Promises Beyond The Veil Of Light ( PT 31 )

 

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Part Thirty One

 

There was a steady rhythmical ticking from the old Grandfather clock which resided in an alcove near the bottom of the stairs. It was the only sound to be heard in the great hallway of Ravenclaw's residence, a reminder of bygone years as it stood the test of time and never broke down.

 

The stroke of ten rang out echoing through the open door of the sitting room, disturbing Ravenclaw who sat in his usual chair opposite his mother preparing notes for his coven speech the next morning at the dawning of the Winter Solstice.

 

He had recently become a High Priest after nearly twenty years and would lead his coven at the usual Solstice meeting place of the circle of Brothers and Sister Stones high up on the surrounding hills, where all druids, witches and pagans would meet.

 

It was a sacred setting with huge stones they named The Brothers, surrounding the smaller stones they named The Sisters, who then circled an ancient Oak which stood proudly in the middle, its knobbly branches hung like arms outstretched and the trunk held images that appeared like faces, yet nobody knew its exact age, but it did go back thousands of years and was treated with the greatest respect.

 

Although it wasn't such a serious occasion, Hirwin still liked to be prepared, talking of the coming year ahead and their plans to meet and share what they'd achieved in their hopes and dreams. There were twelve members in their coven, with six men and six women who each had their jobs and knew their place.

 

Now he was feeling the pressure of being High Priest, yet felt privileged to hold the position where he was respected though he wouldn't talk about any of this to others outside of the coven, not even Evie who he was still friendly with but not seeing as frequently as he used to.

 

Because Hirwin needed to be at the location before anyone else, it meant having to be up and ready at 3am for when his colleague Paul came to pick him up, it worried him that he'd oversleep even though he'd set his alarm, realizing just how late it was this Solstice Eve,

Hirwin had an urgency to get to his bed, now dinner had been eaten which Ruth had thankfully cooked before she left that evening, and all the dirty dishes had been placed in the dishwasher, she was on the ball and had left the kitchen spotless too.

 

That evening it had been Ruth's night off, she'd gone out with a friend and wouldn't be home till late...much to Hirwin's annoyance, because it left him to cope with his mother alone, which was the last thing he actually needed tonight.

 

Putting down his paper and pen, he picked up his glass and drank the last of the whiskey. Hirwin pondered about pouring himself another, but then thought better of it, after all! He mused, I don't want to wake up with a raging headache.

 

He gazed at the fire which was almost out and wondered if he should leave the coals to turn to ash, but then decided it would be best to keep the flames burning for now. The copper scuttle sat in the grate full up with coal and ready for the fire. Eagerly Hirwin picked it up and launched the contents onto the embers. Gathering up the ancient bellows that sat in the grate and had been handed down from generation to generation, Hirwin began pumping, directing air beneath the coal. There was an instant reaction as flames began to rise changing the ambiance of the room from cold to warm.

 

Now satisfied he'd achieved what would eventually be a good blaze, Hirwin sauntered over to his mother who had been comfortably sleeping in her usual chair. Bending down he placed his hands on hers and brushed them gently but she never stirred, so he took her hands in his and shook them. “Mother, mother, you're so tired, let's get you to bed before you end up staying down here all night.”

 

Erika jumped slightly startled by the sudden disturbance, then opened her eyes and smiled when she saw her son. Wisps of grey hair hung around her bony shoulders that appeared so slight, it seemed to Hirwin they would break like a china doll if not handled with care.

 

“My darling boy, you're always so caring of your dear old mum. Help me up please.”

 

As Hirwin took her arm she came to standing, he carefully put the walking sticks in her hands and helped Erika, grabbing her floral shawl off the back of the chair. It was an effort to get around as her stiff body ached each time she moved. Erika never spoke much these days, it seemed to Hirwin that she spent most of her time in her own thoughts. Sometimes a smile would cross her face for no reason, or as if she were watching a comedy or reading a funny book, yet her whole life was spent either sleeping or gazing into thin air.

 

The stairs were never easy for Erika the older she got, but every time Hirwin suggested his mum having a room downstairs, she would have none of it, saying, “No I will not sleep anywhere else, it's keeping your father's memories alive, that was our alone space, I will die in that room.”

 

Erika's bedroom was large with a high ceiling. Old fashioned flowery wallpaper which surrounded the room had seen better days, as the red roses displayed were fading badly. Opposite her huge double bed, there was an antique wardrobe that had spider webs clinging to the top, never having seen a duster or vacuum cleaner in years.

 

Ruth had declared, “it's too high up and who knows what lurks there. In any case it's not my job to clean, just to look after Erika.” Much to Hirwin's irritation, he knew there was a need for a new cleaner and was determined that now Valery their old one had left, it was time to employ a new lady, as he most definitely wouldn't be cleaning cobwebs or dust away from anywhere.

 

On an old Victorian dressing table against one of the other walls there were Erika's personal belongings, like her silver antique mirror and brush, the soft bristles were fine, filled with grey hair that clung. Then there was the photo of her husband Broderick standing next to his sister Bruna against a backdrop of Christmas trees and mountains somewhere in Germany, their smiles seemed forced as they held hands.

 

Erika climbed into her big double bed and got settled, whilst Hirwin tucked her in. “Can I get you a horlicks that you so enjoy?” He asked yawning and desperate to get to his own bed.

 

“Yes, that would be nice son, make it milky, otherwise I'll never get to sleep,” she whispered, though Erika could barely keep her eyes open as Hirwin smiled saying, “coming right up.” He would make it in a small cup knowing she would probably be asleep before he got back.

 

Making his way downstairs, Hirwin checked the front door and was about to put the chain on when he remembered Ruth would be back later. As he turned to walk away and was just about to go to the kitchen, passing the cellar door he suddenly heard a rustling sound coming from the basement.

 

Hirwin stopped in his tracks, all thoughts of horlicks dissolved to the back of his mind. Now with the knowledge that it was just him and his mother alone, he had a suspicion that someone could have broken in by the basement door.

 

If thieves had entered they would get a shock, as many of his magic potions were dangerous if allowed to escape, or not handled with care. Proceeding with caution Hirwin quietly opened the cellar door and crept down stairs, the swishing sound getting fainter as he slowly approached.

 

To be continued...