All Things New: Chapter Thirty-Seven

Heh...heh...

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: LOSS

“Checkmate,” Artham said, moving his rook to in front of Esben’s bishop. “You’ve beaten me three times. How does this happen?” Esben asked.

Artham smiled. “It just does.”

He stood up and walked to the window across the room. “She did say one month, didn’t she?”

Esben nodded, a sigh slipping out from between his lips. “Yes. She did. One month. And it’s been two.”

Artham sighed, and he bit his knuckle. “I try not to worry. But I haven’t heard from her since that first month was up. It’s as if she just dropped off the face of the earth.”

“Don’t worry too much. Maybe she’s just having such a good time at her in-law’s that she forgot to write.”

“Not Emerald. She doesn’t forget things like that. It’s not her way.”

At the other end of the castle, the mail-carrier, Simbin, was walking towards Bonifer, who was standing outside the castle with a book in hand.

“Ah! Good morning my friend,” Bonifer said, walking forward.

“Mister Squoon. Got some letters for ya. One from Skree.”

“Ah. Perhaps it has something to do with Miss Emerald. Or the trade dispute. Either way, I’ll have to open it per the king’s instructions.”

“Ay sir?”

“He doesn’t like to read the mail.”

That gave both men a laugh, and Bonifer collected the letters and bid the good man who brought them goodbye. Once inside, he opened the one from Skree first. His eyes scanned the page, and his heart dropped as he read.

“Miss Emerald Wingfeather…dead?”

He was completely shocked, and grief filled his heart. He was close to tears as he stood staring at the letter. The truth was, he loved Emerald. The most. He didn’t care for the boys so much, they reminded him too much of Ortham, but Emerald? It shattered his heart. He had to tell them. It was his duty, and since he was still in this position, he didn’t have much of a choice.

“My lads,” he said, as he walked into the sitting room, where they had started another chess game.

“What is it Bonifer?” Esben asked without looking up.

“It’s your sister,” Bonifer said, his voice trembling. Both brothers looked up, hope in their eyes, and Bonifer almost hated to tell them. “She is…she is…”

“Is she sick? Hurt? Delayed in some way?” Artham asked, standing up from the table and walking towards the old man.

“No. She is not any of those things. She is…oh, forgive me for…for being blunt, but your sister…she’s gone.”

Artham’s face paled. Esben was up immediately, and he started asking a million questions amidst his tears. Artham was just quiet. Though his heart was destroyed.

Madia mourned for hours. The baby of the family was gone. Arundelle and Arthra tried to comfort her, but Arthra was the one that did most of the comforting. Arundelle was in grief as well. Arthra was sad, but she was too young to fully understand the fact that she would never see her aunt again. Her main concern was where her uncle and father were, but the two brothers needed time to be alone.

Esben went for long rides every day now, and he didn’t talk to anyone inside. He was not himself. Even when his parents had died, there was still a little bit of light in his eyes. And over the years, the light had grown and grown. But now? It was as if someone had blown out a candle all at once. There was no light in his eyes. It was all gone. And that added to the grief of Madia.

Artham, however, was different. He remained in his study. Alone. Where he just prayed. His heart of course mourned for his baby sister, but he also worried for what would become of his niece and nephew. The letter mentioned nothing of them. And so, many fervent prayers were sent up to the Maker in concern for them. And of course many tears of grief and guilt were spent on his sister.

One evening, Artham was standing at the window of his study, watching the rain pelt the window.

“Artham,” Esben said, a voice Artham hadn’t heard in days. He knew his brother needed his space, and while he kept his eye on him, he didn’t press him to speak about all that had happened.

“Yes?”

“Are we all that is left of Jru and Nala Wingfeather? Are we all grandmother has left?”

Artham turned to face his brother. “No. There is Arthra. And somewhere out there is Amarah and Wilden. We need to find them, brother.”

“How could this happen?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Esben plopped down at a table. “I wish it were all a bad dream.”

“Me too. But it’s not. And we must accept the fact that the Maker must have needed her in his home. That’s all we can do.”

Artham sat opposite his brother. He placed his hand on Esben’s shoulder. “I will always be here for you. I love you, little brother.”

Esben smiled at Artham. “I love you too, big brother.”

Esben hugged his brother tight. “I’m gonna need you more than ever now.”

Yep. She's uh, gone. Heh....