Day Before the Next - Part III, New Life; Old Grudges

My eyes opened slowly with only blurred vision accompanying the previous trance I was coming out of. I groaned.

Sounds of voices could be made out in the background, maybe they were of my mind, maybe they were actually there, I couldn't tell. In the distance were two torches from what I could make out, the light brimming from the yellow-orange flame which hurt my eyes to see after being in so much darkness for only the Lady knew how long.

Beside me was found my armour on the ground, a shine to it, but I could make out nothing as I looked up at the pale wall beside me... that's when the scratches and creases of it's builders came through and the grey tone flushed into my eyes.

I found myself tucked into bed, and the boiling heat from the room was surprising for a place that seemed to be so damp. I was light-headed, but all right. Realizing my wounds and cuts from the battle had been bandaged, I laid back down. A single drop of sweat came from my precious forehead, trickling down my skin. As it did, a maid came in mumbling to herself in a hurry, with a cold, wet cloth in her hands, patting my temple, getting rid of what sweat came.

"Ah, good, you're awake." She said in a soft tone, "We thought we had lost you!" She said with a bit of joy to see her patient alive and well.

"Where... am I?" Was my quick, yet lingering, response, a quick answer protruded afterwards: "Why, you're in castle Saint Brillien, good sir."

Saint Brillien, yes, I knew the place. My home was Castle l'Ambertrou, or as we called it Castle Marcel. Over the Hill of Amone, leading to the plains of L'Anguille, and then a little Eastward, you had Castle Gourenne and then Saint Brillien, almost side by side, which many of the nobles poked fun at for having stupid land developments like that.

My mind wandered as it recollected bits of information as to why I was where I was. "l'Ambertrou... why am I not- wait, yes, the Chaos... it is no more, what of my-" My mind trailed off into an oblivion of sudden repression of memories and gut-wrenching moments. My mother's own head ripped from her neck, my father... betrayed, my brother's body trampled by dirty feet. They were dead. Those three words echoed in my mind, furiously assaulting my sanity.

Before showing signs of weakness, I asked the maid to leave me, lying back down in my bed. Two knights walked in right after. Oh the ignorance of them to not let me have rest with my memories. Standing at attention, one wore Silver armour with gold in its creases and detailing of all sorts, a large fleur-de-lys on his chest plate. I knew him; he was my father's friend. His colours on his clothes were blue and white, the provincial L'Anguille colours. This was Sir Reginald. He was a bit of an arrogant man, but with great self-confidence comes great skill I guess, a true leader on the battlefield. The other beside him I knew not, but his colours seemed familiar.

He was lathered in trinkets of the Lady, all sorts of little grail pendants and crosses, fleur-de-lys symbols scattered across him. His armour was gleaming silver, almost a mythril-like shine. His helmet was in his hands and a long purple feather came from its top. Gold designs, which must have cost a fortune, and all sorts of details were on his armour, and a large diamond was augmented near the top of his chest plate. His clothes underneath his armour that showed were purple and white, in his hand was a blade, fine, elven craft too. Seen rarely, he must be from the West of Bretonnia, closer to the Elves, or so that was the conclusion I had drawn. Both of them seemed to wear more ceremonial armour pieces, but the occasion it was for slipped my mind.

"Jean," Was the first word muttered to me from Reginald, "it is good to see you are all right." Words obviously escaped him to try and express what he was trying to say, and that was when the other knight interrupted: "Your home is no more, your family is... no more... you are the last of your family, and as far as we can tell the lone survivor of the betrayal of Castle l'Ambertrou."

Reginald sighed, turning to face the knight beside him. "This, Jean, is Henri Borechard, a vassal of the Lord of Roiglan in the West, in Lyonnesse." Henri nodded at Reginald's announcement, and bowed low to me.

"My Lord heard terrible news of your family, Jean, and so what few retinues would follow were sent from as far as Roiglan to your castle, only to find the corrupted ones had destroyed it. My Lord was a friend of your father's; it grieves him to hear of his passing."

My brow rose slightly from what he had said, starting to acknowledge the point he was getting to: "I wish to have you stay with me in the outer lands of Roiglan, under my supervision. Lord De Ponthieu would be graced to have a survivor from such a tragedy upon our lands."

I considered this momentarily... so fast was this offer, but I had nowhere to go, nowhere to live... I had no choice but to abandon L'Anguille for now and find shelter elsewhere. Nodding my head in agreement, they dismissed themselves to the Grand Hall, where Reginald began shouting out to the knights assembled outside.