The Ogham Keeper

The quartz stylus bit into her palm. Elowen traced invisible ogham across the parchment. Her breath fogged the air as she worked.

The door burst open. A gust of wind snuffed out her candle. Smoke from a torch stung her eyes.

"Stop." King Banadl’s voice was a blade. His boots echoed on the stone.

She scrambled to cover the parchment. The ogham characters blurred in her vision.

"Elowen." His grip tightened on her wrist. "Show me what you’ve written."

The stylus trembled in her hand. Her pulse roared in her ears.

"Your grandmother’s teaching?" He leaned closer. "The Wroxeter Stone?"

Her throat closed. The ink on the page felt like a curse.

Brother Caelum entered with a bundle of candles. His silver crucifix glinted in the dim light.

"Forgive me, Your Grace." He set down the candles. His thumb rubbed the crucifix.

Banadl’s eyes narrowed. "You know what this is, monk."

Caelum’s gaze met Elowen’s. A silent understanding passed between them.

"Leave us." Banadl’s voice was ice. "Now."

Caelum stepped back. His fingers tightened on the crucifix.

Elowen’s hands shook. The stylus slipped from her grip.

"Decipher it by dawn," Banadl growled. "Or you’ll burn as a witch."

The door slammed. Silence settled like a shroud.

Caelum knelt beside her. His voice was a whisper. "You’re not alone."

Her tears fell. The stylus lay broken on the floor.

"I don’t know what it says," she choked. "I’m afraid."

He reached for her hand. "Then let’s find out together."

The candlelight flickered. Shadows danced on the walls.

Outside, the wind howled. A storm was coming.

"Tell me what you see," Caelum said. "No fear. Just truth."

Elowen swallowed. The ogham on the page seemed to shift.

"Let’s begin," she said. "Before it’s too late."

Caelum nodded. The weight of the world seemed lighter.

"Good," he said. "I’ve been waiting for this moment."