For a moment it actually looked like a quiet morning.
That was before the goose poked its head over a bank and was promptly set upon by a blur in a brown robe with black hair. Squawking, the goose jumped out of the way and fled again, Mistoffelees following quickly in an attempt to grad the bird.
Running through the village the pair interrupted a children's game, before the goose attempted to hide under a woman's skirts. Diving for it, Mistoffelees ended up knocking the offended women over instead, and soon enough was not only chasing the goose but fleeing her for a ways as well.
Finally free, he glanced around, having lost the goose. "Did you see where he went?" he asked a man shepherding a flock of sheep.
The man made a loud Bah-ing sound and pointed. Arching a brow Mistoffelees didn't take the time to actually question the man making sheep noises, in full pursuit of the goose again. The quiet morning was officially ruined.
Several brothers paused and watched Mistoffelees as the goose managed to make it's way into the pig pen. "I'll get it!" Brother Admetus declared, only to slide into the mud of the pig pen as the goose ran up the scaffolding of the wall being built instead.
"Sorry," Mistoffelees told brother Admetus before running up after the goose.
"Be careful!" another of the brothers yelled up after him. "That wall is dangerous! Don't run!"
Neither the teen nor the goose was actually listening to him though, and soon enough Mistoffelees took a wrong step and feel through the wooden scaffolding, though he took the goose down with him a least. Handing only a short ways down, the breath knocked out of him, he glanced up. Hidden behind the work going on on the stone wall was a crack in the wall, probably just about big enough for him to squeeze through. He could barely make out green trees beyond before the brothers were yelling for him. "I'm fine!" he called, finally tearing his eyes away and walking back outside. "Did any of you...?" No one had the goose, but he caught sight of it going behind a building and without another word to any of the worried brothers took off again. That at least answered whether or not he was fine, since he could still run.
"Aha!" Mistoffelees declared finally, catching the goose, who squawked loudly at him. "Hold still, I know this is going to hurt, but it will be over soon," he tried to sooth as the gaggle of brothers caught up to him again.
Reaching down, he grabbed the goose's tail, counting to the poor creature as he plucked the tail feathers. "One, two, three, four, five! There. Now run along and grow some more tail feathers. You should be honored you know," he told the offended goose before the creature turned and stalked away, tail suddenly much smaller. "Your feathers are going to be used to make great works, that will be remembered forever."
The goose gave him another offended squawk before flying up to hide. The teen brandished the feathers to the brothers, who clapped.
"See, I told you I would get them," he said proudly and stood. However, they all suddenly stopped clapping at the teen frowned.
"Mistoffelees!" a voice snapped behind him and he suddenly understood why they were all backing up half a step.
"Uncle," he said, turning. "I mean, Abbot."
"What are you doing?" Abbot Bustopher demanded, looking put out and annoyed. Which he often did, though Mistoffelees tried not to blame him. After all, as Abbot of an abbey that could be attacked by Vikings or even Irish raiders any day, he was just concerned for the villager's safety. It's why Bustopher was so concerned with building the wall after all.
"I was helping the brothers," Mistoffelees replied and brother Admetus considered trying to hide.
"The goose," he said instead, coming to Mistoffelees defense. "Here, I'll tell you what happened. We needed more feathers, and the goose was hiding and—" If anything the Abbot looked even more unimpressed when he saw Admetus smattered with mud.
"I don't care," he replied. "And clean yourself up brother. Mistoffelees, I have need of those plans for the wall. Bring them to me," before turning and stalking back into his round tower.
"But—yes, of course uncle," Mistoffelees replied, handing the feathers to Admetus. "Here, you should take care of these."
Walking back to the scriptorium with the brothers, Mistoffelees kept his eyes mostly on the ground as they complained about his uncle. "All he cares about is that wall!" Brother Alonzo said, shaking his head.
"He wouldn't know true art anymore if it came up and bit him from behind," Admetus muttered, entering the scriptorium. "I mean, what's the point of protecting us from the Vikings if we have nothing worth protecting?" he demanded, waving his arm around, knocking over Brother Munkustrap's ink jar, upending it everywhere on the page the brother had been working on. Offering the other brother a smile, Admetus handed him one of the goose feathers. "Look, for you," he tried as a peace offering. "A new quill." The quill currently in Munkustrap's hand was all but broken in half and worn down. "Won by our Mistoffelees."
Mistoffelees glared at the brothers. "He just wants to protect us," he said, trying to defend his uncle.
"Brother Admetus has a point, though," Munkustrap murmured. "After all, the wall will only do so much good, and what are we protecting, truly, when we spend little time recording our knowledge and working on the books?"
"But there would be no one to record the books if we aren't protected," Mistoffelees tried, but he didn't sound convinced either.
"We've also given ourselves only one exit from these walls by way of that gate. We have no escape should they breach the wall," Brother Gus replied from where he was sorting through parchment to find a sheet that would serve his purpose.
"Besides, you've never been outside these walls," Admetus replied, looking him over. "You've never even seen a master illuminator at work, or you would know what importance such work has."
"I don't need to go outside the walls," Mistoffelees declared, sitting down on the steps into the scriptorium and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I hate to admit it so soon after saying it before, but Admetus has a point. A master illuminator brings a new life to manuscripts that we scribes can hardly imbue it with," Munkustrap nodded slightly.
"But all of your work is amazing," Mistoffelees protested. "What more could they do?"
"A true master has the ability to craft the most beautiful art you have ever seen, to weave it among the words and bring the entire page to life. Not a drop of ink is out of place and the page is used to its fullest potential."
"Books give people hope," Alonzo said. "People need the hope and there are masters who are able to do it even better. Perhaps we should pray that one is delivered to us."
"Well, who are these masters then?" Mistoffelees asked, still not looking convinced.
"There are several on the island of Iona," Ademus informed the room at large. "Such as Brother Skimbleshanks. His writing is said to glow and blind sinners."
"But, where is Iona?" Mistoffelees asked, looking between them, arms still crossed over his knees.
"It is many leagues away, a small island far out in the sea. It is a beautiful place," Gus supplied.
"Where they don't have to build walls," Admetus muttered.
"But uncle says islands are too easy to attack," Mistoffelees pointed out.
"They are also harder to navigate too. A small island in the middle of the sea could easily be missed if a ship sails just far enough away from it."
Mistoffelees opened his mouth and stopped when Alonzo gave him a long look. "You're still here? Shouldn't you be taking those plans to your uncle?"
"Oh!" Mistoffelees scrabbled up and grabbed the plans before running for the round tower at the center of the settlement.
Munkustrap shook his head as the youth left, "The abbot's lost sight of true treasure around here."
"Not sure he ever recognized it," Alonzo replied, picking up the ink stained page from earlier and working to scrap the ink off.
"More's the pity," he sighed, "Ah, well. We have work to do."
B-B-B
Taking the stairs two at a time, Mistoffelees finally reached the top of the tower. "Here they are, uncle," he replied, breathless and holding the plans out.
Bustopher turned from the window, giving him a long look. "Mistoffelees, how am I to trust you with responsibility when you continue to disappoint me?"
Mistoffelees shrank back slightly, fiddling with one of the earrings on his ear. "I'm sorry. I was talking to the monk about the Viking raids."
That seemed to mollify Bustopher slightly. "We must protect ourselves. One day they'll understand."
Nodding, his nephew sat on the floor, opening the plans for the abbot. However, as Bustopher went over them, sketching on the walls of the tower, the youth found himself drifting over to the window. "Uncle! Someone's here!" Mistoffelees cried. "And he has an orange cat!"
"Another victim no doubt," Bustopher replied, still working with the chalk. When he turned around, Mistoffelees was gone already. Going to the window, his eyes widened on seeing the white haired man standing surrounded by the other brothers.
The traveler was talking to the monks, his cat in his arms as he scratched the animal's ears, "Yes, it was rather a long journey, but it wasn't all that bad. Not with this little one for company. It doesn't take half the time when you're keeping up with him. Isn't that right, Macavity?" He asked the cat as he shifted the feline so that it could see over his shoulder.
Macavity was purring, though his eyes seemed to alight on Mistoffelees as he approached the back of the group.
Moments later Bustopher appeared, startling everyone else. "Welcome to Kells, brother."
"Abbot Bustopher," the older man's eyes lit as he let Macavity slip from his arms and moved to greet the abbot. "It has been a while."
"Welcome to Kells a great illuminator of our times," Bustopher called out to the other brothers swarming around. .
"Must be a stone mason," Ademtus murmured to Alonzo.
"Brother Skimbleshanks of Iona!" Bustopher finished and Admetus' draw dropped dramatically.
Skimbleshanks smiled a bit at that, "Peace be with you, brothers."
All the other brothers suddenly swarmed closer around him, leading him toward the scriptorium. Mistoffelees glanced down at the ginger cat. "Welcome to Kells," he tried to say but Macavity flicked his tail at him and stalked off.
Skimble looked around the scriptorium, slipping his satchel off of his shoulders, "This is a fine building, good clean air, excellent light from that north window, and a well-designed area for ink making." He nodded, "You've done well, brothers."
Mistoffelees finally made him way into the scriptorium, following the cat. He entered just in time to see Bustopher scatter the rest of the brothers and approach Skimbleshanks, trying to lead him to look over the work on the wall.
"But, Abbot, I was thinking I'd stay h-" The illuminator found himself being ushered out of the scriptorium and he offered Mistoffelees a smile as he passed, murmuring to him, "Lad, find some food for Macavity if you would?"
Mistoffelees nodded quickly, only when he turned to the cat, Macavity gave him a long look and scampered off again. "Wait, I'm supposed to feed you," Mistoffelees protested, following the cat.
Macavity went right up into the wall and slunk inside, Mistoffelees trying to follow him, going up several levels.
The ginger cat stopped abruptly, and sat down to wash himself. "What would you like to eat?" the youth tried to ask and almost jumped and fell from their position when he heard his uncle's voice snap out through the wall.
"You shouldn't have come here!"
"Then what should I have done?" Skimble responded, evenly. "Stay and be killed with the rest of the brothers?"
"They will follow you here," Bustopher growled, shaking his head. "You've put all of us in danger."
"I escaped them and left them far behind, Brother Bustopher." He held his hands up placating, as he realized his mistake, "Sorry, Abbot Bustopher."
Bustopher gave him a dark look as Macavity jumped off Mistoffelees' head and into the room. "And so what, you brought your book here to us?"
"It is safe here. And I mean to complete it," he leaned down and scooped up the cat instinctively.
Well we have more important work to do," Bustopher said, looking out his window toward the East.
"You mean your wall?" Skimbleshank's tone held a note of incredulity in it.
"The wall is for our protection!" Bustopher replied. "To protect your book! Pagans and Northmen... It's a wall to save civilization. It is with the strength of our walls that they will come to trust the strength of our faith!"
Skimble sighed, shaking his head slightly, "You always were good with the technical drawings." He looked at the sketches and plans on the floor and walls of the chamber.
"I have urgent matters to attend to," Bustopher replied, moving off.
"Very well," he turned to leave, pausing before actually exiting. "No wall can stop the Northmen, Abbot. When they come all we can do is run and hope that we're fast enough." He sighed when it appeared his words had no effect. He glanced at the cat in his arms, "Come on, Mac, we'd best leave him to his work..." With those words he finally left the chamber.
B-B-B
Later that night, Mistoffelees slipped back into the scriptorium. He often went there at night to make sure everything was in order after the brother's went to sleep. He never seemed to be able to sleep when darkness fell and thus had it to himself for a while.
Once inside, he glanced around, eyes alighting on the satchel Skimbelshanks had been carrying. Approaching it, he yelped and jumped back when Macavity suddenly appeared atop the book, glaring at him. "Ah! Macavity. Oh. Don't worry, I meant the book no harm..." He paused. "But all I've seen are inside these walls. Can I please look?"
Macavity considered him before jumping on his shoulders and curled around his neck for a moment.
Skimble approached from the doorway, moving quietly until he was just behind the lad, "And what have we here, then?"
Mistoffelees nearly jumped out of his skin a second time. "Oh! I'm sorry. I was just curious was all, I didn't mean to..."
"It's quite alright. I understand how boring it can be eavesdropping on the Abbot's conversations," he offered a bit of a smile.
Mistoffelees' jaw dropped. "I... I didn't, I mean, I didn't mean to. It, it was your cat! I was following your cat!" Macavity gave him an offended look and leapt down.
That garnered a laugh, "Oh, no need to worry, I'm hardly going to tell on you. Macavity has a habit of roaming as he pleases." Skimble slid the satchel a little nearer to Mistoffelees, "Have a look then, lad."
Mistoffelees blinked at him for a moment before picking the book up. "The brothers said that sinners are blinded that look at the book," he said.
"Is that what you really believe will happen?" Skimble's attention was briefly diverted by Macavity jumping onto his shoulders. He scratched the cat under the chin as he spoke again, "It's your decision lad, no one else's."
Macavity purred before turning his eyes to Mistoffelees as well. After amoment the youth drew the book out, gasping at the gold cover.
"The cover's not the real treasure, lad. Open it," the older man encouraged.
Mistoffelees gave the older brother and his cat before opening the book. His eyes widened more and he couldn't help but lift the book and sit with his back to the podium, turning the pages. "The work of angels..."
"The work of angels?" That earned him a chuckle, "Hear that, Mac? I didn't know they made angels as funny looking as me. Perhaps the lad has gone blind." He turned his attention back to Mistoffelees, "I thought the same when I first saw it. But 'tis only the work of mere mortals. Like me. Or you."
Mistoffelees turned his eyes up to him. "Oh, I doubt I could ever..."
"Nonsense. Everyone has promise." He considered, "Do you want to see the most beautiful page of this book? The one that will turn darkness into light?"
"Oh, please," Mistoffelees said, putting the book back on the podium.
Skimble carefully turned the pages to a blank set of facing pages, "It is to be the Chi Rho page."
"It..." Mistoffelees glanced back up at him. "It's blank."
"Currently," the other agreed. "But it shall be the most glorious page in the entire book. Tell me, Mistoffelees, would you like to help me?"
"I," Mistoffelees leaned back for a moment, considering. He fiddled with one of his earring for a moment. "I would certainly."
Skimble offered him a bright smile, "Wonderful." He withdrew an oak gall from his pocket, "If you could help me to begin with, by gathering some of these from a oak tree, I'll show you how to turn them into ink."
"I," Mistoffelees nodded again. "Alright. What do I have to do?"
"Well, I'll need your help getting oh say a dozen or so from the forest. Come on," he offered the lad another smile as he started for the door.
Mistoffelees remained frozen by the podium. "I..."
The brother stopped at the door, turning, "What is it, lad?"
"I've never been outside before," he replied, voice small.
"Is that all? It's not as though you'll be alone."
"But," he paused and finally nodded, moving forward. "I won't be?"
"I asked for your help, not for you to venture off on your own unless you should wish it."
"Alright," he said and nodded, finally reaching the brother and his cat where they were standing, accepting the berry. "Are you sure you know your way around the forest?"
Skimble shook his head, "Not in the least. It's half the adventure. I know what I'm looking for, but where it will be found is an entirely different question."
"Oh," Mistoffelees considered. "In the morning then?"
"I think so. If we can slip past the Abbot, of course."
"Of course," Mistoffelees murmured, eyes slightly widened.
"Are you alright, lad?"
"The... abbot is my uncle," Mistoffelees replied. "He's why I've never been outside."
Skimbleshanks' brows rose, "Really? He's forbidden you then?"
The youth nodded. "He said it was too dangerous."
"Well, it is dangerous. I lost my brothers to attackers on Iona. But, if they were here now, they'd tell you that you will learn more in the woods from trees and rocks than in any other place." He stepped past the lad to pick up the book, "Out there, you see miracles. That is something your uncle knew a long time ago..." He shook his head, sighing, "If we plan to go out tomorrow at all we'd best get some rest, lad."
Blinking at him rapidly, Mistoffelees nodded. "Until tomorrow then," he said, offering him a smile and petting Macavity on the head on the way through.
"Good night, lad." Skimble offered him a faint smile and retired for the night.
Alright then. This story is different from our usual in dealing with a smaller cast of characters as well as a couple very different variations of our muses. You don't need to have seen the film, The Secret of Kells to understand this one, though it is truly a gorgeous film and we both highly recommend it. One of the biggest issues with writing this story was being unable to fully translate the visual beauty of the film into writing.
That being said, we hope you enjoy it, and the next chapter will feature... the forest! Feedback of all sorts is greatly appreciated.