Return to White River

     "Mail for you, Mayor!"

     "Ah, Nellie. Any guess as to what it could be?"

     "One is postmarked Haunted Woods, the other is from...Skarl’s Court?"

     "Very well. Thank you Nellie."

     Portia hummed to herself as she grabbed the steel letter opener from within her desk. The letters had travelled far, and she was excited to learn about the contents within. The Haunted Woods was distant, at least three days by Uni back. Castletown, where Skarl’s castle and court were located was easily a half a day away…assuming one was not waylaid by thieves or bandits.

     She opened the missive from the king first, and hummed in appreciation. “Approval for an electric lamp for the lighthouse. Finally, the oaf sees a bit of reason.” She muttered. She’d have to talk to Val about supplies for the renovation later. Adjusting her glasses, she then opened the envelope for the second letter and began to read.

     Dear Portia,

     I received your letter inquiring about Charrie's whereabouts and was relieved to see that there was someone besides myself who was worried about him. My brother has always been tight-lipped about his feelings, for fear of making those he cares about concerned. It's one of those qualities that has always annoyed both Phoebe and myself.

     I am unsure what caused his flight from White River that has him standing on my doorstep now. But I do know from previous correspondence that he was happy. He wrote often of how he loved the town, and everyone in it. And his recent letters have been filled to the brim with your praises.

     My brother has his secrets, as we all do. He often struggles to share himself with others, I think due to having to protect the both of us sisters. But if there is one person I think who can break his barriers, it'd be you. I encourage you to keep trying to make some headway. And of course, if he needs to be sent back to me to be straightened out, don't hesitate to shove him my direction.

     Regards,

     Helene Riddle

     Portia smiled, dropping the letter on the desk lightly. Although she had been giving Charrie his space, Helene's letter was of some encouragement. Perhaps it was time to see if she could get under the hatmaker's stoic brim....

     -----

     Her chance came sooner than she expected, while walking through town in the late morning sun. She spotted Enid outside of her shop, full of clothes. The Snot Ixi was dressed for the task, wearing a short tartan patterned skirt, and an old shirt while her legs stirred and shifted the solution in her wooden tub.

     "Remind me why you do this process by hand again?" Portia asked, barely containing her grin.

     "Because, it's not the same when you get that cheaply made industrial baabaa wool! They use all of those harsh chemicals to get out the grease and it ruins the cloth! Best do it the old way, same as me mum taught! It comes out softer than a cloud on a warm summer's day."

     "And how many more hours do you have to do this swishing about with your legs?"

     "About two or three more. At least these chemicals I'm using aren't as foul smelling as some of the older methods used. That is one area in which I am fine with being a bit modern." Enid replied, a slight chuckle in her voice.

     "So we have two more hours of hearing her fine South Meridell voice singing in public." Charrie added, walking up behind Portia.

     "Don't you dare make fun of my waulking songs, now Charrie Riddle, or you might just end up yerself in one!"

     “Oh I wouldn’t dare make fun of you Enid.” Charrie replied, his eye twinkling.

     “Mr. Riddle, if you don’t mind I’d like to talk to you about some important business, you know, regarding the town.”

     “Ah, yes Madam Mayor, I’m happy to assist.”

     “Do you mind taking a jaunt up to the lighthouse while we discuss these matters?”

     “I suppose my legs could do with some exercise, yes. Enid’s inspired me.” Charrie said.

     “Ach! Get out of ‘ere you two!” Enid said, shaking her head as they departed.

     Portia spent the first part of the walk explaining about the new project Skarl had approved, and getting Charrie’s advice on how to replace the old oil lamp in the lighthouse with a new electric system. They both went together to examine the current lamp and system, and Charrie suggested a few possible ways to stretch the town’s budget further. Eventually, the two Ixi ended up leaning against the railing at the top of the lighthouse, the wind ruffling their hair as they stared out at the ocean below.

     “I…believe I owe you a bit of an apology.” Portia began, letting the words hang between them.

     “Y-you do? Why? If anything I owe you an apology for leaving.” Charrie replied, flabbergasted.

     Portia smirked, then let out a sigh.

     “I have always prided myself on my restraint, and it was wrong of me to swing at you. Regardless of how…angry I was. It was not appropriate. You have a right to keep things to yourself, just as much as I do. And…regardless of how much we have gotten to know each other, I should not expect you to tell me everything.”

     The silence hung between them for a second, the only sound being the wind and the waves.

     “There’s no need to apologize, Portia. I understand why you felt the way you did.”

     “But it wasn’t okay, Charrie. I…I understand having things you keep from others. Things you don’t want to admit to. Like….”

     Portia removed her felt hat, hanging her head.

     “I blame myself, Charrie. For Alexi’s demise. I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

     Charrie let his hand rest for a second on Portia’s shoulder, offering her his silent support.

     “We were out practising manoeuvres on the edge of the Taiga, just outside of a small village, called Poterya. There is a large river that cuts through Ursus, called the Mokraya. In the winter, it ices over, and normally it can be crossed on foot.”

     “You said he fell through the ice. That doesn’t sound like something you can be blamed for, Portia.”

     “But I can be blamed for the fact that the only reason he was out on that ice is because we had argued.”

     She turned, facing away from the railing. She rubbed her arms idly, as if she still felt the cold. “Alexi always had a bit of stubbornness about him. It’s one of the reasons we were such good friends. But normally he knew when I couldn’t be swayed and backed down. We had a disagreement over if the river was safe to cross over. The other option would have put us behind by at least two days’ march. Alexi insisted that the ice was safe, and that we needed to get back to the capital as soon as possible. I told him it was not worth the risk to the men, and I expected he would agree with me.”

     “Let me guess, he didn’t? And then he decided to prove it?” Charrie asked.

     Portia nodded. “He stomped over to the ice, and was halfway across before he fell in. We tried to fish him out but…”

     “It was too late?”

     “Da. All that was left was the coat from his uniform. I’ve blamed myself ever since. If I hadn’t argued. If I’d taken a moment to tell us both to cool off and think things through…”

     “Portia. You were right. The ice was dangerous. If you had both stopped the fight, you all might have travelled that ice together. And then what would have happened? You wouldn’t be standing here, alive and well. You all could have fallen through.”

     She sighed, then turned towards Charrie. He opened his arms and she rushed into them, tears rolling down her cheeks. She could feel him rubbing her back, offering her words of comfort as she mourned her friend.

     “A-after that I left U-ursus. I couldn’t t-trust myself to lead. I came here to get away.” She said, her breath hitching between words.

     “I know it’s selfish of me, but…I am glad you came here, Portia. I think I can speak for everyone in Town when I say that we are grateful for your leadership…and for your friendship both.”

     She sniffled, then looked up towards him. “T-thanks Charrie. I’m sorry again for swinging at you.”

     “If it makes you feel any better, mayor, I really did deserve it. But don’t worry. I won’t be leaving White River for a while. I’ve missed home.”

     —---

     Meanwhile…in Ursus…

     Vanka Voronin hummed idly to herself as she wiped at one of the many wooden surfaces in the late Lord Provoskia’s study. She tried to air it out as often as she could, but with the old house being unused and drafty, she was fighting a losing battle more often than not. Her day was almost over, and she planned to retire to her own quarters once this room was finished.

     She heard a sound behind her, and whirled around, her heart racing with panic. Nobody was supposed to be here this late.

     “Hello Vanka.”

     “Oh. Ivan. You scared me. What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”

     The Yurble chuckled, crossing his arms. “You forget. I delivered messages to Portia’s father all the time when I was a mere grunt in the Ursian Army Intelligence Branch. I know all the ways into this house. Some even Portia doesn’t know about.”

     “What do you need Ivan? Surely there must be a reason you are here this late.”

     The Yurble sighed. “Vanka, I know you miss Portia. I do too. But you cannot be sending her letters in White River. It is imperative that she NOT return to Ursus.”

     The Xweetok gave a humph of displeasure and answered rapidly.

     “Ivan! I know that she is happy there. I am not stupid, da? But surely Lady Porti could visit. Her father’s estate still needs to be dealt with. If she’s not going to live here, she needs to sell the grounds and the house and move on. I am old, Ivan. It is time I retired to my own little cottage and spend the rest of my days resting. I care too much about Porti to let the house fall to ruin, but…she needs to come home and take care of things.”

     Ivan shook his head. “No Vanka. She cannot come home. Not now. Perhaps not ever. I am not sure. It is for her own good. There are important reasons why Portia cannot come back to Ursus.”

     “And what reasons are those? What could keep her from coming back even for a short visit?” Vanka shot back.

     “Because if she does, the same people that were going after Alexi will go after her.” A new voice answered as a figure stepped from the shadows behind Ivan.

     “I-it’s you.” Vanka gasped.

     The End.

     Author’s Note: You’ll eventually get to figure out why Portia can’t go back to Ursus. I promise. But until then, you’ll hear a bit about some other residents of the town. Speaking of, if you want more info about White River, check out /~Residents!