Veil of Lledrith

Rowan nestled herself on the expansive wrap-around porch, her legs tucked snugly into her oversized hoodie as she sat on a rustic wooden chair. The morning air was crisp, and the farm was slowly stirring to life. She traced her fingers along the rim of a steaming mug of tea that rested on the weathered wooden table before her. Her mind wandered through the long list of tasks awaiting her, the mere thought of it left her feeling a bit weary. With a soft sigh, she lifted the mug, savoring the warmth as she took a deep, comforting sip.

"I don't know why I agreed to this," she mumbled. A moment passed before she answered, "Because there was no one else."

The first light of sunrise had just begun to peak over the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow across the landscape. The morning air was cool, and dew still clung to the grass and leaves of the old cherry tree that stood proudly in front of the farmhouse. Rowan remembered those summer visits to her grandparents' farm. At that time, it was a place she fondly thought of as "home." She would spend her days picking cherries and then making pies with her grandma, while her grandpa busied himself with the endless tasks of farm life.

Her mother never accompanied her on these trips, and the reason for her absence was a topic shrouded in silence. Perhaps it was because everyone knew the reason, and discussing it was considered in bad taste. Rowan never asked, and the subject was never broached. That was fine with her; she cherished having her grandma all to herself.

Mornings were a special time for Rowan and her grandma. They would rise early to collect fresh eggs from the henhouse, then enjoy breakfast on the porch, savoring toast with homemade jam and sipping tea. Afterward, they might take a leisurely walk down to the pond to feed the fish or visit the old barn to play with the newest litter of barn cats, who would inevitably be found napping in the hay.

She turned to where the old barn now sat. It was half-dilapidated, but her grandpa had never gotten around to tearing it down. Well it would definitely have to wait now. The barn's weathered wood and sagging roof gave it a forlorn look, a stark contrast to the vibrant memories she had of it bustling with new life. She breathed out an inaudible groan and stood to her feet. It was time to start her day. She picked up the half-empty tea cup, now cold from sitting too long while she let her mind wander. She turned towards the old screen door, its hinges creaking in protest as she pushed it open.

"Hey!" She heard a deep male voice from a distance. Rowan turned to face the direction the voice had originated from. A few yards away, a dark-haired young man walked briskly up the drive from the road. He looked familiar, but it was taking her longer than she liked to place his face. Her brain itched with a memory that she couldn't quite reach. His confident stride and the way he carried himself suggested he belonged here, yet his presence felt like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.

He must have recognized the puzzled look on her face because he slowed his pace and smiled gently. "Sorry, maybe you don't remember me. Um, Ellery, Ellery Thorne...we used to play together as kids."

Rowan's face must have still been blank because he continued, "My parents live just down the road. Well, I live just down the road now, I suppose."

Her furrowed brows relaxed as she finally recalled a boy a little older than her who lived about half a mile away. At the time, his family was the closest neighbor they had, but since then, a few others had come to live on their short, unpaved road.

Ellery had grown into a handsome young man. His dark hair, slightly tousled, framed a face that had matured with strong, defined features. His deep green eyes held a genuine warmth, a stark contrast to the cool morning air. He wore a simple flannel shirt and jeans, the humble attire of someone accustomed to hard work. There was a ruggedness about him, a rough edge that hinted at the boy she remembered, now tempered by what she could only assume were the experiences of someone who had faced his fair share of challenges. Despite this, his demeanor was kind and sincere.

"Ellery, I'm sorry. It's been-too many years," she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she tried not to think about exactly how many years it had been. A mix of nostalgia and unease washed over her, memories flooding back. Ellery's smile widened, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Yeah, it has been a while. I wasn't sure if you'd remember me at all," he admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty. He shifted his weight slightly, as if bracing himself for her reaction.

Rowan could see the genuine warmth in his expression, and it stirred something deep within her. "Of course, I remember you," she said, her voice softening as a small smile played on her lips. "How could I forget? How many bones did you end up breaking that one summer you tried climbing that old oak?" She chuckled softly.

Ellery laughed, the sound rich and full of life. "Too many," he said, shaking his head. "But I'd do it all over again just to see that look on your face." His eyes sparkled with mischief, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. They both stood motionless for a moment. "Your grandpa wanted me to check in on the farm...on you, I presume." Ellery casually glanced around. "If you need any help with the farm, you know? I am familiar with the place. I've helped the old man from time to time, mostly with fixing fences and with the horses."

Rowan felt a tad guilty. She turned her head towards the horse stable. She knew that her grandpa had kept the horses around for her- even though she only visited a few times a year. It was mostly holidays when she would come to see them. Maybe a few long weekends when she felt homesick. Turning back towards Ellery, she forced a smile, trying to mask the sudden wave of guilt that washed over her. "You're always more than welcome to come by. I could use all the help I can get. I guess I grew into a city dweller after all these years. I'm not even sure I could climb a tree anymore-even if my life depended on it," she half-heartedly joked.

"How are your folks doing, by the way?" she asked, quickly changing the subject away from herself. Ellery looked away for a moment before returning eye contact once again. He stiffened a bit and coughed slightly.

"Um, well, they died actually." He swallowed hard, barely pausing before he continued, his tone and pace of speech unnatural and hurried. "Recently actually. It was a car accident, heading home from..."

"I'm so sorry," she found herself interrupting. Ellery paused. He stared intently at her, as if searching her face for something before smiling sadly.

"It's okay," he said in a tone just above a whisper. In a tone that said that it was anything but okay. The weight of his words hung in the air.

"Anyway, I'm just around the corner if you need anything. I'll plan on stopping by tomorrow and see what you can put me to work on," his voice settling once again.

Rowan smiled at him warmly, her heart aching for him. "I would appreciate that. Very much," she replied, her voice soft and sincere.

-

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the farm, Rowan found herself back on the porch, the day's labor weighing heavily on her shoulders. The sky was painted in hues of deep orange and purple. She sank into the same rustic wooden chair, her body aching from the day's exertions. The cool evening breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of earth and hay.

The porch creaked softly as she shifted in her seat, her gaze wandering over the familiar landscape. The old barn, now bathed in twilight. The horses in the stable nickered softly, their silhouettes barely visible in the growing darkness. Rowan's heart ached with a longing she couldn't quite name, a yearning for the simplicity of her childhood and the comfort of her grandparents' presence. Her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Ellery. His sudden appearance had stirred a mix of emotions she hadn't anticipated. The farm, once a place of solace, now felt like a repository of unresolved feelings and unspoken words. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply.

A sudden rustling sound returned her back to her current surroundings. Rowan's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding and then skipping a beat. She glanced around, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. Out of the shadows, a small, sleek figure emerged, moving with the stealth and grace of a seasoned hunter. It was one of the barn cats, its fur black like the night, barely visible in moonlight.

Rowan's heart slowed once more as she watched the cat approach. She bent down, extending a hand. The cat rubbed against the back of her hand, purring softly. "Hello there" she purred back, scooping the cat up and into her arms in a single graceful movement. "Did you come to keep me company?" She rose from the chair deciding to retire to the living room for a drink before bed.

Inside the house, the air was sweet and familiar, carrying the faint scent of lavender and old wood. Rowan set the cat down near the fireplace and struck a match, lighting the kindling. The flames flickered to life, casting a warm, dancing glow across the room. She poured herself a drink, the amber liquid making a satisfying pop as it met the ice in the glass. She settled into a worn armchair by the hearth, the leather creaking softly under her weight. The cat curled up on the rug, purring audibly over the crackling fire.

Rowan sipped her drink, feeling the warmth spread through her chest and deep into her stomach. Her thoughts drifted once more, to her grandparents, to Ellery, to her mother...she took a slightly longer sip out of the glass and savored the burn. She let her mind wander for some time before closing her eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally pulling her down- into a deep sleep.

-

She awoke with a start, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. The room was dark, the fire reduced to glowing embers. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows and sending leaves skittering across the porch.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the room in stark, white light. The cat hissed and darted under the couch. Rowan stood and moved to the window, peering out into the tempest. The trees swayed violently, their branches thrashing against the house. Rain fell hard against the glass, driven by the fierce wind.

Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air. Rowan's heart leapt into her throat as the sound reverberated through the house. The impact shook the entire structure, sending dust and debris cascading down. Rainwater began to pour down from above her. For a moment, she sat frozen, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. She looked up to see a giant hole in the ceiling and a branch penetrating that hole. The wind now entered the small farm house whipping around the ashes from the fireplace and scattering them across the room.

The cat emerged from its hiding place, its eyes wide with fear. Rowan scooped it up, holding it close as she moved away from the windows. The house creaked and shuddered. Water continued to stream in, forming puddles on the floor. Rowan's heart pounded as she looked around, searching for a safe place. She spotted the small closet under the stairs.

Clutching the cat tightly, she hurried to the closet and squeezed inside, pulling the door shut behind her. The space was cramped and musty, filled with old coats and boxes of long forgotten keepsakes. She settled onto the floor, the cat nestled in her lap. Rowan listened to the wind howl and the rain batter the house, each gust and crash making her flinch. The minutes stretched into hours, and she fought to stay awake, her mind filled with worry and uncertainty. As the storm continued to rage, Rowan found herself drifting in and out of a restless sleep.

-

Pale light filtered through the cracks in the closet door. A small beam of light stretched across Rowan's face. She blinked her eyes open, fighting to open them fully as remnants of sleep still clung to them and fought to hold them shut. It was quiet; it was morning. She could hear the distant songs of birds greeting the dawn. The small black cat still lay in her arms, fast asleep, its fur soft and warm against her skin. Rowan could feel its soft purring as a gentle vibration against her chest, a comforting rhythm in the stillness.

The sound of soft knocking drew her attention to the world outside the closet. Was it coming from the front door? "Is there still a front door?" she wondered aloud. She gently moved the still-sleeping cat from her lap and stood to her feet, her muscles stiff from sleeping in the confined space. She opened the closet door. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of rain and earth.

The knocking persisted, more insistent now. Rowan hurried to the door. She opened it, hesitantly. Ellery stood in the doorway, his eyes meeting Rowan's. His concerned gaze disarmed her but only for a moment-until she looked past Ellery to the destruction outside of the farmhouse. The storm had left its mark, and the damage was far more extensive than she had initially realized. The farm looked as though a tornado had touched down just outside. There was significant damage to the barn, and multiple trees had been uprooted completely, including her grandma's once proud cherry tree. Surprisingly enough, the only thing that stood untouched was the old barn, its weathered wood still standing- defiantly against the chaos.

"Are you okay?" Ellery finally asked, his voice filled with worry. "I saw the damage from the road."

Rowan nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm fine, just a bit shaken." She finally managed to rip her attention away from the unimaginable destruction surrounding the house and back to Ellery. Ellery glanced past her, taking in the sight of the broken ceiling and the debris scattered across the floor. Rowan's eyes darted from the roof to Ellery's and back again. His green eyes reflected the morning light, giving them an almost ethereal glow. His hair was damp. Had he been out in the storm?

Ellery stepped inside, his boots crunching on debris. He silently inspected the hole in the roof of the farm house. Rowan broke the silence, "I can't believe it. I've never seen a storm cause this level of damage."

Ellery's eyes were solemn as he turned to Rowan. "That isn't the strangest part."