Nicolesca

April 20, 2009 at 11:06 pm (Kaspar, Nicolesca)

Never in her twenty-eight years had Erine hated the silence as much as she did at this exact moment. It was a rare moment, what with two toddlers and a maid who wasn’t much but a child herself. No footsteps, no laughter, no toys hitting against the floor. The only sound she heard from within the house happened to be her own in- and outtakes of breath. This low volume inside made the outside world seem like such a loud place. She couldn’t recall ever cursing the wind rustling through the trees nor the birds flocking together and calling to one another across the sky.

The sounds had been too distracting. Most of all, the noise her quill had made against the parchment. Daily, letters had arrived from her sister-in-law and the High Councillor; and daily, those letters had been piling up, forming a neat stack on her table. Erine had decided yesterday that she was going to read over the letters and write a reply to each today — a decision that seemed utterly ridiculous the moment she had touched the tip of her quill to the parchment, leaving behind a nice dot of ink for her second cousin to read.

Instead of finishing with the few sentences she had written after her momentary ink-blotted pause, Erine had doodled and now– with the sound of the quill being the one thing she didn’t want to hear again for a while– she decided it was time to rest. With her arms crossed on the table, and her forehead resting on top, she closed her eyes to the world and thought about sounds.

In Euria, the sounds of her home were filled with laughter– the children’s, hers and that of her late husband’s. Music filled the air and the sounds of feet stumbling across the floor in what Aranis would call in an “almost dance-like fashion.” But, oh, the laughter. Aranis was the only one who could send her into a fit of giggles– her! the quiet and reserved Erine Nicolesca!– and even now, when the sound of his own chortle wouldn’t accompany hers, she could look back on their memories and laugh, albeit a laugh joined with sorrow.

Sorrow had been a predominant sound in their temporary home back in Saveren. The children’s cries occurred daily, while her own happened in the night. Everything had been tainted with the sound of sadness.

The sound still lurked in the corners of the otherwise quiet Aerilis. A quiet that Erine now noticed was being disturbed. Sitting up, Erine listened closely at the sound of the scuffled walk of her maid, the noise only growing louder as each step brought it closer. Already, Erine knew what Marine was bringing to her; but even with that bit of knowledge, she welcomed the change of sound and the distraction from her own train of thoughts.

As if on cue, there was a knock on her study’s girl. After allowing her entrance, Erine could hear the girl step into the room and shut the door quietly behind her. Erine already knew that– despite their different social classes– the girl was much like herself: quiet, shy and almost alone. Marine’s parents had died in the war.

“The High Councillor has sent another letter, Lady Erine,” Marine said the words with a soft underline of nervousness.

Erine looked down at the parchment on the desk, content that she didn’t do much with it besides practice art. “Does the letter feel long?” she asked, thinking back on Othinda’s last letter. While not loquacious in person, her second cousin had a knack for details and over elaborations when it came to the written word.

There was a brief pause from her maid. Erine glanced at her for only a moment, seeing the young girl clasp tightly onto the envelope. “It– it feels thicker than the last, Lady Erine.”

“You may put it with the others, Marine.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Erine listened again at her maid’s shuffled way of walking. But before Marine could leave the study, a question escaped from her without much thought, “is the noise different here, Marine?”

The steps came to a halt. “The noise?” Marine asked. Erine glanced over to her and noted the look of confusion on her face.

“Yes,” she said, turning back to the desk, “the sounds are different here. I can’t quite put my finger on it. But the birds … and the wind. It’s different.”

Silence took the room for a moment as Marine pondered over what Erine had said. Though she spoke barely above a whisper, the girl being so quiet, she nonetheless answered her lady’s question: “The birds sound wild and free, Lady Erine, and the wind is ever-changing. I believe that is what is different.”

The girl’s words had sense to them, she knew. Erine’s day felt a little bit lighter then, with the mystery of the sound of Aerilis solved. “Thank you, Marine. I do think you’re right.”