Havenwood, NY

When he was roused that morning by his motherly neighbor, Mrs. Seward, who had taken it upon herself to be his housekeeper slash caregiver "because someone has to do it, Mr. Collins," it was not with the expectation of having tea later that day with the wife of one of Havenwood's wealthy merchants. In fact, Declan expected to have no visitors at all since he'd all but cut himself off from the community save for the few stubborn friends that visited him once a week or so. Mostly, however, it was due to being the middle of winter with heavy snow on the ground, making travel difficult. Because of such difficulties, Mrs. Seward was staying with him for the week while her husband was in Manhattan conducting business.

The morning was spent in routine as he assisted the older woman in tidying up the townhouse. Perhaps it was because Declan was now alone or perhaps it was because she did not have a set of her own, Mrs. Seward always insisted on using the silver for their meals. When he asked why one day, he could hear movement in what he figured out was a shrug and she gave a rather practical reply.

"Well… it just seems like a waste to let it just sit there to gather dust and tarnish." After that, Declan didn't have the heart to argue and it was usually his assignment to clean the set when Mrs. Seward said it needed cleaning. It was not a particularly large one that had been inherited by a previous wife at the time and somehow remained within his care. While the task could be tedious, Declan rather enjoyed it as it gave him the opportunity to reminisce over the fond memories they invoked. As he worked at the long bench table in the kitchen, the space and rest of the house became increasingly pungent with the smell of cooking stew. By mid-day, based on the sunlight he could feel on his back, he was ravenous.

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Declan had found early on in his rather long life that a routine helped combat the feeling of hopelessness that sometimes plagued him; When the years and years ahead of him became too much. When he could concentrate on the next step and ask himself, What next?, life tended to be a bit more bearable until he got out of his slump. That Monday morning, however, would prove to be a dreary one judging from the blissful sound of rain assaulting his windows. Most would take the weather as an unpleasant sign, but Declan loved the sound—the feel—of the rain.

Loaf Around, the local coffee and pastry shop, was right across the street to The Nameless Page so he was hardly soaked by the rain but there was enough falling from the sky that when he crossed the threshold with a spring in his step, Declan had to shake some of it from his coat. Hearing footsteps, the witch side-stepped out of the way as he took a moment to assess his surroundings. With the rain creating white noise in the background, helping to filter the day-to-day sounds from outside, Declan could hear the routine sounds better inside.

He could hear the clatter of baking sheets being stacked in the kitchen despite the door being closed; He could smell the dough as it was worked and molded into what would be delicious creations for the afternoon crowd; He could smell and taste the salt in the air along the sugar from the cane that was used or the various berries for jams and filling. The smell of coffee beans was ever present, underlying, and pungent; A coffee lovers dream. Laughter toward the back, where you ordered, told him the usual morning staff were present. A smile curved his mouth; In all, it was a typical morning and with a swing of his cane, Declan moved toward the counter to order his usual.

It had started Wednesday when renovations in the store and flat next door began. In hindsight (ha!), Declan should've known things would get progressively worse as the solstice drew closer, but more often than not the more attention you gave a spirit the more power you gave them. At least, that had been his experience. Things were always different here in Havenwood. Perhaps it was the leylines, perhaps it was the fact that the town sat near a faerie portal. Who really knew? What started out as harmless cold spots, wall scratching, and lights flickering had progressed to object displacement and then object throwing as of that afternoon when Declan had jumped into action.

He had been playfully flirting with Ms. Lautari in the shop as they were returning items to the shelves when he sensed a book careening toward them. Declan grabbed Prudence, narrowly avoiding the book but the two had crashed into the nearest bookcase as a result, disturbing it's contents; A small cauldron toppled off the top shelf, using Declan's head to cushion its fall. Suffice it to say, it appeared as if the witch would need stitches after the gifted woman had cleaned the gash on his head so off the two went to Havenwood General.

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