Author's note: The scene directly follows Scene 1. Yes there is a lack of character descriptions and it seems as if things are a bit complex. The very nature of this scene deals with the immense amount of back story that is being introduced. This scene is rather important and helps to establish Pencharmer's mindset. I have more listed in the guide, but since that is longer then this piece itself...on to the scene!
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The raspy voice of Constance replied to his mutterings, “Lord Pencharmer and Lady Victoria. Beautiful and simple, until her marriage.”
Pencharmer turned towards the old butler dressed entirely in a black suit, his voice soft and surreal, “Yes, marriage. Fleeting time.”
The two walked together down the halls of the large manor, walking down the white washed walls filled with beautiful paintings of windmills, castles and lake sides. Staring up at the modeling on the ceiling, Pencharmer sighed softly, “Constance--”
“Yes, sir?”
“How is our guest?”
“Fully recovered I imagine, but amnesia remains.”
Pencharmer sighed softly as he opened the heavy oak door to his study and he moved over to a table filled with leather bound books. The entire study was a scholar's dream, containing thousands of books on rows of cabinets up to the high ceiling. Drawing desks and tables littered the room as bundled up scrolls shot forth from the sides of the cabinets, over tables and even his desk. Flipping through an old dusty tome he read aloud, “Clashing to extinction the bastards of the Goddess annihilated each other until only humanity remained.”
Constance shook his head, “The ramblings of a madman no matter how detailed are still the ramblings of insanity. Entertaining yourself with legends is childish, sir.”
Closing the tome and throwing it to the floor, Pencharmer growled lowly, “Legends come from somewhere just as Avalon did. That name is not of commoner or royal blood.”
“Theft of a name--”
“Its one of their names. Despite his appearance--”
“Did the crystal react--” Constance stopped as a smirk spread across Pencharmer's face. “Your life is forfeit should it be revealed and with time it shall. Your father knew not to mess with their affairs, execution is the law.”
Pencharmer's smirk vanished instantly, “Even so I rather not outlive my daughter. Despite her blood a quiet life is better then no life at all. Sixteen years sure does fly, but it doesn't mean that I have not prepared for the day.”
Constance's eyes lit up as Pencharmer picked up a scroll on the table and said, “That pendant?”
“Why do you think witches exist? Love hides them from the world, right under the noses of their persecutors. Wanderers or hermits, they survive by not exposing themselves. Her mother--”
Constance sighed, “You are the one that never changes, sir. Just like your father before you.”
