Chapter One: The Letter
Listen to the walls at night, for they may speak to you.
Upon being presented with a pristine invitation to uncover the supernatural mysteries of Edevane Estate, Calanthe was eager to pack her bags. Thoughts of an elaborate scam plagued her mind, but the notion of an exciting adventure won over all thoughts of staying safe at home. There wasn’t much that she was leaving behind in Osidor; nothing she would be too saddened to lose, anyway.
Besides, how complex could Dr Thorn’s mystery be?
Something seemed off as soon as she approached the manor gates, but still she was drawn in - was it mystery? Adventure? The chance to wander the halls of such an ancient structure alone? A quick exploration of the Manor only brought forth more questions, but she was not the one to pose them; they were found in books, on walls, and in strange places they had no business being.
Dr Thorn wished for her to unlock the Manor’s secrets, but what would she pay to do so?
Chapter One: Dr Thorn’s Letter
Edevane Estate
Achenver Lake Road
Achenver
Epheros
9th Quietus 1505AA
Greetings Miss Calanthe Egeon,
My name is Lawrence Thorn. I have been informed that you have somewhat of a penchant for uncovering mysteries and investigating paranormal occurrences. This is the purpose of my contact with you.
I am the owner of Edevane Estate. I cannot in good faith discuss details with you over letter, but I will inform you that my staff and I have witnessed many strange occurrences on the estate which cannot be accounted for. Something odd and - dare I say - paranormal is going on and I wish for it to cease.
For your time and your trouble you shall be handsomely reimbursed, including a room and living quarters upon site for the duration of your investigation.
Responses may be returned to the address this letter was sent from. I hope that you shall accept,
Regards,
Dr. Lawrence J.V. Thorn
'Achenver.'
Two petite hands held two distinctly different pieces of paper; one, a crisp white piece of card adorned with pristine cursive lettering; the other a simple piece of paper with worn edges, a little dirty in places and likely older than Calanthe herself. Shapes of continents spread far and wide between expanses of water, each location once printed neatly on the page, but now some lost to time.
Curious eyes read the location on the letter then sought to match it to the map. She could just about make it out at the top of the continent.
Setting down the letter atop its matching envelope on the cluttered desk, a slim finger hovered over the destination before sliding downwards over land and water to end on 'Osidor'. It would be quite the trek to get to Achenver. Would it be worth it for what the author was offering? The money alone didn't pique her interest; life at home had really dulled down and she had been itching for a project to sink her teeth into. Maybe uncovering a mystery was what she needed to get back on track.
'Or falling for an elaborate scam,' a pessimistic voice in her head pointed out.
Disregarding the thought, she reached for her own paper. It was not as neat at the letter's paper, in fact it had begun to yellow in colour and the top page was thick with dust from disuse. It wasn't every day that she expected letters from evidently wealthy men. The last letter of note she could recall receiving had been the notice from the Royal House.
That was an inherently different type of letter. One which had long since - and very swiftly - found itself in the bin.
Intent on sending a somewhat coherent reply, she swapped the map for the letter. Her own handwriting was not at all making up for the lack of appealing stationary, each letter appearing messy and somewhat rushed with an ink pen that had come close to drying up from disuse. The reply she wrote was brief, the address scrawled on the back. She would need to figure out how to seal it before sending it off.
Uncurling herself from the armchair, she rose up with a stretch. The gentleman's letter was suspended high in the air for a moment, illuminating a pattern embossed into the card; a family coat of arms, proving further to Calanthe the wealth of the author. Little time was available to examine the print as a call came from above where the sun was streaming through the window.
"Cal! They're back!" The voice was young, male in tone and not too concerned by whoever they were calling about. It came from somewhere above her head, which tilted to try to get an ear for where it's owner was.
Both the letter and the map were folded neatly, tucked away in the breast pocket of her tan shirt. "Who are back?" came her own call, shouting vaguely upwards as she was unable to identify the location of the voice. Booted feet were already headed for the ladder, its rungs squint and held to the crooked sides with a mixture of twine, rope and ribbon. Some of the rungs shifted with her weight, threatening to collapse but holding long enough for her to push up to the next one.
"The Sanzin." A note of obviousness laced the tone. "I can see their boat."
Dark curls popped up above the walkway, turning like a meercat as she listened to the voice. A makeshift walkway - or, rather, crawlway - had been built in the taller part of the house, two bright alcoves sitting on either side. Calanthe's eyes drew to the one at the back, but she saw no-one there. "Where?"
A light tinkling met her ears, guiding as she surfaced onto thinning floorboards. Hands and knees edged around wood until the source of the musical sounds - and the voice - came into view.
"Here," the mop of black hair retorted cheekily, thin strings of a windchime wrapped like roots around tanned fingers.
Able to sit up straighter once in the same alcove, Calanthe pulled her long legs into a cross as she braced against the wall and peered down at the water outside. A small sailing boat was being tethered securely to one of the few fence posts below. A tattered flag danced in the tame wind, revealing a muddy background adorned with assorted green vines and leaves.
"They were here for taxes yesterday, what to you think they want now?"
Calanthe listened to his question and shrugged, pointing to the home the visitors were approaching. It was a low shack standing around one and a half stories tall above the water. They had the misfortune of losing their windows, revealing the same kind of ladders as their own home. It also gave their visitors the chance to poke their heads into the frames. "You remember the townhall meeting? They raised the taxes for some of the farms. If you ask me, they didn't pay their share."
Some truth seemed to reveal itself as hands withdrew from windows carrying produce, one of the visitors even coming away with a weathered coin purse.
The shouting began as they turned to head back for the boat. Through the window it was hard to make out what was being said, but from the hands the pair could see grabbing at the taken goods, Calanthe assumed it was an argument as a result of the seizure.
"They do this every month," her companion pointed out, edging closer to the window for a better view. "They pay less hoping nobody will notice, then try to fight when the Sanzin come to collect."
Calanthe shrugged. "Their farm will be seized if they continue. You saw what happened to Aislyn and Meira when they tried the same. They saw it, too, so they should know better. They're simply trying their luck, and it appears their luck is wearing thin."
"If that food ends up in the water they're going to make them pay double." Still closer to the window he edged, transfixed to the drama.
A palm reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "Gus, you need to be more careful. I haven't secured the floor properly since you fell through it. We don't want a repeat of that."
Rough palms paused their pursuit, his head turning to cast an accusing gaze at her. "You keep saying you're going to fix that but you haven't yet," Gus appraised the rough attempt to fix the broken floor. A thin piece of board had been placed over the gap and secured with rocks on two corners to hold it down.
Again Calanthe pointed out of the window where the fight had quickly ended and the boat was being loaded up without any further struggle. "I said when it dries up so I can get to market. We don't have the goods to spare to loan out a boat." A pause. "Or the goods to buy the tools to fix it, either."
"I'll go digging around tomorrow. See if I can find anything," Gus offered happily. "Then we can fix it."
It was time to break the news, a sigh forming the introduction. "If you find anything you'll have to ask Thalin to fix it if he's not busy. I'm going away for a while. For work." She sounded somewhat regretful, even if she was looking forward to the trip.
Gus didn't respond but instead turned a confused look her way.
"Don't," she had a warning in her eyes, "That's the look you give me before you begin your interrogation. I shouldn't be gone more than a couple of weeks, I'll be back in time for the bloom and we can take it to the market together," she promised, hoping that would dissuade him from the bombardment she could sense surfacing.
"Where is the job? What is it?" her interruption had done little to stop the flow of questions. "How much are you making? Can we use it to renovate the house?"
Holding up a palm to ward off further questions, Calanthe blew out a chuckle at the verbal onslaught. "It's in Epheros. Some rich guy wants me to look for spirits, he hasn't told me how much for. By the time I'm back we'll probably have to use the coins to cover the bills and taxes I miss while I'm gone." Before she left she would have to attend the Sanzin's building to inform them of her leave, else Gus could become like the family across from them who were now lifting rogue fruits and vegetables off the floor.
"But can we use-"
"Yes, if there's anything left it can be used for the house," she promised with a roll of her eyes, unable to visualise that they could afford to do that even with the supposed generosity of her new employer. "Though we'd be best saving it for when the wet season comes. We barely made it out last year, we have to be sensible."
It was Gus' turn to roll his eyes. "But we did make it out. Now we have some of the neighbours on our side, too. It won't be the same this year."
Calanthe didn't believe him, and he knew that. "Besides," he continued, shuffling closer to her side now that the interest had died down outside, "I'm thirteen this year. They'll let me trade, and you know I'm good at haggling." He shot her a pointed look.
"You mean you're good at stealing," she corrected smugly, pointing to the pendant hiding at the neck of his shirt. "Otherwise you wouldn't have to call on Poppi."
A look of false offence took his features, a hand settling over his heart and, coincidentally, that same pendant. "Don't you get the Goddess involved in this! I'm an excellent merchant, I just have different methods than most."
The pair of them joked some more, poking fun at their neighbours and each other but eventually they had to get back on track. "Are you going to go through Cancough? Or get a boat? Is it on the boarder?" Apparently their teasing had given Gus enough time to find more questions. "If they're so rich are they picking you up?"
Shuffling around and preparing to head back the way she came to go back to the first floor, she paused to answer his questions. "I haven't figured out how I'm going to get there yet, I only opened the letter right before you called me up here." She thought about showing him the map but there wasn't much space between them, their feet practically side by side when they had been sitting opposite each other. "Come down and I'll show you where it is."
