After an hour and a half's journey in my motor carriage, the rhythmic hum of its engine carrying us over winding country roads, we finally arrived at Thornhearth. Our first stop was the quaint little town of Willowhaven, its cobbled streets lined with timbered houses that leaned ever so slightly toward one another, as though conspiring in hushed whispers.
We found an inviting inn called the Oaken Ladle, its signboard swaying gently in the afternoon breeze. Deciding it was a fine place to pause, we settled in for a late lunch. The air inside was warm with the scent of roasted meats and fresh bread, and the murmur of conversation wrapped around us like a comfortable shawl.
Once our bellies were satisfied, we set off toward our next destination — a bookstore by the name of The White Griffin. Its façade was charmingly weathered, with gilded letters across the sign catching the sun in a subtle glimmer.
Inside, the air was perfumed with the faint musk of old paper and polished wood. Behind the counter stood a middle-aged woman — the shopkeeper and proprietor — and beside her, a young woman whose resemblance left no doubt of their relation. They were Marriane and Catherine Ridley, Alabastar Mages and, as Osric had told me, his trusted contacts in Thornhearth.
"Hello, Aunt Marriane," Osric greeted warmly.
"Oh! Osric, long time no see!" she replied with a welcoming smile.
"Hello, Catherine," he added, nodding to the younger woman.
"Hello, Osric," she murmured distractedly, her blue eyes still fixed on the pages of the book in her hands. Sunlight from the tall window spilled across her blonde hair, turning it into a halo of gold.
"Catherine, don't be rude," Marriane chided. "Come greet our guests properly."
"It's quite alright, Aunt Marriane," Osric said with an easy smile. "We're only passing through and wanted to say hello."
He gestured toward me. "This is my friend, Edward Cain."
"Hello," I said, offering a polite bow. "Edward Cain, novelist."
"A novelist, is it?" Marriane's lips curved into a knowing smile. "It's nice to meet such a young and handsome gentleman. Don't you agree, Catherine?"
With a reluctant sigh, Catherine closed her book and finally rose to her feet. Her gaze fixed on me, sharp and unblinking.
"Edward Cain," she said evenly, "son of Count Jonathan Cain of Greenwood. You and Osric seek to investigate the death of Lord Cassian Velloren, believing it to be connected to Chaos magic."
I raised an eyebrow. "And how, pray tell, do you know all that?"
"I read his mind," she replied casually, pointing toward Osric.
"Catherine!" Osric's voice sharpened. "You promised me you wouldn't do that. Have you forgotten?"
"I didn't forget," she said, tilting her head, "but I couldn't read his mind." She pointed at me now. "It's as if something powerful is blocking me. So, I read yours instead, Osric. You really ought to work on your mental defenses."
"I apologize for my daughter's forwardness, Lord Edward," Marriane said quickly, her tone laced with embarrassment.
"It's quite alright," I assured her.
"I wish to join you, Lord Edward," Catherine announced, her voice brimming with conviction. "I am a Psycher — my skills could be invaluable in your investigation."
I looked at Osric.
He gave a helpless shrug, palms up. "I can't stop her."
"Very well," I said at last. "You may join us. The more the merrier, I suppose."
"But Catherine," Marriane interjected, "if this involves the Zanthion Mages, it will be dangerous…"
"Never doubt my abilities, Mother," Catherine said with a mischievous smile. "Besides, Osric is here, and this handsome and wealthy Lord Edward will protect me." She winked, her tone dripping with playful audacity.
Marriane's brows knit together, unsure whether to be amused or concerned.
"This rich and mysterious nobleman, with powers yet unseen, will keep me safe — trust me, Mother." Catherine's arm slipped around mine, her wink now exaggerated to near theatrical effect.
A slow smile spread across Marriane's face. "Perhaps my daughter is right. It's time you explored the world. Nineteen years old — an adult by all accounts, isn't that so, Catherine?"
"Yes!" she answered brightly.
I simply smiled, while beside me Osric exhaled the long, weary sigh of a man who knew resistance was futile.
And so, with our number now three, we resumed our journey toward the shadowed reaches of Duskwither Forest.
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