The house was empty and cold, ready to be auctioned off.

No servants were left save one, who was tidying all that was left – the windowsills, the vacant dusty rooms, the drapes too old and worn to be used elsewhere...

Just few days, not even a week, since the devastating storm, and there was nothing left in Whiling for them anymore. No more honour, no more fine things, and soon, no more home. It was time to leave.

They all met up at the end of the drive; Father, Ed, Darcia, Devon – who had arrived last night from London – and James. Both Devon and James were clearly loathe about being here, but they dared not ignore a summons from Father.

Jar was not here – still out fighting wars wherever Britain directed him to. The entire family made a sombre picture. Wan faces save Father's glare, simple dark clothes, one small carriage and six tiny trunks in all.

Evelyn arrived last, unnoticed. Everyone else was too preoccupied. As there were no more footmen, and the carriage driver was currently attempting to teach James how to manage a coach, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Again.

Huffing and puffing, Evelyn somehow managed to hoist three trunks up. It was only when the fourth one nearly crushed her foot and she yelped in pain and surprise that her family noticed that she had joined them.

Immediately, Ed woke up from his anger-filled stupor and hurried to her.

"Here, let me help," he said, anxious yet gifting her with a tiny smile.

Evelyn replied with a smile, in accordance with her promise, yet inside she was...indifferent. There seemed to be no reason for a verbal reply. After all, Ed's smile did not reach his eyes, and he had not used his endearment for her. Something was strange – and it did not seem like something she would like. Dread began coursing through her again, and this time there was no distraction, no way to keep her mind off of fear regarding the future.

"Come on. It is time to get in the carriage," Father announced. Darcia went in first, picking up the hem of her plain black skirt. Then Father, James, Devon, and Evelyn thought Ed would go next, but he did not.

"Your turn," he said, gesturing for her to enter the already-crowded carriage. Evelyn stepped in silently, still wary of Ed, and he clambered in after her. They had already decided who was to drive the coach, and James had been chosen. Except he was now making clear that he would do no such thing.

With a sigh, Ed volunteered. He got out again, closed the squeaking door and took his place on the coachman's seat. Within minutes, they started moving, rattling out of the mansion's drive, passing the now-neglected grounds, and passing through the gate that marked the entrance.

The rest of her family looked out of the tiny window at the mansion that was quickly speeding out of sight. Evelyn was the only one who did not look back. Instead, her eyes remained firmly fixed on her jostling lap.

She had no true fond memories of that place, and the only ones she could think of was when Mother had been alive. Almost a lifetime ago, lost amidst the less bright and happy memories, the ones that still pricked even years later. They all said that Evelyn, the youngest, had been Mother's favourite. Evelyn did not believe that, and swore they only said so to insult her, guilt her about not being soft and nice and a proper lady.

She sighed, ignored the crushing weights of Devon and James who were squeezing her on either side, and shook herself of bitter thoughts. Now was not the time to go spiralling down that route, for there would be no coming back.

Needing something to occupy her mind, she looked away from her lap and out of the window. In order to reach what would be their new town, the carriage was forced to pass through their old one. From the window, Evelyn had a clear view of the streets and homes that quickly went out of sight as they drove on.

The devastation from the storm was extreme, so much that the townsfolk paid them no heed. No, they were more concerned with picking up the pieces and looking after themselves.

"What devastation," she whispered to herself, the words lost in the almost-unbearable clatter of the carriage.

Telegraph wires were down and tangled, tiles from roofs stripped off and listing trees bare of their branches. Rubbish was strewn through the streets, and the sky was dark and heavy.

Evelyn's heart went out to them, the poor, unfortunate people forced to clean up and rebuild. But even if her father had not been ruined, and them not forced to move, her pathetic attempts at help were never welcome.

They passed the entire day in that stuffy, crowded carriage with tattered seats and an odour of decay. There were no breaks in the monotonous rumbling and lurching of their transport. Soon, the clatter of hooves and wheels was all she heard.

A few hours after they had taken off, Evelyn dared to ask the question that had been nagging at her. "Where exactly are we to go to?" she said in a small, hoarse voice.

It was Devon who answered, and told her the name of their new home. Windport, on the British coast near Brittany.

After that she asked no questions, and kept in the ire slowly but surely building up. The four mind-numbing days they travelled she kept her silence, and the three nights they spent in dirty rundown inns she did not complain. While her stomach groaned and her throat was dry, she ate the dry bread rations and drank a minimum of the lukewarm water without speaking.

James and Devon cursed under their breaths. Darcia whimpered softly, rocking back and forth. Ed glared with fists tightened at his sides. Father muttered to himself. Yet Evelyn let all of her ice and coldness rise up, and stopped her tongue and prevented her face from showing any emotion. Especially the frustrated and angry and ungrateful kinds of emotion.

It was on the fourth night that they finally arrived, in the dark and cold. They passed a battered sign that said 'Welcome to Windport' illuminated by a crooked gaslight. Evelyn felt a bad omen thrum through her, but again, she kept all her thoughts to herself. They were not appreciated, nor were they helpful. No, best to keep quiet and try to make the best of things. Keep calm and carry on, as she had often heard say.

Ed, stalwart Ed who had also refused to complain, drove the carriage all the way to a rundown tavern, and opened the door for them after they had stopped. The tavern's sign was faded and lopsided, and she could not make out the writing.

Her legs cramped, she was starved and exhausted, and the dust and reek of travel made her skin crawl. All that she hoped for was food, a place to sleep, and a way to freshen up. It would be very, very nice if this tavern could provide that.

The rest of her family exited the carriage with groans and a few choice words, and they all but staggered forward. Evelyn stepped through the broken door last, grateful they had at least arrived.

She was scared of the future, absolutely terrified. Moreover, this Windport failed to inspire confidence or feelings of 'home.' There was nothing to be done about her fears, this she new. Perhaps now, despite everything, she could begin anew, and get some answers, and start living again.

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Hello everyone! :)

So, what do you think is going on with Ed? Any thoughts?

Vote and comment please!