I awoke from my first night at Berwycke Hall not quite knowing where I was at first. I stared at the ceiling for a while before I realized I had woken up. The halls were tranquil and quiet, not a sound save for the chirp of a nestling outside. The windows shut, and to my observation had been since my arrival. Miss Leynham had told me that there were others in the house, a brother and sister in fact, with more soon to come. But they were complete strangers to me at the time. I was mindful of this last fact. As far as I could remember I always preferred my own company at the best of times and being at the abode of somebody else's erupted that age-old instinct that I had, to walk on eggshells and to disturb as little as possible. Something along the lines of the old saying Doing Unto Others. I extremely disliked it when others intruded into my abode without my express invitation and shall do the same for my erstwhile hosts.

After a quick drench with the lavatories supply of water and a washcloth, I changed my shirt from my meager belongings. I would have to resupply my dwindling number of fresh clothes. Which meant tapping into my allocated stipend for the month. With my morning routine done, I was prepared to tackle the day ahead.

I could not help myself but did a perfunctory tour of the house, mindful of my steps for the both of them may very well be asleep at that hour. Berwycke Hall was a manor to be sure but it was a modest one. I counted at least ten rooms with doors I did not open out of modesty, with at least seven of them being bedrooms. It was quite spacious and sported another garden on the back along with a veranda. Each room had its own small balcony that I observed, having one of my own. My own room was easily five times the size of what I had growing up back home. I took notice of several key notes as I made my short tour of the house, signs of it having lived in. Various books scattered about where they should have no business of being. A pair of gloves tossed in a corner of a chair in the living room, a mug or two lain about in one windowsill and another in the table outside. The place was tidy, make no mistake, but here and there lay about the signs of habitation. It was quiet in that morning but there was a lingering warmth to the hall that only can be caused by the living that called it home. I did not explore the purported third floor but I did find the door leading up to it.

It was thirty past six in the morning when I left Berwycke Hall with naught a single sign of the supposed siblings Helewis and Hervey. Maybe they were late sleepers?

Lonethorn at the early morning was a tranquil place. The midspring air painted the land in deep and dark-green undertones. The winds were cold but not harsh. The soliloquy of nature humble and not hinting of some malign undercurrent. Birds fleeted from one copse of trees to the next. Pine trees were extremely predominant where the large swathe of open grass lawns not present. The mountain's fog was thick and yet softer and fleeting. Odd, I thought. Much of it reminds me of home. Similar but not the same. The staff were already in full swing by then, mowing the grass to an acceptable height.

I truly appreciated the distance afforded away from the humdrum of city life and industry. A smile slowly lifted on my lips but wavered as an important detail brushed to the forefront of my mind.

It was not ideal however. Both Saville and Spencer were not in campus grounds. There were matters to discuss and business to conduct that needed their presence. The last time we spoke was during the final preparations for my application into the University. I spent the most time with Spencer during that period of reviews and lessons. I remember a discussion we had when I had just passed with favorable marks on the last write-up with the gruff historian when instructions were laid out.

"Oh we have so much new research to conduct! Our expedition into Sorez really did wonders not just for the field but society as a whole! We have to rethink of what we know of the histories!" Saville declared giddily. When he gets like that he tends to talk to himself more than me and Spencer. He gets some of his best ideas like that. Saville was the more younger of the two and the one who is in touch more with the younger generation. While Spencer was not only far older but much shorter as well. What the man lacked in height he made for mass, like the brawny dockworkers that hauled cargoes all day long. He never once stated and I never once bothered to ask but I think he is just a bit older than my uncle Arnao. He was built like a bear, Spencer is. With hair forearms that rival that of a blacksmith. Saville once said that at one point in Spencer's life he had worked as a stonemason.

"Boy," he said in that bearish growl of a voice of his, "Should you arrive at the university before us, there are tasks that needed to be done, saves us the trouble for when we arrive and before the semester starts." He made an emphasis by jutting the sausage-like finger of his in my direction. He reminded me of my uncle and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes whenever he assigns me a task.

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"Fine, fine. Best put it in a list so I can get it done," I leaned my head back, letting it rest on the top rail. My head felt like it was struck by twenty pounds of book, which was not that far-off a claim as we had been reviewing for days on end.

"Oh and another thing," he had something in his grasp and had it reached out for me to take. I peered down to get a better look at it. It was a key.

The very same key that I held as I asked around the University to get to the College of History and Antiquity. I asked a custodian performing landscaping where the College was located in campus and directed me to the very top of the peake. Or close to it at least. As a means of traversing the trek up (and indeed it was a trek) he pointed me as well to the most direct route rather than the roundabout way (of which would have been far more lenient on my knees but would accost me too much time.)

Higher I went and as I did so I had not thought the illusory effect of heightened elevation would cause. It took me about ten minutes to traverse the distance but by then my calves burned as I've climbed six flights of stairs. The College was on the other side of campus, opposite of Berwycke Hall. By the time I reached the top, a sheen of sweat had formed on my back and temple and my blood almost simmering with the effort. It felt good then. The air on the peake was clean and fresh and reinvigorating.

The domineering forms of both the Abbey and Castle Lonethorn were much more discernible now, quite a literal stone's throw. The College of History and Antiquity was officially attached to that of the Castle, all disciplines concerning Humanities and Arts were made so. A gargantuan and impressive structure of reddish-brown brick and mortar, the College of History and Antiquity covered the expanse of six outlying buildings and holds territory with two spires of the Castle itself with each building is adjoined by a pedway for faster and easier traversal.

I entered the building and was greeted with stretching hallways and rooms, my steps reverberating in echoes as they are empty of students in this time of year. Or so I thought I first. I passed by halls great and small, which I had thought of them bare but it seems that a handful of the student population have stayed the term. A professor was discussing in one while in other rooms another professor were merely sitting watching a sparse few students in scattered seating bent down and scribbling on notes. Mostly sophomores, juniors and seniors, the remnants of the previous terms either staying for remedial classes or having a private study with their applied teacher. I moved on, impressed with the dedication of some of Lonethorn's studious elite.

Try I did to locate the offices of Saville and Spencer but the layout of the vast hallways proved detrimental. And I had not yet had my morning fast. I thought it would be a simple twist and drop; get my bearings of the place, check the state of their office, grab a bite to eat and return with renewed vigor to tackle the tasks ahead. I completely underestimated Lonethorn's mountainous terrain and immense architecture of its facilities to drain my reserve of energy.

I thrice passed by a group of young women that were seating at a benched alcove, signs pointing that my sense of direction had gone awry. My stomach grumbled noiselessly, thank heavens.

"Are you lost ser?" asked one with short yellow hair that came to her jawline.

"So it seems miss." I said in tired gasps. I could have used a hefty serving of fish and chips but the Uplands were much farther inland and had proved quite scarce of my favorite snack growing up. The efforts of the morning had made me an unsightly thing, drenched in sweat, a rivulet of which matted my hair. I reflexively combed it out with my fingers but instantly regretted it. I would have to wash myself once I get back to my room. And that would be another hike in and of itself. "Pray can you help me?" I asked the three young women.

One of the girls giggled. All I did was ask politely. The other jerked her elbow and the girl stopped giggling but did nothing to dissuade the dimpled smile in her lips. "Of course, tis no trouble. Where are you heading?" the girl at the center of the trio, one with soft strawberry-red hair tied in a ponytail spoke. I handed her a scratch of paper Spencer had scrawled into. The girl at the foremost, the one aiding me in locating Saville and Spencer's office raised an auburn brow. Was there something peculiar? I thought.

She replied, "Take the stairs to the left, then take two right turns for the next interceding hallways. The professors' office are at the very end." I nodded my thanks. Before I turned, she added a final note. "I haven't seen you here before. Are you a new student?"

"Yes and thank you kindly for the assistance. Good day miss." I said and went on my way.

"Uhm...right then. You're welcome ser," she called out just as I took the stairs to the next floor. I caught a glimpse of them huddling and giggling amongst themselves just as I rounded the corner.

I dare not look back, did not try guess at what game they are playing. Young women have the capacity to be playfully cruel without meaning to. I learned that the hard way.