Intersernted

[Twiddle]

Hoot, hoot.
The sudden cry of an owl roused Twiddle from his sleep, the sound cutting through the silence of the cold night air. The exhausted house elf got to his feet with a start, reaching a hand out to steady himself on the old, stone brick walls of Lancaster House. The initial moment of waking disorientation cleared as he realised he had dozed off during his gardening duties, worked to the bone by his current mistress. The Lancasters were a harsher family than the Alicastells or the Summers he had served for so many years prior. There was rarely a moment where the small creature wasn't given a task to perform. Eustacia made sure he was constantly occupied. "The moment you stop being of use to me is the moment I make use of your head as a wall decoration. Now get out of my sight." She'd told him when her daughter had first transferred his service to the elderly witch.

Hoot, hoot.
The sound came again, causing Twiddles large, bat-like ears to twitch. He turned toward of the sound, bulbous eyes now clear and focused. An owl, with brown feathers flicked with white, sat on the window sill overhead, a small white envelope nestled between its sharp beak. The two made brief eye contact before the bird let the envelope flutter down toward the earth. Twiddle was quick to reach out, his thin fingers snatching the letter out of the air. The owl took flight, disappearing over the treeline as the house elves eyes scanned over the rough lettering etched into the back of the paper. It's addressed to Master Sern. Twiddle thought with surprise. The young man residing in the house never received mail, no matter how many times he'd sent letters out. But Twiddle knew that Eustacia would intercept them before they got too far. He was sworn never to mention it to him, however.

Clasping the mail tightly to his chest, pressed firmly against the dirty fabric of the rag he wore as a shirt, Twiddle hurried back into the house, careful not to trip over the Venomous Tentacula that grew so abundantly in the Lancaster Gardens. Sern was the kindest of the wizards and witches that the house elf was surrounded by, and the only person he knew from his previous servitude. Though he was sworn never to tell Sern that his letters were taken, that didn't mean he couldn't show him one. It was the first time anyone had wrote anything back to him in years.

As the house elves tiny feet pattered across the polished floorboards, he had a surge of hope that perhaps Sern would try and leave the house again and perhaps take the elf with him. He hoped Eustacia and the other residents were already fast asleep. Sern however had a tendency to stay up late in the night. One, two, three steps up the spiraling staircase in the main foyer. In a few seconds the creature reached the top step. Sern's room was at the end of the hall, he just had to-

"Oof!" A sudden pain caught him in the chest and he was thrown backwards through the air, the envelope slipping from his clammy grip.

 

[Blake Blackwell]

After a day of making his way through the forest surrounding the house he was staying as a guest at, Blake had retired to his room, Cold but tastefully decorated it looked as if no one had stayed there for years however there was no dust present. Blake had a few spare sets of clothes in the drawers but tonight he was dressed in a simple suit, He had come accustomed to dressing like a Man instead of a Mid twenty something year old, he was well into his thirty's now. Adjusting his tie he walked over to the window.

Casually resting against the cool window frame Blake looked out over the Garden from the guest room at Eustacia Lancaster's house, occasionally he would spend a few nights here assisting Eustacia with what ever she required. The over cast sky hid the moon from view but occasionally its light glow leaked through the clouds and some objects were visible in the garden below. Blake watched the House elf Twiddle kind of watering one plant for a solid minute and a half before rousing out of the doze he had slipped into, Blake shook his head, 'incompetent' he thought to himself as he watched the House Elf approach an owl which was sitting on a lower window hooting at it.

Blake kept an eye on the exchange, the moon slipped behind the clouds again but returned to reveal the expression on Twiddle's face, he seemed excited clutching a letter in his hands and made his way back to the house with haste. Cocking an eyebrow he listened out, the House was silent apart from the slight rustle of Sern rolling over in his sleep. Taking a deep breath he exhaled and heard the back door open and close with a click. Elves were excellent and moving swiftly and silently but Blake didn't like being snuck up on and could hear him pattering through the house and up the stairs. Taking large strides, Blake walked out of his room and through the open doorway to the top of the stair case, grasping the balustrade with his hands before thrusting his foot forward sole first and booting the little House Elf Square in his chest. Blake slowly lowered his foot and watched as the Elf sailed back, his little brown outfit fluttered violently in the wind as he flew through the air, his little bony arms too stunned to do anything to stop himself from colliding with the solid wall with a heavy thud before collapsing into a heap on the floor.
Adjusting his suit sleeves he made his way down five stairs to collect a little white letter off the floor. Blake pulled the pocket handkerchief from his suit and used it to pick up the envelope on the step. 'What have we here?' he said softly as he looked over the paper.
'Sern has a letter now, I'm sure you're aware little elf that all letters go past Eustacia or myself' he made a point of wiping the letter down before tucking his handkerchief back into his suit pocket 'You remember why now don't you. Little Elf.' he asked not waiting for an answer as he turned over the letter he noticed the return address 'Dark Wizards have a habit of sending Tricks in mail, and we don't want poor Sern getting harmed now do we?' Blake wasn't interested in anything the Elf had to say to answer for himself. Frankly he didn't even bother to check if the Elf was alive after the Boot to the chest, but he felt the need in case he was listening to put him in his place. 'I suggest you don't speak a word of this to Eustacia or Sern, you don't want them finding out you failed, I'm being kind in letting this one pass. Learn from your Mistakes.' he ended as he turned and made his way past the Elf and down the stairs to Eustacia's office.

Dim light was leaking under the bottom of the door, Blake rapped the solid wood with his knuckles before opening the door and slipping into the room letting the door click softly behind him. 'Special Delivery' he said with a half smile on his face.

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Despite how late into the night it was, Eustacia was sat behind her office desk under the light of small, floating lanterns, suspended in the air as if hanging from unseen strings. In one hand she carelessly held an illuminated glass of red wine, whilst the other hand was occupied by a long, ash-grey quill, the nib carefully scratching across the surface of a sheet of parchment. The night had been quiet and still so far, the only sound coming from a grandfather clock that ticked softly at the other side of the necromancer's office, and the only movement resulting from the flickering flames contained within the glass lanterns overhead. Eustacia enjoyed one of these rare moments she had to herself.

It came as no surprise however, when a brief, faint scurrying sound broke the silence of the house, shortly followed by a loud thud and soft whimper. With an irritated sigh, Eustacia placed down her quill and sat back in the comfort of her armchair; plush, velvet and regal, it matched the decor that filled the rest of her old home. The Lancaster House had been in the family since the Dark Ages and still held on to its medieval feel, despite multiple renovations over the years.

The Necromancer swirled her glass of wine absently, one finger tracing its rim as she listened to the commotion in the main foyer, a few barely audible words followed by footsteps outside her door. What fool believes it is a good idea to disturb me at this hour? she asked herself, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip as whomever was on the other side of the door finally knocked. Eustacia set down the glass to the side of her desk and went to call for the stranger to come in, but before she could, and to her further irritation, the door was immediately opened. The dark witch pursed her lips, an unimpressed look etched upon her face as Blake strode in. The wizard was becoming far too comfortable in her home.

"Good evening, Blackwell." Eustacia said in a tone that conveyed how she felt about his intrusion. Her eyes focused on the envelope in his hand. "And what do we have here?" she enquired, standing from her seat and gesturing for the wizard to approach.

 

[Blake Blackwell]

Floating lanterns were in his Direct view once he entered the room, Blake sighed and lightly pushed one out of the way so he could walk forward. Eustacia seemed disturbed but it didn't bother Blake, he did what ever she required, she would often approach him with her needs so he would respond the same. 'Good Evening Ms Lancaster' he responded whilst studying her as she examined the envelope Blake took a seat across from Eustacia 'If i'm not Mistake and I have my facts correct, A certain Father is still trying to contact his Son'

Blake felt the heat of another floating Lantern drift towards him and he swiped at it causing it to bobble off in another direction, he really hated those things but Eustacia was one for Magical items. 'Little Elf however was trying to sneak that one past us, what are the chances that Master Sern has received a letter from his father already?' he didn't mean to question Eustacia he wanted his facts straight, in his spare time Blake was care taker to Sern, keeping him occupied 'The little lad has been asking quite a few Question's lately, I was under the impression he thought this place was out of owl's reach'

The entire situation was something Blake knew about but didn't agree with, Eustacia's Grandson, kept in the house with little to no contact unless regulated was strange but he understood why Eustacia was doing it, he just wasn't sure Sern knew why

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

The Necromancer took the envelope from the wizard's hand as he approached, turning from him and walking toward the large arched window that framed the back wall and removing the letter as she did so. She ignored Blackwell's comments as her dark eyes scanned through its contents, nails tracing along the black inked lettering as she read.

The letter was a lengthy apology, the father of her grandchildren, Alex Summers, writing to express his regret over abandoning his sons. The emotion in his written words amused her greatly, knowing that he'd put so much effort and raw feeling into this sheet of parchment that his son would never get to read. The woman smiled, folding the letter once more and replacing it in its envelope, discarding both into the top drawer of her desk. She returned her attention back to the man still present, batting at one of her levitating lanterns. "If Sern had received one of these already, I think we'd know about it, don't you?" Eustacia challenged, walking back toward her chair and looking down upon the seated wizard. "Though I do admit I believed everyone had given up trying to contact him by now. It's been well over a decade. Trust this mudblood filth to complicate things." she hissed in disgust, wishing she'd killed Sern's father while she had the chance. "And no, he didn't think this place was out of owl's reach. I don't know where you drew that conclusion. I merely convinced him that no one cared that he was gone enough to bother writing back."

 

[Blake Blackwell]

Watching the woman read the contents of the letter Blake was curious as to what it would say, he would have thought someone who knew a Dark Witch was after him would be more secretive, Why risk it now to send a letter? Once Eustacia was finished the letter he watched her put it in the top drawer of her desk. Blake tapped the arms of the chair. 'I Believe Sern may have some form of skill in the art of deception, being your Grandson and all' he said bluntly, sometimes he wasn't sure if Eustacia knew he was intelligent or just thought of him as a mindless pet. Blake crossed his arms 'He's in his Late 20's and all, he can't be as naieve as he was at 15.' he added.

Listening to the woman show her distaste for the boys father, he felt a part of him twinge, his father was a Wizard and his mother a muggle who he had still yet to meet since she was alive somewhere, from what he knew she didn't want anything to do with any of her children, she despised the magical community, kind of like a reverse Eustacia, maybe that was a reason Blake was drawn to Eustacia, he enjoyed her company. 'I don't know what lies you spun to convince him why he wasn't getting any owls from his family or friends, I don't even know why he decided to come with you in the first place. The boy seems clueless to the fact that part of his life has been controlled around him, he lacks curiosity and its quite disturbing' Blake uncrossed his arms and stood up, walking towards some of the items in the office 'The fact that he lacks Curiosity is what concerns me, he should wonder about something by now, if not he may know something and I am not dealing with that, not my family, not my problem.'

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Eustacia looked at her companion blankly for a minute as he expressed his concern over Sern's "possible skill" in the art of deception, before bursting into laughter that conveyed a heavy, patronizing amusement. The laugh quickly trailed off and died out as Blake folded his arms. "Oh, oh my. You're serious." She shook her head, a smile still on her face. The witch took a moment to produce her bottle of wine from a cabinet on the right side of her desk, topping up her near-empty glass She was going to need a lot more of it with the way this conversation was going. Taking another sip, she replaced the glass on the desk's surface and collected herself.

As Blackwell continued with his thoughts, Eustacia returned to her seat and lounged comfortably, listening. She thought it ridiculous that Blake was fretting over her grandson and an insult that he question her. The man seemed to be oblivious to the resources she had, or exactly how much the magical world had to offer. She was well aware that Blake had spent his childhood being raised by Muggles, which was one of the mans biggest flaws, but would have thought that 22 years of adjusting to the wizarding world was plenty of time. Then again, he never did attend a school.

"Not your direct family anyway." Eustacia commented offhandedly as Blake finally finished. She sat up in her chair, folding one leg across the other and intertwining her fingers as she rested her elbows on the desk. "I think you underestimate me, Blackwell. Not that it would have been too difficult to manipulate Sern as I did. He was a lost, angry teenaged boy who needed guidance. I offered that to him, a chance to become someone better. Everyone around him excelled where he was failing, his friends, his family. His brother was a prefect at the school they attended and both his brother and cousin were training to become animagi. He was nothing. It didn't take much to convince him to study under my tutelage, nor was it that difficult to make him believe that no one cared enough to contact him when he was gone. He was already in a poor frame of mind, I just pushed it along." The woman explained briefly, grey eyes watching the wizard as he wandered around her office. "As he grew older and started thinking for himself, I just needed to work a little magic. I've had over half a century of knowledge and experience at my disposal, Blake. Don't forget that. It only took a few spells and potions throughout the years to keep him complacent. This is the life he's grown used to."

The Necromancer took another drink and sat back once more, rubbing her temples with a sigh. "If you really believe he's had contact with anyone undesirable, especially his family, you're more than welcome to interrogate him, procure some veritaserum. But I've raised my grandson for twelve years. I know Sern. you have no reason to fret."

 

[Blake Blackwell]

Blake didn't mention anything when Eustacia decided not to offer him a glass of wine when she was refilling up hers. He raised an eyebrow at the remark about not his direct family, he paused for a moment trying to figure out if it was a comment directed towards him or a reflection on herself, he didn't have time to think about it into too much depth before Eustacia continued with the topic. She seemed to doubt the facts that Blake was trying to offer to her, Sern had been asking more often to go out when Eustacia wasn't around and since he needed someone to Apparate him places Blake's assistance was required. 'I'm not Doubting you Mrs Lancaster, I'm conveying the fact that he has been asking very strange questions as of late, now it may be due to his boredom or wanting to see his child, but he did do that before now when you were around' he paused for a moment and walked towards a Shrunken head that was on display on the shelf and lifted it up with slight curiosity 'Now however, as soon as you leave to go somewhere he will ask me to take him places, sometimes he will come into my room at some stupid hour in the morning like he has a plan and want to go places. If you didn't raise him, I could swear he didn't know how to Knock.' he added. Blake held the shrunken head by its wispy hairs and spun it so it spun around in circles and back before putting it back in its place and cringing his nose, he didn't want to know who's head it was.

Blake turned around and walked over to a shelf and picked up a Letter opener by the handle and swung it through the air like an arc, it had a very decorative handle which he examined closely 'Currently, I won't question him right now because with the arrival of the Letter from his Father it would be best that he doesn't get suspicious' Blake raised the Letter opener towards the lantern to examine the blade, it was a rather sharp letter opener, the muggle ones he see's had a blunt blade however this one was like a miniature sword, Blake then began to wonder if it was a Magical Sword shrunk down. 'I'd like to take a look at these potion recipe's however, what you used to keep Sern Complacent, he is oblivious to so many things, he doesn't notice that only a select few come through these doors, or that there are no Broom's on this property, it's like things he should notices have been blurred out. Rather ingenious.'

 

[Sern Summers]

What of the young Ariana? Was it possible that she, perhaps, was the first to die for 'the greater good'? It was when-
A commotion outside disturbed Sern from his book, the pattering of small feet and a thump with a force that could have almost shaken the house broke through his immersion and he blinked, only now aware that his eyes were starting to ache. Having lost his place amongst the lines of text and realising he was in need of a break, the wizard bent the corner of the last page he was on and threw aside his copy of The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore. It had been the fourth time, or maybe the fifth? That he'd read through the biography. There was little else for him to do at night and the old wizard's story made him feel like he could escape his dreary life, if only for a short time.

Swinging his legs to the side of his bed, Sern got to his feet and wandered across the room, brushing his fingers through the feathers of his closest friend, a young raven he'd named Edgar after the muggle poet, before continuing toward the door and pulling it slowly open. He was curious, as any noise was odd at this time of the night, to see what exactly had caused it. His bare feet padded across the floorboards as he moved, knowing exactly which boards would creak and have to be avoided, and which were safe after all these years of wandering the old house. He reached the top of the staircase leading down towards the ground floor and peered over the banister. Slumped against the wall a few feet below him was the house elf he'd grown up with, gasping and bent at odd angles. "Twiddle?" Sern whispered, hastily descending the staircase. With a cautious glance to the sides he approached the small creature, getting on one knee to examine the damage.

The House-Elf appeared to be struggling to take breaths, but managed to sit itself up, one leg twisted around horribly. It wiped away the blood that was gushing from its nose. "M-master Sern." the house elf stammered, voice rough and hoarse. "Twiddle, are you okay? What happened to you? Did-" he started, but was cut off as the house elf shook its head and raised a small frail hand, pointing towards a slightly ajar door at the far end of the foyer. "G-go." Twiddle croaked, as Sern turned his head to follow the direction the creature pointed at. The open door lead into Eustacia's study. Why would he want him to go in there? "Er, hold on. We'll get you patched up first-" Sern stopped mid sentence as a faint pop alerted him that the elf had managed to disapparate, leaving the wizard alone. Confused, but with nothing else to go on, Sern rose and, a little hesitantly, shuffled over towards the study doors. A thin stream of light trickled through, painting a golden line across the otherwise dark floor. It was uncommon that his grandmother leave the door open, whether she were inside or out. The study door was generally closed and uninviting. Not a peep ever came from inside, which he was sure was due to a sound-proofing charm. However, with the door as it was, Sern could hear a faint stream of words from inside.

Currently, I won't question him right now, because with the arrival of the letter from his father, it would be best that he doesn't get suspicious.
Blake's voice Sern could instantly recognise. Who's father did he mean? The wizard heard his name mentioned. Recipes? Obliviousness? Not a bit of it was making any sense to him. As he listened, he could feel a headache coming on, this time not related to straining his eyes. What on earth were they talking about?

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Eustacia frowned as she listened to Blake talk, eyes following his steps around the room while he idly toyed with her possessions. She arched her eyebrows disapprovingly as the wizard spun a shrunken head. "Do you mind? If you damage anything it'll be your head that's sized down next." she muttered, though it was obvious by her tone that her threat wasn't a serious one. Besides, she was sure that Blake's head was full of nothing but air. "Unless Sern wants to go anywhere specific, I don't believe it's at all odd. He's displayed this shift in behaviour multiple times prior to your employment here. It comes and goes, he has periods where he's less content with being bound by the property and surrounding areas and is more likely to want to go out. With my presence, I'd say he feels more...restricted. That is why he is more inclined to want to travel once I'm gone." the witch explained. Perhaps now Blake would see why she wasn't stressing over the situation. He had such a minuscule amount of experience, yet acted as if he were so much more knowledgeable.

The Necromancer took another drink and set the glass down once more, as Blake mentioned he wouldn't question her grandson. By this point the wizard had picked up a small, sharp letter opener. Eustacia's glance darted from the objects glintering silver blade to Blackwell's face, a slightly amused expression on her face. The item was a cursed one, which once belonged to a paranoid witch who believed her mail was being stolen. If you user managed to even slightly nick something with its sharp end, they'd instead cause a deep gash in their own flesh. The man was so oblivious to the enchanted items in her home that it was a genuine surprise that he hadn't managed to harm himself yet. The woman held out her gloved hand. "I'd suggest you be more careful with what you touch, do hand it over before you hurt yourself. As for recipes and the like, perhaps I'll share some of my secrets with you in future. Perhaps."

 

[Blake Blackwell]

Click Here and Continue

Blake raised his broad shoulders in a submissive shrug 'If you Insist' he muttered, he wasn't convinced that Sern's actions were normal, but she was correct, he hadn't been here long enough to know a pattern with Sern.
Blake caught Eustacia's glare and raised his eyebrow, she requested he give her the letter opener and he did without questioning 'Maybe you shouldn't have sharp objects just lying around the house, that Stupid Elf may cut himself and drip blood everywhere' Blake looked around the room wondering if there was anything else that could possibly be dangerous and could cause harm to himself or anyone else.

Blake Exhaled 'Anyway Why are you up this late anyway, I don't keep track of your whereabouts but it seems rather late for you to be up unless it is important.'

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Eustacia took the small blade and deposited in the desk's top drawer, resting it atop the letter from Alexander. She slowly pushed it shut once more and folded her hands across the desk, eyes locking onto Blake's. "Perhaps you should keep your opinions about what I have, or don't have in my own home to yourself. At least the elf knows better than to put his hands all over my possessions." she responded simply, her voice completely neutral. The witch then quickly drained her glass. This man was so difficult to tolerate at the best of times, she wondered why she even bothered. But he seemed infatuated with her and had become a useful tool. It was just a matter of how long it was until he ran out of use.

Getting to her feet once more, the Necromancer filed her parchment to one side while Blackwell questioned why she was up as late as she was. Merlin, he needed to know every little thing. "Everything I do is important. Tonight, however," she said, producing three silver rings, decorated in the center with a thin line of colour. "I'm preparing to see an old friend in Spain, to celebrate some additions to his family." she finished, dropping each ring into a small silk bag. The friend in particular was an Ater, a man she was familiar with in her days as a Death Eater. She absently curled her fingertips, drawn to the faint scar on her wrist as she recalled their younger days, where her dark mark was once quite evident. How things had changed in what felt like such a short time.

 

[Blake Blackwell]

His eyebrow cocked at the mention of an old friend, The only people who Blake knew were Eustacia's "Old Friends" were normally Dark and Powerful Witches or Wizards. He studied the Silver rings which Eustacia brought to view, he didn't have a chance to inspect them in great detail before she placed them into a small silk bag. 'Am I required to attend this event with you?' he asked, he often assisted Eustacia on her travels meeting with people and learning the in and outs of the Necromancers.

Blake brushed his hand along the back of the chair across from Eustacia's desk before sitting down on the cushion, he swatted another floating lamp away. 'Or am I required to keep an eye on the boy?' he added. Blake Disliked watching the boy sometimes, especially when Eustacia went on long trips Blake couldn't really leave as it was his job to make sure Sern didn't harm himself and to keep him occupied, everything short of wiping the kids bottom for him.

 

[Eustacia Lancaster]

Though Eustacia's tolerance of Blake had been wearing progressively thin during their conversation, she briefly considered whether or not to let him accompany her to the Ater gathering. While she had known the family for decades, the necromancer didn't trust them completely, especially when it came to the younger generations. Few of her own grandchildren had turned out as she deemed ideal and it wouldn't have surprised her if the case was the same for Acwel, or if he himself planned against her. She'd been betrayed more than once in the past by fellow practitioners of the dark arts, people she'd considered close friends in her youth. She was a more cautious woman, and with her experience she was perfectly capable of defending herself in any event, but perhaps having her apprentice present would prove useful.

"Don't act as if keeping an eye on Sern is the most difficult thing in the world. You can, however, attend this gathering if you'd prefer it, on the condition that you talk as little as possible." Eustacia finally said after giving the idea some thought. She drew the strings to the silk pouch and it tightened, its opening sealing shut. Pocketing it, she strode towards the door. It wasn't until she reached out to turn the handle did she realise the door was slightly ajar, suppressing her silencing enchantments. She was too careful to make that sort of mistake herself. The woman turned on her heel, lips a thin line as she returned her attention to Blackwell, eyes narrowed. He had to be the most incompetent person she'd taken on. "I should not have to explain this to you more than once. These doors must always, always be closed, Blake. Consider yourself lucky we don't have any guests at the house tonight. Don't let this happen again." With that she left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

 

[Blake Blackwell]

Sometimes Blake really wanted to put Eustacia in her place, she always had a sense that she was higher and better than he was, she didn't know what type of Family he came from, he could have very sought after bloodlines, but since he didn't know either he just followed along with what she asked, besides she was the woman who found his mother. Blake nodded sharply 'I'd gladly accompany you to this event' he said his voice had a slight touch of smart ass to it. Blake stood as Eustacia did, and adjusted his shirt before following her as she headed towards the door, she stopped and turned to him just as he ducked behind her to push open the door, she scolded Blake for not closing the door behind him and he just looked at her while swiftly moving his hand to push the door open for her to walk out. Blake let her walk out and the door shut behind her letting it click close so she heard that it was shut this time, he took a deep breath regaining his nerves. The amount of times Sern waltz into his room with a door closed or Sern left doors open and yet he got scolded for it made him want to punch a wall but he didn't.

Blake collected himself and reached for the door handle, and walking out. He nudged the door closed with his foot behind him and walked towards the front door, collecting his jacket from a stand he put it on and opened the front door again making sure the door closed behind him and with a wave of his hand the door locked. The Wizard made his way out of the boundary line to where Eustacia was waiting for him and probably ready to scold him again for wasting her time putting on a jacket. 'The Front Door is locked, where are we headed.'

 

[Sern Summers]

Sern sat cross-legged outside the door to the study, one ear so close to the small shaft of light emanating from inside that he was a little worried he might be seen. To his disappointment, the two inside seemed to move off of the subject that had initially piqued his interest. Instead, it sounded like Blake was becoming a nuisance to Eustacia, as per usual. He wouldn't have been surprised if the wizard was suddenly blasted through the doorway by the elderly witches magic. Sern of all people knew how quickly her patience could wear thin when it came to particular people.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Sern quickly scrambled aside, ducking into another room as his grandmother's shadow blocked out the light. She paused to scold Blackwell, giving Sern time to shut the door behind him, the sound of it clicking into place drowned out by her commanding tone. He stood quietly in the dark room with his back to the wall, listening. After a few minutes, the sound of the front closing signaled that the two had left. With a sigh of relief, Sern pushed himself from the wall and slowly exited the room, tip-toeing down the main foyer until he reached one of the large windows that decorated the face of the house. He peered through the side of a gap in the curtains, eyes following the silhouetted figures as they traveled down the driveway and toward the road, before disappearing one after the other.

Alone, the wizard quickly turned back around, curiously approaching the study that he'd eavesdropped outside only minutes ago. Blake had mentioned something about a letter and his father, though it was hard for him to really piece together exactly what was going on. He peered around the room, hoping that perhaps they'd left the letter behind instead of taking it with them. His fingertips ran across bookshelves, collecting dust as he wandered around the study, coming to an eventual stop at Eustacia's desk. He reached cautiously down, finger looping into the ring of the top drawer, but a creak from upstairs startled him and he jumped back, heart racing at the thought of being caught rummaging through the older witches things.

No more noise came and after a moment he calmed down, reminding himself that the house was old. He reached for the drawer again and pulled it open. There, gently pushed towards the back sat a white envelope with a silver blade resting on top. He reached for both, carefully removing them and holding the two items up. A letter, and quite conveniently, a letter opener. The wizard didn't really see the point to them, as ripping open the envelope was just as easy. Despite that, he turned the silver blade, its point resting against the envelopes papery surface. Though it had been well over a decade, he could recognise his dads handwriting. It was strange, he realised that not once had he thought about most of his family since he'd gone to live with his grandmother. He knew he should have, and he was aware that they were still around and presumably alive and well, but it was as if his mind prevented thoughts about them creeping in. Well...time to see what dad has to say after all these years. He thought, his heartbeat speeding up. He jabbed into the letter with the blade and sliced across its top.

Immediately, blood gushed from Sern's leg as a near bone-deep gash appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The deep, painful slice ran up from his ankle to his knee in the same moment he used the letter-opener and he cried out, clutching at his leg uselessly while the dark object clattered to the floor. The envelope didn't show any signs of being cut itself. Gritting his teeth and biting back the howls of pain, the wizard lumbered toward the door and out of the room, struggling to make his way toward the far side of the house. The more he moved, the greater the pain he experienced, but he finally made it to a large closet, throwing open its door to reveal rows of potions and equipment along its shelves. Hobbling inside, he pushed bottles and cauldrons aside, looking for anything he thought would help, but his knowledge of potions, or healing for that matter, was almost non-existent. The use of vials of magical liquid hadn't taken his interest as he grew up. Frantically he grabbed for a rolled up sheet of fabric and clumsily tore it apart with the little strength he had left, bandaging the wound as best he could. The blood in his leg seeped through, blossoming against the white cloth and expanding until after what felt like forever, the flow slowed until it reached a standstill. Sern let out a breath, resting his head back as he slumped to the floor. I've really messed up this time He thought, and let his tired eyes shut as sleep overtook him.