Pen Finds something that should not exist placed in her hands, A brooch with a personal device...and a name cast away. Author note: Crevan/Avallac'h knows Pen because of the events in "Another place, another Time". His past memory is her future...
The morning found many of the Singers saddling up their horses, preparing to return to the Manse and the Court of thorns. Pen was among them, dressed in tunic and breeches. She was listening to one of them talk about how Ill the Sage had looked after she had begun singing. It was not uncommon for them to find out a guest was ill after a performance, some even came asking for medicines.
"...He seemed overly pale." Said the singer. "Like the blood had drained from him. Looks like he could use a few meals as well..."
Pen had heard the symptoms before, she had experienced dealing with them. To hear of it among the Aen Elle, that was serious. it was typically a disease of the Sidhe nobility.
"Lady Pen..."
She turned her attention to the speaker.
"Yes..."
"Have you heard of the symptoms..."
"Yes, his majesty experienced them many years ago..."
Silence fell, they all had heard of what happened to the High King. The madness had cost the king his eye and near his life. It happening to another was a frightening thought.
"We need to go, while the guards can keep an eye on us..."
They all swung into their saddles. Pen took the lead, her guard close.
#
The Court of thorns was little changed in the days following The Return as it came to be known. The students still learned, the freehold still bustled on. Then a messenger from the Royal seat came, with a request to have access to the Libraries and Archives for the Aen Elle sages. The request set off alarm bells to many of the Singers, as the Archive held many secrets they did not wish the Aen Elle to have.
"...I have no problem giving them access to the Libraries," Pen said to the council. "I do have one, however, giving them access to the archives." She looked at Dain "...We have recently moved the most sensitive portions of our archive to another more secure location. What remains at The court of thorns is Guild restricted..."
"They are not asking to take over Lady DeRosin," One of the council said. "Only access to the knowledge, but I do agree the guild must be allowed its secrets. I agree with limited and supervised access."
The vote was unanimous, the archive would stay secure a little bit longer. Pen looked to see the Aen Saevherne Crevan watching her as she departed the council chamber, he did not look well and the tick at the corner of his mouth only emphasized the situation.
#
The Aen Saevherne arrived in all their glory, A pillion of raven's feathers marking them as such. Pen noticed their escort was holding one in the saddle, too ill to do so on their own. She signaled the healers to inspect that one first. The others funneled to a renovated dormitory to settle in. She would welcome them at the feast that night. It would give her a few hours to prepare herself. The request to come to the healing rooms arrived shortly after.
She arrived in the healing rooms, having taken the chance to calm herself. It was not good to enter angry or agitated. She was brought to the bedside of the Sage Crevan who had sat beside the Viceroy. She frowned when she saw his body shaking even in the healing sleep, either with misfiring nerves, withdrawal or the Soul Rot itself.
"...He hasn't a use name." The healer said. "or if he did it's forgotten." A brooch she knew to be Nuada's work was set in her hands. "This was on him, pinned beneath his mantle. It looks like an apple tree..."
It looked battered like he'd worn it for a long time, the setting were empty and tarnished.
"Avallac'h..." Pen said, shuddering. "Was there anything else on his person out of place for the Aen Elle?"
"No, only the brooch." the healer said. "...We put him under before he could explain, half out of his mind already..."
She frowned, this was not good, she'd seen shaking like that a few times before. Once had been from Nuada in the realization he no longer had his twin.
"...Did he try to harm himself?"
"No, but there is evidence of that. Scared up, like he tried to remove patches of skin..." The healer shuddered "...Some evidence of a Tattoo, pieces missing due to him trying to skin himself. Other scars too, looks like he fought something nasty once upon a time."
Pen watched the deeply sleeping form for a few minutes, watching the fingers twitch and the facial tic as well. She had wondered why the Aen Elle healers had not treated him.
"Check for nerve damage as well...Those with the Soul rot have been known to do more subtle damage to themselves."
The healer nodded, "Already checked, mostly healed over. What you see is residual damage. The other sages seem to view him with some disdain."
"And the reason why?"
"None given yet, we have not pressed them." He said. "We are having his belongings searched, some clue as to what started the rot...my guess is the loss of Soul-bond or obsession on something out of reach..."
She looked at the brooch again, remembering Lochain recording something about an apple tree setting roots in a Court of thorns. She had dismissed it out of hand when she'd read it. Now it was a possibility.
"I have a bad feeling..." She said. "I need to look into this, no Aen Elle should have one of these, let alone a Sage..."
"...I will inform you when we wake him, a few days from now."
She nodded taking her leave, and the brooch.
Nuada was surprised to see Pen in his workroom, looking at the sketches of delicate metalwork he had planned. The brooch was on the bench beside her. Something had happened to send her looking like this.
"...Finding what you seek?"
She jumped, so absorbed in her search.
"...It is not like you to go sifting through my drawings."
She held up the brooch, "An Aen Saevherne had this on their person..."
He took it and studied it.
"...It is my work," He said, studying the piece. "...But looks unfinished, I would have laid ruby or light garnet into the apples...and emerald for the leaves" He looked through his sketches with her. "...Here" He said finding the sketch that matched the brooch. "...It was to be a gift...the recipient died before I could even begin the brooch." He frowned. "You said a sage had this..."
"Yes, one suffering from Soul Rot..."
His frown deepened, Rot was a nasty way to die. He knew first hand what it did.
"He has my sympathies..." Nuada said. "I'll have the Royal Archive searched for any stories of a house that has an Apple tree in its heraldry..." He set the brooch next to the sketch. "...a tangled knot..."
Pen had to agree, the brooch should not have existed.
"I will check the Guild archives, we have some things from the Aen Elle, if it is listed as some personal device I'll find it."
Nuada nodded. "...I need to get back to being king, your presence tripped the wards."
She kissed him and followed him out of the workroom.
The archive that contained the Aen Elle heraldry was sparse. She saw one for a Gull and another for a Swallow. There were no apple trees, only the mention of a sage promised to wed a Lady Lara Dorn with that name. It confirmed he was an Aen Saevherne, but not as to why he had something Nuada had yet to make.
Pen knew well the story, that of the elder blood, its descent from an Aen Elle princess to the Lady of time and space. It had only sent her diving deeper until Regis snatched her up and plunked her in front of a meal and the large windows of the Library.
"Eat..." He said. "You've not had a decent meal in days..."
He was used to this, as she wasn't the only one who got caught up in research that they forgot meals. It was one of his duties, as he had been a healer himself once upon a time.
"...Perhaps you could help me as I eat." Pen said. "I'm looking for the mention of the name Avallac'h..."
Regis looked at her, frowning.
"I know that name, been a few thousand years since I heard it." He said. "A moment..."
He returned with a book that looked like it had been signed as if someone had tried to destroy it. Someone had not wanted that book found.
"...This came from Tor Zireael." He said. "I had hoped it would never be opened again when this showed up."
He set it beside her, the page already marked.
"...The name you're looking for is in there." He said. "...be kind as to not stain it with food..."
He was gone when she finished her meal, the name must have brought up a painful memory.