Fiontann

I’m on watch. I haven’t done this in a long time. I don’t remember how long though. More than two years, less than five. Still a long time and feels even longer. I missed it. It’s boring, yes. But it’s also hard. Having to stay focused when you’re alone. Having to stand quiet and as still possible and watch. Even down here it’s hard. I am sitting by the edge of light, by the stairs, as I am writing this.

It was another late night for Fiontann. He helped at The Thirsty Boar till late and now he was heading home to Cedwyn and Averick.

It was still dark outside, with only some minutes before the sun rose and brought the heat of the spring in Chetwood and Hamglen when Fiontann made his way past the gate of the hamlet and towards Chetwood. It was one of the days of the more relaxed training, he would run in Chetwood wearing his normal clothes with only his greatsword on his back. On days of intense training he ran in chain mail with shield and sword on his back.

It was early afternoon when Fiontann closed the door and leaned against it. His knees and hands were shaking and his breath was labored, he was pale and felt weak and scared at the same time. Scared that the company had made an irreversible mistake. One that they shouldn’t. He started to sweat.

Dear Mornenion,

Thank you for the letter and the offer to use your library at your home. I am sending some members of the company to pay you a visit and do some research. If you want to know they will share the matter with you. I rather not write about it.