Specks of dust glinted in the ray of light that filtered through the half-covered window. No one had been in this place for a very long time, and a gentle gossamer of white lay over the writing desk and long forgotten parchments.
Lindovor ran a gauntleted hand over the edge of the inkstand then with an impatient gesture, brushed his hands together to rid himself of the dirt upon his gloves. Nothing. After all these months of travel and searching, this was all he had found - dust and remnants. With an angry puff of air from his nostrils he swept the dusty parchments onto the floor with a frustrated sweep of his arm. He had meant to stride from the room and leave the place forever when he heard a beautiful sound like a small bell.
Looking back at the parchments that littered the floor, he saw a brief glint of silver among the fallen pages. It was a small brooch, such as noblemen or knights would wear upon their cloaks. Stooping, Lindovor picked up the piece of jewellery and examined it.
Arranged in almost the same pattern that one could find them in the night sky were seven stars...the Valacirca, if Lindovor was not mistaken. There were no gems set within the brooch, yet the silver stars had been so cunningly fashioned that they glinted like faceted jewels in their own right. Lindovor stood looking at the thing he held for a very long time. Then, reaching into a scrip that hung from his belt, he withdrew a fine chain from it and threaded it through the starred bauble. Placing the chain around his neck, he tucked the brooch into the neck of his doublet.
Pulling his cloak around his shoulders, he turned to leave the deserted place.
"So, you have left me not just a name but a mystery," he said under his breath, a mocking smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.
" I suppose I should be grateful....Father." And Lindovor strode out of the deserted Breeland Manor never to return.
