The first day of winter had walked in with a confident, bold grace, a stoic mother to tuck sweet autumn in for rest. There were times that Anais longed for the vivid hues, the brilliance of floral blooms. There were times she dreamt of the sanctuary of soft earthen browns and the flicker of fireside flame. But as she watched the thick snowfall from her window, casting a fresh, pure blanket of white over the usual grey drab that was Vel Anir, she felt her soul breathe.
It would be tonight, whilst the streets were quiet and the city slumbered, that she'd leave this life behind her. Her beloved pearly friesian had been made ready some hours ago, and she waited until her house fell to rest before making her way silently outside. The heavy oak door closed with a soft click behind her, her fingertips tracing over a small carving of the letter 'A' she'd made in the varnished wood when she was too little to know any better, and she sighed, her breath a pale plume against the numbing air. She had grown up within these walls, and yet there would not be a day that would pass that she would miss anything about it. There was no fondness, and she could not stay and endure another moment of the lamentable life her parents had mapped out for her. Even in the weeks she’d had to reconsider her decision, they’d only succeeded in pushing her further away. And so she turned her back on her home, took her first crunchy step of freedom, and promised herself that she wouldn't look back.
She blinked thoughtfully as the frost patiently kissed her face, captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavy on her eyelashes. She adored the snow, more so when it was falling. It danced in the halos of warm lantern lights that lined her street, a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind. Her emerald gaze wandered across the untouched, fresh new page that awaited her, her lips curling at the silence that seemed to fall with each feathered crystal. She watched their descent for a moment of calm and clarity, their chaotic flight to form a blanket that could not be more uniform, more orderly. Yet for some their destination was to come to her hand, to alight upon her ungloved palm and let her warmth be their spring melt.
The moonlight was a diffuse ocean above her as she left the city, lessening the inky blackness of the night, but not so bright as to dull the stars that speckled and glittered in the heavens above, peeking down through the breaks in the heavy cloud. She needed no torch to find her way, the snow a buttermilk blanket that reflected the light of Arethil's moons and illuminated the land like some surreal dreamscape. Fintan carried her from the Vel Anir unhindered, and she made her usual journey along the river and through the shallows, across the fields and to the meadow and to the little snow-capped windmill by the forest's edge.
She smiled to herself as she peeked out from under her snowy hood and lifted her gaze to the window, sure that he would be here. He was always here.
"Amrose?!" she called, exclaiming in whisper as she tried not to disturb the silence. "It's today!"
Amrose
It would be tonight, whilst the streets were quiet and the city slumbered, that she'd leave this life behind her. Her beloved pearly friesian had been made ready some hours ago, and she waited until her house fell to rest before making her way silently outside. The heavy oak door closed with a soft click behind her, her fingertips tracing over a small carving of the letter 'A' she'd made in the varnished wood when she was too little to know any better, and she sighed, her breath a pale plume against the numbing air. She had grown up within these walls, and yet there would not be a day that would pass that she would miss anything about it. There was no fondness, and she could not stay and endure another moment of the lamentable life her parents had mapped out for her. Even in the weeks she’d had to reconsider her decision, they’d only succeeded in pushing her further away. And so she turned her back on her home, took her first crunchy step of freedom, and promised herself that she wouldn't look back.
She blinked thoughtfully as the frost patiently kissed her face, captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavy on her eyelashes. She adored the snow, more so when it was falling. It danced in the halos of warm lantern lights that lined her street, a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind. Her emerald gaze wandered across the untouched, fresh new page that awaited her, her lips curling at the silence that seemed to fall with each feathered crystal. She watched their descent for a moment of calm and clarity, their chaotic flight to form a blanket that could not be more uniform, more orderly. Yet for some their destination was to come to her hand, to alight upon her ungloved palm and let her warmth be their spring melt.
The moonlight was a diffuse ocean above her as she left the city, lessening the inky blackness of the night, but not so bright as to dull the stars that speckled and glittered in the heavens above, peeking down through the breaks in the heavy cloud. She needed no torch to find her way, the snow a buttermilk blanket that reflected the light of Arethil's moons and illuminated the land like some surreal dreamscape. Fintan carried her from the Vel Anir unhindered, and she made her usual journey along the river and through the shallows, across the fields and to the meadow and to the little snow-capped windmill by the forest's edge.
She smiled to herself as she peeked out from under her snowy hood and lifted her gaze to the window, sure that he would be here. He was always here.
"Amrose?!" she called, exclaiming in whisper as she tried not to disturb the silence. "It's today!"
Amrose
