Introduction- 1st Movement. A Duet of Two Souls

The night was cold, and the manor was silent. It once remembered a time where servants graced its halls. Guards stood lit at every door, and the light fractured across its glass panes with joy, laughter and visiting dignitaries.

Below is the introductory scene to my most current work of art. I’ll keep it short as not to spoil but here’s a basic synopsis. A Duet of Two Souls is a narrative of low fantasy. It will feature two main characters.
A Duet of Two Souls will be featured in three chapters posted here.

The night was cold, and the manor was silent. It once remembered a time where servants graced its halls. Guards stood lit at every door, and the light fractured across its glass panes with joy, laughter and visiting dignitaries.

The broad leaves on the trees outside were no longer a healthy green. Nor the gardens always moist and trimmed where flowers blossomed twice a year. The end of spring would see their petals drifting, and they’d litter the ground in pinks and reds.

But the manor was cold and silent now.  Silent but for the winds that blew fiercely and the idle scratching of carse and dry branches from begotten trees. They grew wild, and they lashed out at the windows, and there was the horrible screeching. The trees had become ill, their branches thin and wispy. They broke themselves on the marble walls of the manor and where the leaves willed themselves free. They stood barren now. Like many things in the mansion, abandoned, having fled into the wind.

Through the gate or over the garden wall. Past the many unlit lampposts and down the town cobbled streets.

The lanterns that mounted the manor wall stood little better. The manor’s occupants had lit them. Their iron frames had now rusted away and the glass shielding the flames lay somewhere below. They flickered wildly as they braved the cold.

It was no different inside but for the sound of muted scratching. The branches sharp on the windows. The halls themselves stood empty and in disrepair. Some candles were lit, and figures sat on the ground, the candles huddled in between. It was Cobb and Antonin. They whispered mutely to one another as they shared a half empty bottle of wine.

Summer sat on the foyer stairs. Far enough from the conversation to not interfere but close enough to the conversation to hear. Like their words, the stairs they stretched endlessly above her in elegant mahogany. The balusters like the words of the tale themselves were familiar, but they disappeared in places, and so did the steps. She held no candle and sat in the dark, examining a hall that was once hers. Listening to the men that once awaited her word.

“Kasper, ‘twas a poor man,” Cobb said. He was waving the bottle in the air as he spoke, he words slurred.

“Was an orphan,” Antonin said. His eyes had a faraway quality to them.

“Yes yes,” Cobb grinned, “like me, scrap ‘fer food on them streets. ‘Sif Avarice had stoned streets then.”

“Then he found it, like Sylvia’s flute himself, he stole it from the orphanage mother himself.”

“Theys’ say ‘twas magic.”

Grom sat down next to her, and she found herself listening to something else. She knew it was Grom without looking. From the sound of his laboured breathing and the uneven clump of his step. His movements filled with remorse. It was a pang of sadness that came from being a lifeless drunk. It pervaded his every action. The tired manner in which he sat and how sighed as he did so, sinking, drowning on his feet. It was a shallow sound, and she could feel his stare upon her. A look of askance, hoping for acceptance.

She stood up and moved on. Her shoes clicked with each step, and the sound echoed the distance as she crossed the empty halls. Cobb and Antonin looked up at her. They had stopped talking when they heard that sound. She gave them a casual nod, and only Antonin deigned a greeting.

“My lady?” he said but before he could say more she was passing him. Summer felt a twinge of something. Respect? Gratitude? She met their eyes and gave them a smile, one as genuine as she could muster. Antonin stayed silent, but Cobb opened his mouth to speak.  His words hadn’t left his mouth before she had turned a corner and left the hall, disappearing from sight.

 

 
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7 thoughts on “Introduction- 1st Movement. A Duet of Two Souls

      1. I really love your writing. Whenever I have limited time online, I go directly to your blog 😉

        Oh, just like that? That’s pretty cool. I should do that, too. Haha thanks for the idea! 😀

        Liked by 1 person

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