Vol 2. Ch 4.

I can smell the familiar scent of dried flowers floating in the room, surrounding me. Enveloping me in the sweet, darling memories of past. I feel warm, and safe. The sheets feel oddly soft yet worn against my skin. The blanket is thin, but it keeps me comfortable. Do I hear a bird—that rascal of a starling perhaps—knocking on my window? Do I hear wind rustling the leaves outside? For some reason, I want to stay here a little longer. Just— A little—

BANG—BANG—BANG

The clearest sound of a fist against the door startled Sophia awake along with a loud, beloved husky voice. One she felt she hadn’t heard in ages, as if fallen into a deep hibernation for centuries, ’’SOPHIA! Get out of bed, ya lazy kid!’’

Now, completely out of it—shaken awake, she sat there nearly falling off the small bed with hair sticking everywhere and traces of the good night's sleep still holding her eyesight hazy, ’’G— Grandpa Bill?’’ Sophia rubbed the dream from the corners of her eyes and tried to blink a few times. What a way to start the day.

’’Who else? You dummy.’’ Bill could be heard huffing on the other side of the door. Sophia knew his expression without actually witnessing it, forcing a faint smile on her lips, ’’Get out of bed and come down for breakfast. Before I eat yours, too.’’

Sophia heard the heavy sound of his footsteps going further away, the familiar creaking of the old wooden floor giving away each movement, the pattern of each sound of the boards deeply memorized, ’’No, don’t go.’’

She threw the blanket still covering her legs to the side, not knowing why she suddenly felt so desperate. She stumbled a few steps and came in front of a mirror leaning against the wall. Staring back was her own, disheveled yet comfy reflection. In her own upstairs bedroom that used to belong to her father, the white nightgown with a small ribbon tied at the front, the hem loosely reaching her calves. For some reason, Sophia raised both of her hands in front. Why did she feel the need to do that? There was nothing out of the ordinary to look at, after all. Why would there be? As if she wasn’t certain of existence itself and had to make sure she was real, alive—there.

Sophia didn’t think much of it, brushed her thick hair on one side and grabbed the matching dressing gown hanging from the backrest of a chair, and headed downstairs. Rushing as if anticipating something. Coming to the corner by the end of the stairs, she swung herself so hard the flimsy railing of the staircase almost came along with her—making a mental note to finally fix that damn thing for the fifth hundredth time—and there it was. The sight she so despairingly sought. The kitchen with its light green cabinets, the counters made out of dark wood, and floors covered with small white tiles. The lovely mismatch of their lil' old cabin. The morning sun through the windows above the sink reflected the warm, tender beams of light. And amongst all that, the most important of all; the one who made it home.

The side of Grandpa Bill standing there, scooping some steaming oat porridge from the old and mangled pot, adding a small piece of butter to melt in the middle and milk poured on the edges. Sophia admired with her eyes reflecting the warmth that spread throughout her entire body with each singular beating of a heart, enough to cause a lonely tear falling against her cheek.

’’What’re you staring at, kid? Sit down already now, would you.’’ Bill placed the typical, overflowing bowl of breakfast at her usual spot, ’’I swear, you sleep like a log heading towards a waterfall.’’

Sophia placed her shaky fingers over her lips, not knowing why, but feeling as if she’d missed and terribly yearned for something very dear for oh so long, and tried to hide the giggle, ’’Did I ever tell you how terrible you are at coming up with metaphors?’’

’’Yeah? Well ain’t that something.’’ Bill took the equally as mangled metallic coffee cup he refused to get rid of in one hand and opened the newspaper, spreading it wide and covering himself behind it as always, ’’I know you appreciate ’em, so quit complaining and start eating.’’

’’I never said I didn’t appreciate them!’’ Sophia couldn’t hide the joyous giggles anymore, ’’Keep coming up with more, we should gather a book about them and make a fortune.’’ She took the large spoon and began to scoop the delicious porridge, perfectly creamy as Bill chuckled with approval, silently out of sight. Sophia swayed her legs happily beneath the table, then crossed them to keep still. The usual silence settled between the two. It was always moments like these. The silent noises made from simply existing and nothing more, entirely comfortable with the harmonious company of one another. It had always felt like a dream, one of those never-ending ones. Perhaps for that very reason, Sophia never saw the end coming.

As Sophia kept enjoying the breakfast, she noticed the patterns that the early sunlight created on the surface of the light green cabinets, the shadows of tree branches gently swaying and a bird landing on one of them, but only for a brief moment, having its well-deserved rest before continuing on. She listened to the faintest of sounds. The rustling of Bill’s newspaper and each time he swallowed the bitter coffee, and the satisfied sigh that followed. She listened to the sounds their old cabin created. The small creaking as the walls settled, or as the wind howled through a crack somewhere. She smelled the air filled with a mixture of breakfast preparations, old furniture and wooden textures.

But despite all that, something began to slowly stir up in her heart. She felt her eyes beginning to burn as if about to yawn. Her autumn lips pressed together, her throat felt tight unable to swallow as she finally realized the unavoidable—

Sophia had tried her best to read the articles on the cover of Grandpa Bill’s newspaper, as she always did, but despite how many times she tried, she simply could not comprehend a word that those letters combined. Because they made no sense. None of it did. And with that realization of a deadened reality, Sophia’s surroundings began to melt like a pouring sky of summer rain, yet Grandpa Bill remained on his seat, as he would, and for as long as she needed him to. Unharmed. Unfazed. There.

And as everything around her slowly faded, Sophia whispered her final goodbye, ’’I miss you—’’

Eyes filled with tears, the first thing Sophia saw upon waking was the bouquets of flowers now hanging from the tall bed frame above her. The tears wouldn’t cease, yet her expression stayed apathetic. Her mind completely void. Tranquil as the surface of a forgotten lake. She felt a glint of resentment for being pulled away from a dream which felt like a resting place for her aching heart, in the life she once had and could never return to.

All I hoped for was for nothing to change ever again. To have another year. Had I asked for too much?— Sophia closed her eyes, knowing it wouldn’t bring her back around that kitchen table and those silent and immeasurable moments with Bill.

It must’ve been the scent of the dried flowers in the guest room that pulled her in that dream, her subconscious playing tricks. A creation which felt like she’d stepped into another timeline where nothing bad ever happened. So realistic, she did not even notice anything peculiar about it at first glance. She hadn’t noticed all the missing pieces giving away the imagination. As if everything up until now had been just a bad dream. Woken up by Bill and his unceremonious banging on the door. Oddly enough, that is exactly how it would’ve played out. If only it were the reality instead of this.

Sure, with the additional new decor, the guest room of Aurelius Manor smelled familiar but lacked everything else. The sheets were too soft and silky. The room too wide and bright, and overall unnecessary. Everything else, and nothing at all.

That day, Sophia did not feel like getting out of bed. She knew that Jenna had a day off, so hopefully no one would be coming to check up on her. She pulled the blanket up to her nose and curled up beneath it. Crinkling the entire face like a raisin did not stop the tears from flowing, leaving the only option to let them out until there’d be nothing left to spill.

By the afternoon, Sophia couldn’t take the sounds of her stomach any longer and headed to the kitchen. There, the old chef Walter and his young apprentice Fiona were preparing for the upcoming supper, more than happy to gather a plate from the leftovers which Sophia had missed earlier. After finishing her more than enough meal, Sophia went outside by the tall tree that had the swing hanging from the sturdy branch, and sat on the dry grass with her back leaning against the tree trunk. She swept the dark blue dress in the crook of her knees, took off her shoes and found a comfortable position. Sinking into the feelings, she opened the freshly acquired book, and found the last spot effortlessly with a bookmark made by Marvy as a birthday gift. Of course, Marié had helped just a little bit, the bookmark a piece of art with loads of colors.

Sophia brushed her thumb on the surface of the bookmark with a hint of a smile decorating her lips before placing it between the cover and the first page of the book, always careful not to lose it.

There, the grass created tiny green waves around her together with the scuffling sounds of the northern breeze. The clouds barely let the sun be shown, rushing to cover the excessive light as soon as it got a chance to take a peek, and the air had a hint of fresh drops of water scented to it.

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Will it rain, or will it not? If Grandpa Bill was here, he’d know for sure— Sophia took a small break from reading to try and predict the outcome herself. How her mind always went back to those she shared her later childhood with, the days of early teenage years, growing into adulthood. Even something as mundane as weather would always tie back to those days. Those clouds, slightly darkened as they loomed over Delmaer, determined the conclusion that Sophia would still have a good two hours before the evening would set with a possible downpour. She never quite got as good as Bill, predicting the weather, and came to understand she never would. It was strictly Bill’s talent, after all. How he did it so precisely, no one knew.

While admiring the clouds for a few more minutes, without even realizing being stuck there with the view, Sophia’s eyelids began to close yet again. As if she hadn’t slept through the entire day already. Slowly, the book slipped through her fingers and onto her lap, resting there as her point of view became heavier and narrower. And right then and there, Sophia fell asleep.

It was impossible not to. And for what felt like hours, Sophia leaned against the large tree and listened to the soft sounds quietly blend into her dreams.

And whilst in the spell of dreaminess, Sophia hadn’t heard the footsteps approaching from the direction of the trail leading somewhere she hadn’t yet visited. Those approaching steps had moved on an even, determined pace at first, but softened as they came closer.

On the ground beside her laid the bookmark with many lines of crayons depicting a cheerful, childish wonder. Thankfully stuck between a few longer strands of grass, keeping it from escaping with the occasional stronger wind.

Ren looked down at the sleeping woman who had been hiding inside her room for the entire day. He had been contemplating for hours whether he should go and invite Miss Dilamor somewhere, or whether he should let her be for now. There must've been a reason for her absence. A reason that was none of his business.

He hunched down to pick up the fallen bookmark, coming to the conclusion that it must’ve been a valuable item, for how well and clean it had been kept despite the color changes. Most bookmarks would begin to tear or crinkle with the passage of time, but not this one.

Then, Ren noticed the book lying on Sophia’s lap. The black cover with the golden details of vines and the title in the middle. Holy Brilliance. He did not need to read the first pages to know what it was about. Those blessed with the gift. He couldn’t help but wonder why all of a sudden the topic interested her. After all, Ren had seen her absorbed in the topics of flowers, plants, medicine and herbs up until now.

He stayed there. Not moving. Until Sophia flinched awake, and right away their eyes met. One with the near golden amber—and one with the entirety of forests bestowed.

’’Uh— Sir? When did you—’’ Sophia rubbed her eyes and straightened herself into a proper posture.

’’Just now.’’ Ren answered briefly whilst handing the bookmark, ’’But most importantly, why are you sleeping here outside?’’

’’I didn’t mean to. It just happened.’’ Sophia accepted the bookmark and placed it between the pages just as gently as Ren had imagined.

’’That book. I don’t think I own a copy.’’ Ren nodded towards the expensive-looking piece now neatly over Sophia’s thighs.

’’I bought it from Madam Goldwind’s store—’’ Sophia looked down at it with pride, ’’I managed to make a deal, paid a portion with money and— oh, right. I haven’t yet to inform you. I will be attending the orphanage a few times a week from now on.’’ She remembered suddenly.

’’Why is that?’’ Ren asked. ’’Madam Goldwind has a habit of regularly reading for the children. Is that it?’’ He made it known that he’d be joining the current outing, lowering down to sit beside her.

’’Yes. That, exactly.’’ She answered while looking anywhere else.

’’It’s a good job, very respectable. I’m impressed. Only a few days in a new town and you didn’t even need my help to find something to do.’’ Ren picked a small stick from the ground and began to twist it into his will. Just to have something to keep himself busy as the air between them felt a little awkward still.

’’I suppose. At least I’ll get my mind out of—’’ Sophia said under her breath, but halted as she felt her emotions begin to seep through a tad too much. Ren, however, took notice. Anyone would’ve. Leaning forward, he tried to sign her to go on, but noticed her apprehension and thus decided to let it go.

’’Oh, both of you’re here?’’ Unexpectedly, the voice of Colin could be heard coming from the patio of the breakfast lounge as both of them turned towards it, ’’I heard I’d find Miss Dilamor here and perhaps you’d know where Ren is, but I guess I caught two flies with one hit, huh?’’ He chuckled at the coincidence.

’’Who’re you calling bugs?’’ Ren smirked at him, curiously surprising Sophia. He had smiled a couple of times before, yes, but there had always been this unnamed tension between them in those situations, something that did not exist between him and Colin. A certain laidback, natural calmness of the familiar person, ’’What do you need? I thought I told you I’d be taking some time off today.’’ He threw the wire-thin stick bend into knots with a relaxed wrist.

’’The staff by the east wing is searching for you. Something about the supply orders now cancelled due to the roads being shut down.’’ Colin pointed the obvious direction with his thumb.

’’I might know already. It was expected, after all.’’ Ren pulled himself up with a hint of unwillingness. Must’ve been the comfortable position he’d found, ’’Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. For breakfast. Surely you won’t be skipping another meal now, would you?’’ He turned and looked down towards the woman whose skin couldn’t hide the pale nausea. The under-eyes with the lack of water had.

’’I won’t.’’ Sophia answered, unknowingly and softly dragging her nail against the golden details on the corner of the book cover as the silence surrounding her settled once more.

’’He’s a good man.’’ Colin said once they both watched the back of his frame moving further away. Only then did Sophia acknowledge Fior Colin staying behind with her. Standing there still at the same spot only a few steps from her. He sure was handsome, as an understatement. A man who turned gazes and knew how to work around them. He was wearing only half of the usual military gear, the white shirt tucked in his dark green pants, the belt missing the knife given by the Kingdom.

’’Yes.’’ Sophia answered quietly, ’’I think so, too.’’

’’Is that so?’’ Now, his opening declaration sounded like he’d been testing the surface for conversation. Colin might as well have beamed with how his eyes sparkled even beneath the cloud-filled sky, ’’I do not know if this is appropriate for me to say, to a Lady like yourself, but I’ve always had a great deal of respect for him. How could I not? Despite his upbringing, he never lost sight of right and wrong.’’ Leaning against the wide tree, he kept staring in the direction which Ren left towards, the man now out of sight, ’’In this world, that is a rare sight to see—’’

’’And it is exactly why I have faith in him. He’s going to be the perfect addition in the King’s circle as the Duke of North, one day.’’ Colin continued.

Right. A Duke. Son of a prestigious noble family— Sophia nodded as her only answer. She hadn’t given much thought to his higher position after the burden of having to save his life had been lifted from her shoulders. Perhaps too busy with everything else on her mind to worry about next, and understandably so. But now that someone else pointed out the obvious in the open, she couldn’t help but see the huge chasm between the two lives.

Colin must’ve noticed the woman sinking into deep internal monologue as he gave her a moment to finish whatever it might’ve been before saying another word, ’’A lot of men came back broken from the war over the sea, but not young Ren VonGehall. He felt the responsibility for others clinging from his sleeves. Simply because of his background. It made him seek for perfection at all turns. And as he became the Commander, if his soldiers fail, it’s always been on him.’’

’’I don’t think anyone could come back whole from something as devastating as war.’’ Sophia spoke without thinking. She’d done it again. Wishing she could smack herself then and there or have someone else do it for her. But she couldn’t help it. It’s as if the events of Brifena flashed through right in front of her eyes. The piles of bodies. The burning buildings. The clouds of destruction. A war could not be that much of a reach, albeit on a far more larger scale.

But instead of condemning her outspoken words, Colin huffed with a slight smile. Agreeing.

’’Suppose that’s inevitable.’’ Colin sighed and crossed his arms, ’’You’ve seen it too, right? He’s always serious, in control. But then, out of nowhere, once he’s relaxed enough with those around him, he’ll let another form come through. I used to think he lowers the guns only in the presence of myself—but right when I saw you two together I realized, you might be the only other person I’ve seen him completely at ease with. He treats you with much care.’’ He looked down at her with mischievous eyes, raising an eyebrow.

’’Whatever you might be imagining, Sir VonGehall is only incredibly accommodating.’’ Sophia answered with a raised nose, doubting his words even, hopefully shutting down the man’s suggestive suggestions, ’’And that is all.’’

’’Sure thing, sweetheart.’’ Colin couldn’t help but laugh with a layer of sarcasm at her defense, enjoying the banter and seeing her greatly offended by the nickname, ’’Something tells me that you are just as keen on perfectionism as he is. Might not be a good match, y’know?’’

’’Demanding perfection is merely a form of arrogance.’’ Sophia answered just as wittily.

’’Oh, you don’t think he’s perfect?’’ Colin covered his mouth, acting shocked. How exaggerated. In some way, however, Sophia found him quite entertaining.

’’And who is?’’ She shrugged, making her point across, ’’From a noble family or not, I don’t think he needs to be, either.’’

For some reason, her simple opinion caught Colin off guard. He wasn’t expecting such straightforward thinking from such a proper-looking pretty little thing. Enough so he couldn’t come up with anything to keep the lighthearted back-and-forth going. Suddenly, Colin found himself reminded of the times when things did not go accordingly, witnessing the near self-loathing from the failure across Ren’s face as a result. Colin knew that those words spoken with a mere shrug might just be the only thing Ren would benefit from hearing in all his life—no, needed to hear. Too bad the man couldn’t be there to witness the acknowledgment himself. A man who had been taught from a very young age to only accept the best result in all situations, and see anything below that as an unworthy attempt.

’’Well, damn.’’ Colin whispered to himself. An inner voice kept telling him that this new acquaintance could become far more than a fleeting passerby on the path.

What an unlucky pair.

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