Steele Family/History
After Medium's court, which had proven to once again be less efficient than he had hoped, he returned to his personal library to study a book of administration he had learned from in the past. It's been long since he had last had it open, years ago, and he blew a thick coating of dust from the book as he took it from the shelf. Studies of Administration - How to please the crowd, the cover was marked. Medium went to his desk and sat down, opened the book and started reading. He still had many hours left today, no unit to maintain, please or pay, and Celia was at the tournament as well, so there was rest and calmness.
As the hours passed, Medium was bothered only a few times, once by a female servant offering him coffee and cookies, which he exchanged for scotch eventually, another time by the same servant who said the diner was served, which he ordered to be delayed, and a third time by a Celtic servant who came to bring him a letter, which he quickly read and then put aside to go on with studying. Hours passed by while he sat there reading in the light solely coming from a candle on the desk. After what he thought to be an entire day, he stretched his arm and leaned backwards on his chair, yawning mightly. When he opened his eyes again after the yawn, his sight was turned to the upper shelf full of books in front of him. As he tilted his head to the left, he read the backs of the books, as a kind of a relaxation between the studying. Modern warfare, he read, Forges and Anvils, The Scimitar, Kiteshields, Steele, ... He was moving his eyes to the next book, but his mind stayed at that last book. That didn't belong there, did it? One would think that if it handled about the material, that at least on the back of the book it would mark Steel properly and not Steele, wouldn't it?
Medium stood up and brought the ladder to the shelf, after which he climbed it to look closer at the book. He took it out and climbed down the ladder again, but while he was climbing down, he noticed that something had fell out of it. He looked at the book and noticed a cordon was wrapped around the book as some kind of seal, but by time it had come looser, and whatever had been put between the pages had fallen out. He continued his way down and picked up an old, blackened letter, and studied it. The ink had been fading due to the inpure air high up there, near the ceiling, and the letter was hard to read, so Medium went to his desk to hold it in better light, and started reading.
To the nobles of the Steele Family and its offspring, I have put this letter in our family's history book, which I have received from my father, as a message to you later. It is an important notice to you, one that should restore some of the dishonour done to our family because of discapability on the part of official instances. I will tell you the story of my father, Fearghus Steele, current head of the family, a story he has told me many years ago. Many years ago, when my father was still a young boy, he did not live here in Darka yet, but in a land far away from here. It was a rich land, wealthy and prosperous, along with his family and friended families. King Baro, their ruler, was a good King, and many looked up at him, including my father. Why wouldn't he? King Baro maintained peace on the lands and brought wealth to the lands. All one could do was praise King Baro for that. The Celts were a brave folk, but they did not enjoy their families and lands suffering from warfare, so they were pleased with the peace. But one day, things changed. My father had only just turned eighteen, when he was sitting on the cliff near the beach and saw a small boat, far away from the coast. He kept staring at the boat, as it came closer, and after time, he noticed that there was a familiar flag hanging on the mast. Fomorians, ack. If there was one thing my father hated above all, it was King Fremur of the Fomorians. Not that the opinion of one man mattered, but then again it was not just his opinion. All Celts hated Fremur. He was a cruel King who lived in a poor land over the ocean, and his record in the Celtish lands was abominable. King Fremur was incredibly jealous at the wealth of King Baro's lands, and had already undertaken multiple attempts to invade the Celtish lands, but every time the brave Celts had fought the cowardish Fomorians over the ocean. My father ran down the cliff to warn the Celts for the arrival of yet another Fomorian boat, and the Celts took their armour and gathered at the coasts, yet they were surprised to see only one boat, and from where they stood, they could only see one figure in it. As it came closer, King Baro stepped forward, seeing the figure was a woman, and helped her out. One could see he was stunned by the woman's beauty, and asked for her name. She introduced herself as Medb, and sai...
The words were getting harder to read, and some lines he could not read anymore. A little lower, he could understand what was written again.
...Queen Medb and how she had brought division among the Celts. King Fremur had free entrance in the lands. He invaded the lands and started plundering, and few Celts could escape. My father could. He traveled all the way to Atamara and established in Darka. One of the first days, he was asked to register himself in the records, something unusual to him, yet he went to fulfill his new duty. There was only a thing about my father that needs to be known: he stuttered. When he arrived at the town hall of Tolhuar, he was asked to say his name. "t-St-tee-le" he said. The word was spoken, the circumstances did the rest. Circumstances such as the stuttering of my father, his Celtish accent which made some sounds seem different, and a clerk who had already been wirting down names of immigrants all day and was becoming tired. Result: our family was registered as T-style, a despicable name compared to what it should've been...
Medium could hardly believe what he was reading, his eyes widened and he took a moment to breath heavily. Then he read on.
My father was not asked to spell the name, nor could he see what the clerk wrote down, so he thought it would be fine, so he went home. About a week later, my father told me, he received a letter announcing his succesful registration under, to his rage, this false name. He immediately went back to the town hall, demanding the name to be changed, but the clerks refused, saying it could not be changed anymore. My father was very angry at first, but controlled himself and went home, noticing there was nothing to do about it. And so our family is now known as the t-style Family. My father told me the faimy history when I turned eighteen. Now that I am a fairly old man, married without children because my wife has turned out to be unable to get children, I have accepted the fact that I will be without offspring. Therefore I write this letter, so that later the offspring of my brother Graham may find it and know the history of our family. Good luck in your further life, my cousins and grandcousins. Baro Steele Post scriptum: indeed, I was named after the King of Celts, I have noticed as well.
Medium laid down the letter, his eyes still very wide, and looked on the other side of the paper to see if nothing was written there. There wasn't. He gentilly laid down the letter and slowly turned some pages of the book. He quickly closed it again, it was too much to handle now. He put the letter back under the cover and the cordon around the book again, and walked outside to get some fresh air in the evening. He still couldn't believe what he had just read. After some minutes, he was called inside for the dinner. Medium turned around and nodded at the servant, but then put up his hand. "No, wait a little longer, I'm not done yet." He quickly ran back inside the library, and took his pen and a piece of paper to write a letter. He had to inform King Seamus about this. He wrote about his findings, his handwriting seemingly worse than usual because of his shaking hand. When he was done, he nodded. The shaky handwriting will add up to the information to ensure the reader that I am serious. He sealed the letter and called back the Celtish messenger who had stayed over for a drink, and told him to deliver it to the King. The messenger said goodbye to Medium's niece and set off, while Medium finally went to dinner, but he didn't eat anything...
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