Arrival to their home was a pleasant walk, there were owls that were gentle calling out in the night, street lamps had been lit giving a calm glow to their little hamlet. As we came around the corner, a little sign that read:
Earlydale
"We rise early, we sleep early, welcome to Earlydale Hamlet."
I couldn't help but smile at their motto. It wasn't just a saying—it was the heart of this village, lived out in the way its people moved. Before we could even get the door opened their housekeeper flew the door open.
"You're late again, Rooks. Dinner's on the stove!" she called, nearly toppling Gertrude over.
Gertrude, her voice laced with urgency, called over her shoulder, "Rune, give her the dinner items. They are for her, and make it hasty!" I handed the packages to the housekeeper, but she snatched them from my hands without a word, rushing past me as if her britches were on fire.
Comforter grinned, watching the flurry of her movements. After a moment, he added, "If everyone ran time like your citizens, The Realm would go insane from not getting out seven hours late from discussions." He chuckled heartily, the sound filling the night air.
The statement made Gertrude and Gunther's cheeks burn red, while the housekeeper was already up a ways in front of us, what Comforter thought was out of earshot, however, she was not quite out of range. The housekeeper looked back at us glaring. Making everyone laugh including Gunther and Gertrude.
The housekeeper of Flurry definitely had wings in the kitchen, and the food was delicious as the fat from the ham glistened and it made this popping sound of delight. I was early awaiting the anticipation of garlic braised carrots, the potatoes were a mountain I wanted my stomach to conquer. Earlydale Wine caught the light making it look like it was as deep as the ocean. As if calling to me, and saying drink me, and never leave me.
Gertrude set the table and the china was a beautiful set painted notwithstanding my surprise, hogs. I could not help but smile. "I know the humour is not lost on me. My grandmother gave this set to my mother when she married Da, and I did not have the heart to part with them. As silly as they are, they hold such a place in my soul." She said matter-of-factly.
The ham platter had a full design of a pig labelling every part with great detail. Even the wine glasses had little pigs etched in the glass. You could say we had a ham of a time.
Comforter talked about past pilgrims like me. The trials they passed and failed, but refused to go into detail about what constituted a pass or fail to make sure that I was on equal footing with others who were with me at the Monastery.
The night waned on and there was a submission in Gertrude's eyes, and she finally said what we all wanted to discuss. "Well, Gunther, go ahead and ask them. It is a noble cause but the details will have to be worked out." Gertrude said, as she was pouring tea, and even the tea set had hogs on cups, they were tiny pink ones roaming through fields.
Gunther took a large deep breath that seemed to get caught in his throat. His silence before speaking brought a dagger to the light conversation over a meal that was so brilliant,I could not remember when my lips had tasted so delectable. He fumbled with the tiny tea cups, traces of worry as he looked down made him look decades older. He placed the tea cup back on the saucer with a shaking hand, and leaned forward on the table placing his head on the bridges of his fingertips.
His chest heaved in and out a few times and all we could hear was the clock ticking on the wall made with a skilled hand as the details were incredible. I almost got lost in the craftsmanship, the ticking was a distraction but the ticking resounding in the moment made Gunther breath even heavier. Time was weighing on all of us at that moment. What only seemed like a few moments, the silence made us feel like we were sitting in eternity. Time was standing still for us. As if the Realm and love was holding their breath standing guard over this moment.
Gunther poured another glass of wine with the slowness of a sloth, he heaved a few more times, cleared his throat with nervousness and then began as if he had to tow the words from his very being.
He swirled the glass around several times as if he was weighing something on his mind. He looked at me then back at Comforter. He closed his eyes tightly and breathed a prayer under his breath before he began. He fiddled with the stem of the glass then clasped Gertrude so hard, I saw the knuckles of her hand go white as the china now washed and put away under the clock. It reminded me that often beauty and time go and hand in hand. Friendships and hardships also are tied together like the binding of bone to flesh, never to be separated. Linked together like The Pestel and Hog. Friendships over hardships would be forged this very night. He held her gaze long and firm and he put her hand to his cheek, when he let her hand down, she gave a tiny nod, to allow the silence to break but for possible friends to mend the brokenness.
"There is a plague in Calideen neigh on five-hundred leagues from here. I need help to administer medication to the sick. I know you have a pilgrim in the middle of trials but the citizens here do not see the need to help. If I could divide myself in two to serve all, gladly, I would. Comforter, will you please help, what shall the citizens of Nod do if they are wiped out by Plague? Surely the Realm cares for the citizens of Nod just as the Author of Life?" The rendition hung in the air
Never before in the history of the Realm has a pilgrim ever stopped his training. However, do not take this as me being callous to the plight of the citizens in this hamlet, quite the contrary. The citizens of Nod are my family and family to The Nim. These are grave circumstances, with dire consequences, I simply cannot give you an answer tonight, maybe not even for a few days or weeks. The Realm will need to see Rune and ask him questions. I understand the urgency of what you are dealing with Gunther, but a pilgrim's trial has never been meddled with, but let us not lose hope yet, my friend, let us sleep well and in prayer, and we will make the journey to Furlin, first thing in the morning." His voice cracked with this decision. His voice was so shallow and low I wondered if there was even life left in my mentor. Comforter had said with a voice of strength, and moved to hug Gunther and pressed into him so hard I thought Gunther would break in half. It was clear Comforter was not passing his friend's request off like a cloak in summer, rather binding his request to a mortal wound.
Only the Nim are allowed to go into the gates of Furlin. This would be the first time in all of history, a pilgrim would abandon a trial and would be the first in history for a mortal of all things to cross into the threshold of Furlin.
I could not sleep though the peace in the Rooks was comforting, I tossed and turned like a ship on an angry sea. Flipped my goose down so many times that it would just find a second life and fly away. I grumbled and punched it more. I would lay still and then toss again, my mind in a vice I simply could not escape, the more I thought the more I rolled in the cocoon of sheets, my bed had become a web of restlessness, and so it was for a long while. So many questions rolled like waves in my mind. Yet, there were songs coming from the calming voice of Comforter. Songs of hope etched with bravery in their stanzas. Softly he sang as if he sang to the Author of Life, Himself, yet, they were not for Him, they were for my young troubled heart. As he sang, I could feel the gentle gaze of Comforter, the gaze I had come to know over the weeks of trials and tribulations and I knew that I could sleep and trust my destination to the Author of Life.
I allowed the twisting and turning of my sheets to cease and allow the gentle darkness to envelop my soul. Comforter was my lighthouse and I could rest knowing he would see me to an amazing destiny even if I was not sure where my destiny would be.