"...Why?"

(...Those lines surely have a function; no-one would use that much metal on some decorative project.  And - hmm, she might well be able to sell her copper rings for something.)

"Strangers rarely come to this island. When they do, it's usually the buisness of the House. Yet the House stands abandoned for seven years. There is no Librarian at Brancrug, yet I receive a letter for them. And you come here the next day."

"..."

"I...see."

"I shall have to have a word with the place, then; it has been quite presumptuous, for all I've no better ideas for how to put my skills to use."

"You can't miss it." the Postmistress says, and turns to her work.

She'll just...read the letter, before she departs.  "Dare I ask, by the by, if it would be possible to reply to any such mysteriously-appearing letters in the manner they were received?"

Welcome

We are, in advance, sorry for potentially disturbing circumstances of your arrival at Brancrug. It is hard to find promising candidates now, and our method assured that a suitable person would read this letter, yet not much else.

We understand that you may be confused. Unfortunately, we cannot send a permanent representative to Brancrug, so you will have to rely on the locals. We will provice what financial assistance we can, though resources of the Trust are limited.

Let us know when you find your footing, and what other assistance we can provide.


Though much is taken, much abides.
- The Trustees

St. Rhonwen's Trust, University College, Singleton Abbey, Sketty, Swansea

"Write a reply, write an address, buy a stamp."

"I see.  Are there specific constraints as to the size or weight?  Or otherwise upon the form an acceptable message to post might take.  And how much for a stamp?"

"A penny for a letter like this. More for big or heavy things."

Inside the envelope there is also a piece of paper that appears to be currency. 'Ten shillings'.

"I see.  Well.  I shall have to buy a stamp, then."

She has some concerns.

"Also something to write a letter upon, I believe."

"But that is not particularly time-sensitive, and I imagine you've much to do of a morning.  I've other conversations I ought to have."

The Postmistress does not acknowledge any of those statements.

Ophelia finds herself vaguely concerned by this.

"Madam Postmistress?"

"Do you need anything from me?"

"There are things I believe I need, and things I want, and a deep uncertainty as to how much any of those are within your remit, let alone the matter of whether I dare bother you with them.  At the moment I do believe you are my best chance of finding writing supplies, though; I've ink, but I doubt you charge a penny to post scrolls, and I'm certain my quill will never be the same after my involuntary oceanic immersement."

"Post office is not a store. Someone in the village might help, and the House should still have its writing supplies."

She nods.  "Then I sha'n't bother you further; my thanks for your help."

She has the Rector(?) to inquire with - and then the house.

If she knocks on the Rectory's door, an older woman will open it.

"Hello. Who are you? What's your buisness?"

"Apparently, the new Librarian of the Hush House."  There is a wry, self-effacing twist to the declaration.  "Washed up in the storm last night, from far beyond where I ought to have been, and the barkeep said I ought to inquire here about orienting myself to local politics."

"Librarian, huh. Seven years. Always seven... Well, come in. I'm Terrance. Please, don't get Timothy in trouble with the New King, I'm not sure the village will survive another raid. I'll go get him."

"I would greatly prefer to not entangle myself with the affairs of Archons; I've had quite enough of that in my prior position.

"Always seven years?  That seems significant.  -- Always a Librarian?"

"Always seven everything, can't describe it, but you'll notice eventually." Terrence says, and invites her to sit in one of the rooms.

Eventually, a younger man comes in. "Hello! Hello, welcome, nice to meet you. I'm Timothy, Rector of Brancrug! Terrence, can you get us some tea? Do you want tea?"

"...Oh, I do not like that hypothetical omnipresence of sevens."  That reeks of deep and dangerous shit.  The sort of thing a lingering Edict causes, or who knows what else.  But then why a Henry the Ninth as King?  "It seems that if I am not going to the Archons, they will be coming to me.  Blast it.  I had hoped, for a moment, to be done."

(Rector Timothy can probably overhear that bit.)

"...Fatebinder Ophelia Vaudelle, recently acclaimed Librarian of Hush House by dint of mysteriously-arriving letter and the overall narrative bent of my arrival yesterday, what with the inclement weather.  ...I believe I'd appreciate whatever hospitality would permit, but please do not put yourself out on my account.  No matter my apparent position."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all" Terrence says, and goes, presumably, to make tea.

"Nice to meet you, miss Ophelia. The Trust finally picked a Librarian? Good. The House being abandoned isn't right. Did you know, it existed in some form for a thousand and a half years? Possibly more. Hasn't been empty ever since the Curia came, more than a hundred years ago. Archons?"

"You wouldn't recognize the term or the position, I expect; I'm near certain that my homeland is - presently unreachable by conventional means of travel.

"The Curia?  And, is it always a Librarian who is appointed?"