Author's Note & Disclaimer: I do NOT own Case Closed or any of the characters therein, save the new ones created for this fanfic. This is based SOLELY on the Americanized Anime that appears on Adult Swim on Cartoon Network, and thus the use of the American names for the characters. Please R&R
Ormandria
The house stood silent as a quiet breeze blew through the sparse trees that surrounded it. It was an elegant masterpiece from another time, with high arched windows, a wide wrap-around porch complete with a swing and several set-in oil lamps that were used whenever people had cause to sit outside. The ivy, creeping up along the sides of the great house, aiming to reach the third floor, completed the picture, giving on-lookers the impression of a house that had been built almost a century before and that had withstood the test of time.
It had an air of noble dignity and composure that was not unlike that which the owner carried with her. Normally the house, which stood only a few hundred feet from a cliff over-looking the ocean, was bustling with activity as the staff went about their daily chores and tourists, from all over Japan, came to glimpse the beautiful scenery and stay in one of the many rooms that were rented out for holidays in the house.
Today though, there were no guests to wander the grounds, admiring the scenery and no staff to take care of them or the owner. In fact, there was no one at all in or around the house, save a lone figure sitting by a high window in the foray. She sat, her back straight in the same wheel-chair that she had spent most of the last two decades in, looking out the window at the seagulls flying overhead. The sun, still sitting high in the sky, glistened off their wings and their voices cried out in wonderful resonance against the echoing cliff face beyond.
After several moments of enjoying the scene, the elderly woman heaved a deep sigh and turned back to her desk and the task that lay before her. Several envelopes lay before her, already addressed and sealed. Only one remained to be dealt with.
It had taken some time to convince the staff to leave her for the day, and she regretted having to tell people that they would not be able to vacation at the house this summer, but it had been necessary. She needed the room for her guests and as for the staff; she preferred that the only people present for this particular gathering be those that she specifically invited.
The woman picked up the final invitation, looking it over one last time. She then slipped it into its envelope and brought a small, wet sponge across the back so that she could seal it. Picking up the calligraphy pen next to her, she began to patiently scrawl the name and address across the front. Her aged hands moved with the steadiness of one many years younger then her, or one who had been well schooled in penmanship in her younger days.
When she was done, she placed the envelope on top of the others, and piled them together so that they would be ready for the postman when he came to collect the mail later in an hour's time. Once that was done, there would be not turning back. Not that she was interested in the chance to turn back. This was something that needed to be done. Something that she needed to do.
She placed the letters in her lap and wheeled herself to the front hall to place them on the stand near the door, so they would remain within easy reach. After that she decided to go fix herself a light snack.
The pile of envelopes sat neatly on the small round table near the door, the top most one, just slightly askew from the others. On its face, in neat, yet elegant print, read the name Richard Moore, Detective.
Outside the house, the seagulls continued to call out to each other as they dove repeatedly into the sea for food, and the breeze continued to waft its way through the tree branches, lending an appearance of serenity to the surroundings.