untidy piles of manuscript sat upon it. Taking a leather-bound book from the shelf, he carried it over to the small desk, and sat down. He put his finger under one of the pages, and slid the ribbon from underneath it, before opening the page up.

Long curling script was crammed onto each page, stating many different things, all written in the same black ink. After a short while of reading, he closed the book, and put it back onto the shelf that he had taken it from. Going back through the door, he went into his kitchen. There was another door, that was locked, and he went over to it, fitting the same front door key into the keyhole. It clicked and turned. It swung open, revealing a flight of stone-cut stairs, and he proceeded up them. He came to a small landing that stood in front of another door, this one slightly ajar. When he went in, he was met by the sight of another room, this one sparsely furnished; with only a bed and a chest of drawers.

He stripped the bed of its sheets, and took some clean ones from the corner of the room. After putting the fresh sheets on, he folded the woolen blankets back and got into his bed. Then, he folded the covers back, stubbing out the candle on the chest of drawers, plunging the room into complete darkness. Wearily, he closed his eyes, drifting into a dreamless sleep.