“The best. Although I might be a bit biased,” Ruarc smiled warmly as he looked out across the water. Then, like before, he had Drysi grab his sleeve as he said his chant, and with a drawn-out step towards the water the world once again became a blur. Unlike the previous trip, however, this one was over in what felt like a moment. One instant Drysi was looking out over the lock towards the dark blue sea, and the next she was standing in the middle of a vibrant green field; her vision barely even had time to blur. Once the sudden color palette change had processed, the air was the next noticeable change. The brisk damp air of the Isle of Skye was now warm and carried on a gentle breeze; a breeze that happened to also smell distinctly of sheep.
Looking around, Drysi would find they had come out of the jump a short way away from a stone wall, and sure enough a flock of sheep stood a short distance away staring at the new arrivals with little interest. Separating, Ruarc looked around to get his bearings, checked his watch, and motioned for Drysi to follow along as he started to move towards a gate.
“We should be right on time,” Ruarc said as he opened the gate and ushered Drysi out onto a gravel country road. No sooner had Ruarc closed the gate behind them then an old truck trundled around a bend and rolled to a stop beside the druids. An old man inside waved, and Ruarc waved back. “This is Mr. O’Cleary, our ride into town. Welcome to Ireland. Morann is just down the road. Want to ride in the truck bed?”
[The Keep] Walking to Skye
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Ruarc had to tug himself away as Drysi swayed dumbly, fighting off a bout of nausea. She had tested herself by keeping her eyes open, but it had only made a short trip worse. Each of her eyes took some time to refocus, and, after wiping away some tears, she leaned into a walk after her master.
“Fookin’ sheep ay?” Drysi pulled her shawl up to keep away the smell. “ You know, my gram kept sheep. Used to pay me to watch them.”
She looked around at the open space, and, hearing the truck coming, fished out a case from her bag. With a snappy pop, it opened, revealing a sturdy set of turtleshell glasses meant for two eyes. The three eyed set was tucked away, and she pulled down on her hood to hover over her top eye.
When it turned out it was their ride, Drysi let out a little huff, but kept her glasses.
“Hello Mr. O’Cleary, Drysi Maelgwyn,” she bent her knees before bouncing toward the tail gate at the mention of riding in the back.
”Drysi, I don’t think that’s safe.”
Not bothering with the tailgate, Drysi flopped herself clumsily over the back. A swift snatch saved her from losing her glasses, and she righted herself in a way that almost made the act look intended.
“Calm yer scales, Gid,” cooly answered the apprentice, offering a thumbs up, ”It may surprise you to know that I’m not so posh I’m above ridin’ in the back of a truck.”
“Fookin’ sheep ay?” Drysi pulled her shawl up to keep away the smell. “ You know, my gram kept sheep. Used to pay me to watch them.”
She looked around at the open space, and, hearing the truck coming, fished out a case from her bag. With a snappy pop, it opened, revealing a sturdy set of turtleshell glasses meant for two eyes. The three eyed set was tucked away, and she pulled down on her hood to hover over her top eye.
When it turned out it was their ride, Drysi let out a little huff, but kept her glasses.
“Hello Mr. O’Cleary, Drysi Maelgwyn,” she bent her knees before bouncing toward the tail gate at the mention of riding in the back.
”Drysi, I don’t think that’s safe.”
Not bothering with the tailgate, Drysi flopped herself clumsily over the back. A swift snatch saved her from losing her glasses, and she righted herself in a way that almost made the act look intended.
“Calm yer scales, Gid,” cooly answered the apprentice, offering a thumbs up, ”It may surprise you to know that I’m not so posh I’m above ridin’ in the back of a truck.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Shortly after Drysi had made it into the truck bed, Ruarc had settled into the passenger seat before the truck began to trundle along the country road. The air was warm and the breeze in the back was refreshing as it carried the smell of green farmland and the sound of birdsong. Coupled with the ambient sounds and the rumbling of the truck’s engine came the rustling of cloth, followed by the happy panting of an adolescent yellow labrador taking seat beside the young druid and smiling happily at the new company and the pleasant breeze.
The countryside rolled along languidly, and in a few minutes a small town came into view. Nestled between two hills, the town of Morann looked cozy surrounded by rolling fields of emerald green. As the truck entered town, Drysi could see the low buildings were old, and the people strolled or lounged in the late afternoon sun. Many of those passed were older, with a smattering of younger individuals, and a handful of youths around her age or younger. Before long, the truck rolled to a stop accompanied by the shrill sound of old brakes. They had stopped in front of an old two story building with a metal sign hanging above a heavy oak door set on the corner between connecting walls of large windows; the sign read The Iron Cross Inn, and showed two rifles crossed with one wrapped in ivy.
Around the time Ruarc had gotten out and was helping Drysi with the tailgate when the front door opened, and a petite woman hurried out. Pausing at the threshold, she took a moment to realize what she was seeing before lifting her long skirt and hustling over. Ruarc, noticing her, smiled warmly and gave her a hug after setting the bag down.
“Ooooooh, two visits in one year? Y’re spoilin’ me!” the woman joked as she hugged Ruarc tightly. As they separated, she looked at Ruarc with a sense of pride in her eyes, but also a hint of sadness as she reached up and ran a hand along the man’s scarred face. Collecting herself, she turned to look as Drysi as the teen got out of the truck bed. The warm smile returned as the woman stepped forward and pulled Drysi into a warm hug of her own. “An’ y’ mus’ be Drysi! So good t’ meet’chya, lass. I’m Saoirse, this big lunk’s mum.”
The countryside rolled along languidly, and in a few minutes a small town came into view. Nestled between two hills, the town of Morann looked cozy surrounded by rolling fields of emerald green. As the truck entered town, Drysi could see the low buildings were old, and the people strolled or lounged in the late afternoon sun. Many of those passed were older, with a smattering of younger individuals, and a handful of youths around her age or younger. Before long, the truck rolled to a stop accompanied by the shrill sound of old brakes. They had stopped in front of an old two story building with a metal sign hanging above a heavy oak door set on the corner between connecting walls of large windows; the sign read The Iron Cross Inn, and showed two rifles crossed with one wrapped in ivy.
Around the time Ruarc had gotten out and was helping Drysi with the tailgate when the front door opened, and a petite woman hurried out. Pausing at the threshold, she took a moment to realize what she was seeing before lifting her long skirt and hustling over. Ruarc, noticing her, smiled warmly and gave her a hug after setting the bag down.
“Ooooooh, two visits in one year? Y’re spoilin’ me!” the woman joked as she hugged Ruarc tightly. As they separated, she looked at Ruarc with a sense of pride in her eyes, but also a hint of sadness as she reached up and ran a hand along the man’s scarred face. Collecting herself, she turned to look as Drysi as the teen got out of the truck bed. The warm smile returned as the woman stepped forward and pulled Drysi into a warm hug of her own. “An’ y’ mus’ be Drysi! So good t’ meet’chya, lass. I’m Saoirse, this big lunk’s mum.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
Cruising across the countryside helped it all sink in; the color, the openness, the people, she had truly been far. This wasn’t very far from her own Wales, but it was a world apart from where she called home. Seeing normal people, and normal things was grounding the magical elements of her work.
Having the dog there helped, it was nice now that animals didn’t get all nasty. She massaged the pup’s neck, watching the land trail behind them.
”Morann’s nice,” contentedly sighed Drysi, ”why are we out here instead of Timiduane?”
”You don’t remember?” Gideon tilted his head.
”Didn’ write it down.”
”Do you remember why we’re going to Timiduane?”
”Somethin’ spooky.”
And so, Gideon refreshed Drysi’s memory as they pulled up to the inn. She took some notes on her phone, and only noticed they were getting off until Mr. Flynn came around to help her off. Looking to be helped down like a proper lady, Drysi put away her things to free her hands only to find a small woman had leapt into her Master’s arms.
Drysi had a lot of guesses to who she could be, but they way she looked at him, there was no doubting it: she was a mum. When she helped herself down and found herself enveloped in a hug, she melted into the embrace. Drysi loved a good mum, they gave the best hugs, and the apprentice had forgotten what good hugs were like.
“It’s nice to meet you Ms. Saoirse,” said Drysi finally, glowing. Then, it finally clicked: This was Mr. Flynn’s mom. She looked between the two, all the little details of their faces and mannerisms starting to sink in.
“Missus Flynn.”
Suddenly, she felt at a disadvantage, and began to fumble with her words.
“Um, I’m Drysi. Oh. You know that. It’s to meet you. Oh. You know that too. Um. Your son’s lovely.”
With that, she pulled the top edge of her hood over her face.
Having the dog there helped, it was nice now that animals didn’t get all nasty. She massaged the pup’s neck, watching the land trail behind them.
”Morann’s nice,” contentedly sighed Drysi, ”why are we out here instead of Timiduane?”
”You don’t remember?” Gideon tilted his head.
”Didn’ write it down.”
”Do you remember why we’re going to Timiduane?”
”Somethin’ spooky.”
And so, Gideon refreshed Drysi’s memory as they pulled up to the inn. She took some notes on her phone, and only noticed they were getting off until Mr. Flynn came around to help her off. Looking to be helped down like a proper lady, Drysi put away her things to free her hands only to find a small woman had leapt into her Master’s arms.
Drysi had a lot of guesses to who she could be, but they way she looked at him, there was no doubting it: she was a mum. When she helped herself down and found herself enveloped in a hug, she melted into the embrace. Drysi loved a good mum, they gave the best hugs, and the apprentice had forgotten what good hugs were like.
“It’s nice to meet you Ms. Saoirse,” said Drysi finally, glowing. Then, it finally clicked: This was Mr. Flynn’s mom. She looked between the two, all the little details of their faces and mannerisms starting to sink in.
“Missus Flynn.”
Suddenly, she felt at a disadvantage, and began to fumble with her words.
“Um, I’m Drysi. Oh. You know that. It’s to meet you. Oh. You know that too. Um. Your son’s lovely.”
With that, she pulled the top edge of her hood over her face.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
As Drysi tugged at her hood, Saoirse lightly swat at the teen’s hand. The matron stood in front of Drysi with a hand planted on her hip as she looked at the apprentice, and Drysi would realize she actually stood an inch taller than the older woman. She also got the impression that the woman was inspecting her, but her smile remained sunny and her amber eyes glittered. Then stretching her hand out once again she pinched Drysi’s cheek softly.
“Y’re lovely, dearie. Let it shine,” Saoirse said with a confident grin before turning and grabbing the bags. “Let’s get the two o’ you inside an’ settled! Ruarc, your room is as it’s always been; Drysi, we’ll put’chya in a nice cozy room with a grand view o’ the sunset. Supper’ll be ready in ‘n ‘our; got a lovely beef, prune & Guinness Stew as the night’s special…”
Saoirse leaned towards Drysi to whisper.
“An’ some lighter fish options iffen tha’s somethin’ ya worry about, lass.”
Once inside, Drysi was greeted with a cozy dark wood interior. Several long tables were spaced around the main room and benches to accompany them. A bar stretched along the far side of the room with a brass edge on the bar top. At the adjoining wall was a sturdy looking stone hearth with two crossed rifles mounted above it. Mere moments had passed before a few men sitting at the bar turned, saw Ruarc, and immediately beamed and came to pat him on the back and welcome him in. Saoirse put a hand on Drysi’s back and steered her around the sudden group.
“They’ll be a tish rowdy for the first few minutes ‘til they get a beer down the hatch, so let’s get you nested,” spoke the innkeeper before she turned to holler at the patrons. “Take the revelry t’ the rail, ya louts! Y’re muckin’ the entry.”
With that, Saoirse led Drysi up the study wooden stairs to the first floor, turned down a short hall, and unlocked a heavy oaken door before motioning for her ward to go inside. The room was modest sized and smelled of wood polish and vintage linens. The bed sat by the near wall, and there was a round sitting table in the corner with windows on both exterior walls; a small personal tea set sat on the table beside an antique lamp. Sure enough, as Saoirse had mentioned, it seemed the late afternoon sun was making its way towards the horizon of rolling hills.
“Take your time gettin’ comfortable, Drysi. Ah’ll get ya a pot of tea squared away, and let me know if there’s anythin’ ya need.”
With a motherly smile, Saoirse made her way out of the room after handing the room’s vintage key to the teen.
“Y’re lovely, dearie. Let it shine,” Saoirse said with a confident grin before turning and grabbing the bags. “Let’s get the two o’ you inside an’ settled! Ruarc, your room is as it’s always been; Drysi, we’ll put’chya in a nice cozy room with a grand view o’ the sunset. Supper’ll be ready in ‘n ‘our; got a lovely beef, prune & Guinness Stew as the night’s special…”
Saoirse leaned towards Drysi to whisper.
“An’ some lighter fish options iffen tha’s somethin’ ya worry about, lass.”
Once inside, Drysi was greeted with a cozy dark wood interior. Several long tables were spaced around the main room and benches to accompany them. A bar stretched along the far side of the room with a brass edge on the bar top. At the adjoining wall was a sturdy looking stone hearth with two crossed rifles mounted above it. Mere moments had passed before a few men sitting at the bar turned, saw Ruarc, and immediately beamed and came to pat him on the back and welcome him in. Saoirse put a hand on Drysi’s back and steered her around the sudden group.
“They’ll be a tish rowdy for the first few minutes ‘til they get a beer down the hatch, so let’s get you nested,” spoke the innkeeper before she turned to holler at the patrons. “Take the revelry t’ the rail, ya louts! Y’re muckin’ the entry.”
With that, Saoirse led Drysi up the study wooden stairs to the first floor, turned down a short hall, and unlocked a heavy oaken door before motioning for her ward to go inside. The room was modest sized and smelled of wood polish and vintage linens. The bed sat by the near wall, and there was a round sitting table in the corner with windows on both exterior walls; a small personal tea set sat on the table beside an antique lamp. Sure enough, as Saoirse had mentioned, it seemed the late afternoon sun was making its way towards the horizon of rolling hills.
“Take your time gettin’ comfortable, Drysi. Ah’ll get ya a pot of tea squared away, and let me know if there’s anythin’ ya need.”
With a motherly smile, Saoirse made her way out of the room after handing the room’s vintage key to the teen.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
It had been a blur coming into the inn and going up the stairs. Saoirse was so much person, and there were a lot of details to take in. So, she dutifully followed along, nodding her way right into her room, where the light of the setting sun finally woke her up. She murmured a thank you, and found herself back into a sense of privacy after leaving a crowded space.
In went a deep breath, and out came a burdened sigh, letting out all the taut nerves. This place was comfort. She wasn’t sure where Mr. Flynn’s mild demeanor came from, but she finally knew where the hospitality originated. Drysi and Willow always had run of Mr. Flynn’s cottage, and there were few times where he wouldn’t open his door to them.
Drysi set her things down, and found her way over to the bed. She unlaced and kicked off her boots for what was probably the first time in at least a couple days. The shawl and robe were tossed over one of the chairs by the table. Gideon was given his own little pillow and another frog to munch on while Drysi stared at the shadow of the waning day carefully meandering along the wall. As she wiggled her toes in newfound freedom, she pulled at the fingers of her gloves and tossed them aside.
”Drysi,” Gideon whipped his head around to his druid, mouth full of frog, ”are you okay?”
A loud sniff punctuated the presence of tears streaming down her face. Emotions long held, concealed and contained were coming forth as she felt the safety and warmth of this place. Drysi buried her face into her pillow to wipe away the wetness on her face. A daunting understanding had dawned on her in the wake of all the horrible things that had transpired in the past year of her life.
”I… I think I’m happy, Gideon.”
In went a deep breath, and out came a burdened sigh, letting out all the taut nerves. This place was comfort. She wasn’t sure where Mr. Flynn’s mild demeanor came from, but she finally knew where the hospitality originated. Drysi and Willow always had run of Mr. Flynn’s cottage, and there were few times where he wouldn’t open his door to them.
Drysi set her things down, and found her way over to the bed. She unlaced and kicked off her boots for what was probably the first time in at least a couple days. The shawl and robe were tossed over one of the chairs by the table. Gideon was given his own little pillow and another frog to munch on while Drysi stared at the shadow of the waning day carefully meandering along the wall. As she wiggled her toes in newfound freedom, she pulled at the fingers of her gloves and tossed them aside.
”Drysi,” Gideon whipped his head around to his druid, mouth full of frog, ”are you okay?”
A loud sniff punctuated the presence of tears streaming down her face. Emotions long held, concealed and contained were coming forth as she felt the safety and warmth of this place. Drysi buried her face into her pillow to wipe away the wetness on her face. A daunting understanding had dawned on her in the wake of all the horrible things that had transpired in the past year of her life.
”I… I think I’m happy, Gideon.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
After some time, a knock sounded on the door to Drysi’s room. Moments following, Saoirse cracked the door and poked her head inside. Hefting a modest ceramic teapot, the inn matron gave the Welsh girl a warm motherly smile as she saw the girl lounging. Softening as she noticed evidence of tears, Saoirse doubled down on motherly energy as she sat down on the edge of the bed and pat Drysi’s calf.
“How’s’bout a cup o’ tea an’ a chat? Or iffen ya’d rat’er jus’ ‘ave tea Ah can skedaddle back on downstairs,” Saoirse offered.
“How’s’bout a cup o’ tea an’ a chat? Or iffen ya’d rat’er jus’ ‘ave tea Ah can skedaddle back on downstairs,” Saoirse offered.
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“I’m okay,” Drysi replied in something of a gruff, defensive tone. She pressed her face into the pillow, knowing that her eyes were already a bit red, and it wouldn’t help. Immediately, she regretted her answer, and threw herself upwards, pulling the pillow into her lap.
“Sorry,” murmured Drysi, downcast and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “Still workin’ on vulnerability. This has been a bit of a shit year, and I’m trying to bang on. I was tellin’ Gideon, this is probably the happiest I’ve been in ages.”
A fresh round of tears fell forth, and she caught them on her wrist, laughing, “I can’t tell if it’s funny, or sad.”
“Sorry,” murmured Drysi, downcast and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “Still workin’ on vulnerability. This has been a bit of a shit year, and I’m trying to bang on. I was tellin’ Gideon, this is probably the happiest I’ve been in ages.”
A fresh round of tears fell forth, and she caught them on her wrist, laughing, “I can’t tell if it’s funny, or sad.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
“Iffin’ it’s any consolation, y’re alrea’y be’er at vulnerability than Ruarc, so good on ya f’r tha’,” Saoirse offered after she moved her hand as Drysi shifted and pat the girl’s knee. Then she stood, walked over to the table, and poured a cup of tea before adding some cream and sugar. Dutifully with a steady hand she carried the warm cup back to Drysi as the fragrant black tea wafted through the room.
“Best Ah really offer is that y’ve done well. Shite years ‘appen to all of us. Ah ‘ad mine, an’ Ruarc’s had ‘is. The only thing y’ really can do is jus’ what y’ been doin’. Keep crackin’ on. Before y’ know it the reasons t’ smile start t’ outweigh the shite.”
Saoirse winked.
“An’ iffin’ ya can’t tell iffin’ somethin’s funny ‘r sad, then go with funny.”
“Best Ah really offer is that y’ve done well. Shite years ‘appen to all of us. Ah ‘ad mine, an’ Ruarc’s had ‘is. The only thing y’ really can do is jus’ what y’ been doin’. Keep crackin’ on. Before y’ know it the reasons t’ smile start t’ outweigh the shite.”
Saoirse winked.
“An’ iffin’ ya can’t tell iffin’ somethin’s funny ‘r sad, then go with funny.”
Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye
A small sputter tripped out of Drysi’s mouth at Soairse’s encouragement, which then trickled into warm laughter. She didn’t know why it was funny. Perhaps it was all a reaction to this larger than life woman. Maybe she found the idea of finding humor in the tough times, itself, humorous. As eccentric as she was, she wasn’t that much different from Vincent.
It was so strange, the sound of her laugh was so unfamiliar.
“I feel like that’s a very Irish way of thinking,” answered Drysi finally, eyes drooping to her tea, “if you don’t mind me sayin’ so.”
She took a sip of her tea, the taste drawing her eyelids shut. One tea after another, she was definitely not sleeping that night, but it was hard to resist.
“Y’know,” started Drysi, going on the first thought had struck her now caffeinated brain, “yer son, my master. He’s quite famous. I feel I know at least a couple people who’d be jealous I got to meet you. An’ here I am, just taking tea and grumbling about my problems like I walked up for a pint.”
It was so strange, the sound of her laugh was so unfamiliar.
“I feel like that’s a very Irish way of thinking,” answered Drysi finally, eyes drooping to her tea, “if you don’t mind me sayin’ so.”
She took a sip of her tea, the taste drawing her eyelids shut. One tea after another, she was definitely not sleeping that night, but it was hard to resist.
“Y’know,” started Drysi, going on the first thought had struck her now caffeinated brain, “yer son, my master. He’s quite famous. I feel I know at least a couple people who’d be jealous I got to meet you. An’ here I am, just taking tea and grumbling about my problems like I walked up for a pint.”