'Have you found anything of interest, brother Rin?' asked Siel, making his way to where Arin stood.
'At first glance, these don't seem to be of much importance; correspondences, deals, everyday responsibilities the man was dealing with a month ago, before falling asleep,' answered Arin, still flipping through the pages.
'Hmm…' Siel rummaged through the desk, then turned to scan along the shelves. 'I must admit, everything else seems to be much the same as what I'd seen within the dream. I suppose there really isn't much for us to find here…'
'Not so fast, Siel,' said Arin, still skimming through the last of what looked like some unopened letters, from just around the time the whole village had fallen asleep.
The headman probably hadn't gotten around to reading any of them. That made sense, of course; they'd been told of how the man had spent his last few days awake running himself ragged, looking for a cure for not only his mysteriously unawakening daughter, but also the other residents of his estate, who seemed to be dropping into the same state one-by-one.
Information about some untimely rainfall in the south… Plans for changes in some trade route… Response from some healer from some city, in rejection of his invitations…
Greetings from Willowshade…
Bingo!
Arin flattened the letter onto the surface of the desk, laying bare all its contents.
'What's that?' asked Siel, coming over to stand beside him.
'A message from the old maid – madam Seren. From Willowshade.'
'She did tell us of sir Grif having contacted her in desperation at some point,' commented Siel, 'to ask whether she might be able to shed some light on lady Elara's matter. Perhaps this is the response she'd sent?' The younger tower magician lowered his head to also take a look.
In all honesty, Arin didn't really care to believe any of the words that had come out of that old woman's mouth. Not when she'd already lied to them once, about having only had limited contact with the estate after leaving for Willowshade. Not when she hadn't even mentioned her husband still worked for Silvershade's head family.
Who knew what other information she'd withheld, and more importantly, why she'd hidden anything at all.
He didn't say anything to Siel, though. Instead, he skimmed over the generic greetings and wishes for good health at the top, and started reading the main part of the letter.
'The dear swan had fallen, weakened from the pain of the loss of its soul. The cygnet soon followed, with no carer left to feed it. But the birds that keep their wits about them, may yet carry on, and the young water lily needn't be plucked from the waters before its time.'
…
…
…huh.
He lifted his head slightly to look at Siel, who was frowning lightly again. The boy caught his eye, and shrugged. 'It appears that madam Seren, for some strange reason, had written to the headman to share an excerpt from her… poem, is it? Perhaps a new venture…?'
Arin huffed softly. 'Then I'm afraid she has no future in the path of her choice,' he said. 'But no, Siel, we've seen this strange manner of writing before. Vague statements about insignificant matters, meant to relay something more – '
'The young lady's letter in the dream!' exclaimed the wide-eyed boy. 'Madam Seren watched over her in her childhood. She may have taught it to her, or they may have come up with it together – perhaps even as some small, delightful game, that even sir Grif was aware of, or – '
'Yes, so look here,' interrupted Arin. ''The dear swan had fallen…' hmm…'
'Could 'swan' be referring to lady Elara?' offered Siel. 'To how she'd been wrecked by the loss of her mother, lady Elina – the 'loss of its soul'?'
Arin shook his head. 'I believe the 'young water lily' – near the end of the passage – is meant to be about lady Elara. But if that is indeed the case, the words that follow would mean – '
'That the young lady needn't be killed,' said Siel, frowning even deeper now. 'But for them to even be discussing the possibility of her being killed… Could sir Grif and madam Seren have known of lady Elara's distortion all along? Could they have been covering things up, in an effort to protect her?' He looked up at Arin with his wide eyes.
Arin bit his lip, deep in thought. 'But I cannot imagine why sir Grif would choose to do nothing besides simply waiting for the distortion to worsen,' he mused. 'Even if his intention was to protect his daughter from certain death – even at the cost of everyone else's lives – he must've known that it would eventually affect him as well. And once he also fell asleep, there would be no one left to cover things up. Someone would eventually come to deal with Silvershade, and the final result would still be the death of his daughter…'
'Let us put that aside for a moment,' he continued. 'Going back to the 'swan', I wonder if it refers to madam Seren's husband; the head caretaker at the estate. He was the first to fall asleep after Elara, and was followed soon after by the sickly elder in his care – Elara's grandmother. 'The cygnet… with no carer left to feed it'…'
'So, in the earlier days of the distortion, both proximity and a weak constitution might have made one more susceptible to being drawn in by it,' said Siel. 'That would explain why some people fell asleep first, before the distortion gained strength. But what of the '…pain of the loss of its soul.' What could have affected the head caretaker so? What do you think, brother Rin?'
'I think… we must go pay the old maid another visit soon,' answered Arin in a grim voice.