Season of the Scion - 27 - 1327 AE
The lush green lands of Claypool were vast, hilled and seemed to stretch forever past the small lake that separates the town and much of the crop land. I felt overwhelmed for a few moments as I seen much of the fields and crops growing in their designated areas. I knew that there was no chance for me until spring to see the fruits of my labor and those who would be employed to this project. The fall harvest would be upon the land soon and the first signs of spring would have to be my due date. It was a ways off yet but undoubtedly, there would be much to do between now and then.
I stared at the blueprints and detailed sketches of the lands for quite some time before deciding on ideal plots I would possibly purchase. I made note of the ideal locations. Vincent had offered me to lease the estate and I agreed to his terms to see this project through. A personal dream of mine that I feel is directing me on a proper course, something right and meaningful.
Sigrid and Rhune had come to visit me that evening and while it was nice to catch up with them, the friendly conversation had damped once we all started discussing a few shared woes. Rhune had been in Claypool as he and his men took rest before embarking in the morning and Sigrid came by to visit. She had been curious of my well being. Such a sweet woman and a close friend of mine — I was completely happy there in that moment. For once in a long while I felt as if though I was in trusted company. Old friends as well as new.
My dreams are about to flourish and it will be possible by my drive and the helping hand of friends and acquaintances. Needless to say, I’m very excited. I will be making a difference anywhere I can.
Next, I plan to visit the orphanage in the Salma district before making my way back to the Gendarren estate.
Othello turned around with a rattle of polished bell and meandered back toward her twin, stopping just at her shoulder to peer down at the photo nestled within her slender fingers.
Othello piped up, her tone laced with a thin stream of laughter. The black and white photo was of them, its corners tawny and tapered from lack of care but the image was crystalline clear. Depicted within the image were six year old Othello and Hale Cress, their tiny youthful frames wrapped up in the season’s summer like attire—-striped swimsuits that carried a ruffled heart shaped flare at the belly.
Youngster Hale lifted a bucket of water over her head, its contents spilling over its tipped edge while adolescent Othello’s face melded into a scrunched, yet joyful, expression with the anticipation of the water edging closer to her head.
“I remember that summer well, actually. It’s amazing how memories bubble back with visual aid.”
Hale’s mantle was met by the soft press of Othello’s talon cased fingers, a squeeze to follow.
“Perhaps you and I should go for a dip later, hm?” Othello tapped a pointed finger at the image, “I seem to owe you one.~”
Linneia paused a moment.
Why in Six name the hosts at the party felt the need to have a miniature garden made entirely of spun sugar, she still couldn’t say.
But as Linneia watched part of one of the flowers shatter when Hale touched it, she couldn’t help but sigh. “I think… they wanted you to eat it anyway.” With that, the tiny noble walked forward and plucked off a sugary leaf, popping it in her mouth. her lips curve into a smile. “.. oh, no. definately. They flavored the sugar. And I think there are some roses missing.”
Her smile widens. “They should have said something, really, but! It’s kind of cute as an idea.”
" Are you in danger Hale? If so, say the word and all that I have is yours. I will make sure you are not without guardsmen at your side to fortify your safety.
" No, I don’t believe I am in danger. You owe me nothing.”