A Gundam Wing Fanfiction: Secrets of Sir Godrick (Part4)

Der Compass Von Noh Vier!

Fairy Tales are like Four Leaf Clovers...

...Just because you've never found one doesn't mean they don't exist. ^_~

...Godrick's dream come true.. =D ...as Iznick just goes: "I said NOT a FAIRY! Keep those butterfly wings away from me sketch-lady!" ^_~ I'll sneak em in...

Godrick had taken his crutch back from Iznick; insisting on making his own way now that they had a clear and wide path leading them to the Castle Noh Vier – Its red-tile topped spires looming ahead seemed a fantastical flare of color against the bleached landscape.

"Do you think they will have a line for us to contact Luxembourg? Or would it be better if we get back to the Alliance Academy on our own and explained things personally?" Iznick wondered aloud.

"Not a clue... to be honest; think about it? We've just come across a castle, far out in the Carpathian wilds, after being chased by wolves and then saved by the spiritual manifestation of my ancestors. What are the chances that anyone still LIVES here? Personally, if we are NOT met by a grounds keeper or servant whose been employed for an indeterminable amount of time, and introduces themselves as 'Igor', I shall be sorely disappointed!"

Iznick gave Godrick a sly and thoughtful look,

"Your mood has certainly picked up. So... I guess I won't argue the facts that; we were hardly chased, meaning there was nothing for these spirit beasts to save us from; and for all your fretting there could be an entire metropolis less then 10 miles from here and we'd be none the wiser! I think there is more to this... like, why Igor? Why not... Alonzo?"

"Alonzo? Have you not read ANY Transylvanian classics? Far too 'pretty', it always is the gimp-legged-hunchback leper who answers the gate and their name HAS to be Igor!" Godrick ended with a flourished toss of his head.

"I always wanted to have a manservant named Alonzo..." Iznick mused making Godrick laugh.

Soon enough the road drew near to what was looking more and more like an unoccupied dwelling standing as a massive monument to the past with its disintegrated and over grown outer walls.

"Hold." Godrick stopped short and pulled Iznick back from taking another step forwards, "Look, there used to be a gate here..." Indeed there were two iron-crown topped stone columns on either side of the road.

"So?" The significance of the ruined structure was lost to Iznick giving Godrick cause to give an exasperated sigh.

"A castle's entrance is NOT at its front door. It is at the 'threshold' and to cross it unbidden? Well... at that point you are a trespasser and at the owner's mercy. If you clear the snow there is probably a seal here saying as much. In Fairy Tales you need to pay attention to the specifics or else you'll meet a very bad end."

"Oh, I see..." Iznick chuckled, "...one problem. This isn't a Fairy Tale, Godrick, and from the looks of it? Your right, no one has been home for centuries. We'll probably go in, find the least drafty room and make another camp tonight. Maybe stay awhile and let your leg get better before we move on. Besides, even if someone were home," he threw his hands wide, "How do we knock when there is no door, or bell pull?"

Godrick thought about it looking about them at the snow covered mound that had been a gatehouse; he frowned knitting his elegant brow together looking up at the high spires once more – he could hear the wind whistling past them,

"You don't knock...hand me your bottle." Iznick fumbled with his pack a moment before he handed the duct taped vodka container over. Godrick took a quick swig from it before he pursed his lips and blew across its top unleashing three long mournful tones in succession – silence fell after they passed from the air.

"This is redicu..." Iznick hadn't even finished the word before, in the distance, the heavy wooden doors to the inner wall were pulled open from the inside and a lone rider galloped across the distance towards them.

"See? Now, whatever you do: Do not tell them we're lost."

"Why? You never struck me as the type who'd be too embarrassed to ask for directions." Iznick grinned.

"It's not about that, just play along. The number one rule in Fairy Tales is to always be expected somewhere."

"What good is that?"

Godrick just looked at Iznick with his own grin,

"It's not as if the witch in the Candy Cottage would have tried to eat Hansel and Gretel if she knew their parents would come looking for them. At that point they really were on their own."

"I thought their parents do find them in the end?" Iznick was trying his best to remember the vague images from his past.

"...Not in the original story."

The horsemen finally reached them and reared his steed to a stop. He was not a hunchback nor did he seem to suffer from flesh eating illnesses (that they could tell), [...or Bath salts XD]

"I... am Ig'Oriött. I have served the master of 'Many Boar' Castle for many years...". His features were dark and sharp, goatee distinguished, his black hair kept long and allowed to flow freely about his shoulders and he was dressed in... well fairy tale fashion: with riding boots, tight brown leather pants and a black and green tunic with a heavy boar skin cloak.

None the less, Iznick was impressed enough and cut him off before he could speak further,

"Perfect! We have come to the right place! I was afraid my companion here would become too disappointed to accept your kind hospitality!" He clapped a hand on Godrick's shoulder nearly knocking him over.

"I was... unaware that I had offered any. I would ask whom you are but... we do not take visitors or unannounced guests here. Though..." Ig'Oriött's eyes narrowed as he regarded Godrick, "Would you be sent by... Lord Kushina'treyya?"

The two boys looked at each other, Godrick's eyes popped when he suddenly made the connection and faked a coughing fit to play off his surprise,

"What would bring you to that conclusion?"

Ig'Oriött let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes in exasperation,

"We do not care if Trëyuv is marrying his thirteenth bride. Why he insists on sending messenger after messenger here imploring our master to send his blessings, I do not know. It is not our business to bless such unions. If that is why you were sent then return with that message... again."

"We weren't sent..." Godrick glanced to Iznick, "We were...on our way there, but seem to have gotten turned around in the storm. I'm a cousin of Lord Trëyuv's."

Ig'Oriött narrowed his eyes suspicious of the story as he took their green uniforms and Godrick's makeshift crutch into account,

"Is that so...? From where have you come then? Lord Trëyuv's castle is some distance from here, any fool with a compass would be able to find their way there easily. Here, on the other hand..." He trailed off shaking his head slowly. "...not so easy."

Godrick laughed nervously hoping he didn't go too far,

"Ah, well you see... I took a bit of a fall. My compass got smashed," he rummaged shortly before producing the ruined heirloom and held it up by it's fine silver chain for Ig'Oriött to examine, "Do you think you might have one to lend us? Or perhaps some sort of guide to get us going in the right direction?"

Ig'Oriött leaned down and reached out a leather gloved hand to catch the swinging object, a strange look came over his face as he scanned the shattered face of the piece of ancient metal-craft. His eyes went wide and he caught his breath when he shifted the piece over in his hand revealing the delicate relief of a rose surrounded by a thorny wreath.

"You're name wouldn't happen to be Godrick, by chance, would it?"

Godrick shifted nervously unsure if he should be honest or not,

"It might be..."

Ig'Oriött pulled the chain from Godrick's hand and tucked the ruined compass into a hidden pocket on his tunic and sat up straight on his horse,

"The master will wish to see this at once... come." He wheeled his mount around and took off back through the snow the way he had come.

"Should we follow?" Iznick looked a little confused by the man's abruptness, and how he could possibly have known Godrick's name.

"Do you think? He has my compass!"

"Its broken. We don't need it." He shrugged Godrick's horrified look off and started towards the castle.

Upon being shown into the main hall by an elderly maid, The Master and Ig'Oriött were already waiting to receive them – the compass lay on a velvet cushion on the alter-like table before the high-backed lord's chair.

The Master himself looked shriveled with papery skin clinging to his boney form and sparse white wiry hair covering his skull. The fine cloth of his robes were worn and frayed, but his most noticeable feature would be the red cloth blindfold tied around his head. When he spoke his voice was as wheezing, frail and cracked as one would expect from someone who looked closer to a hundred centuries rather then a hundred years old,

"When I did place this piece...of my best craftsmanship...into Lord Trieze's hand those many, many, many...years ago. I made him promise me two things... One; That if he found the eternal peace he sought with his brother, he would privy me with its secret... Two..." The man rose to his feet nearly instantaneously transformed as his voice suddenly re-found its strength, "...that he would NEVER let it fall into GODRICK'S KEEPING! FOR PRECISELY THIS REASON!" The Master's fist slammed down onto the stone table next to the broken compass sending a shudder of vibration that could be felt underfoot.

…Even through the blindfold the two boys could feel his sightless gaze burning into them.