Topic: Reclamation

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2015-08-14 17:37 EST
North Cadentia Sometimes, Glenn felt like he had spent his entire life at work. It wasn't just that he had been a workaholic for most of his life, turning wood in sawdust-filled workshops, planting seeds in carefully tilled gardens, or thumbing through thick magic tomes on the whims of his Evocation Studies professor. It was that so many of the places he had lived in had been work spaces in previous lives. The barn he had rented for so long, close to when he had first moved to RhyDin. The stores he had owned, where the back rooms had served as both impromptu napping centers and makeshift hotels when he worked too late into the night. His dorm room at Sygil, where he was constantly surrounded by the books and scrolls he was studying. Even now, he was living in a fixer-upper farmhouse south of RhyDin, and what was a farm if not a job that the farmer could never escape" Neither rain, nor snow, nor baking sun, nor holidays or sickness or tragedy, could stop the farmer. There were always crops to be watered, animals to be fed, tractors and combines to maintain. The work was always waiting, even when sleeping or eating or visiting friends in town. It never really went away. It was the perfect life for him.

It was hard for him to the trace the threads of his life that led him to this moment. What had he been doing" What had he been trying to do' As a child, his goal had been to grow up, without revealing the secret he held that would put him at odds with his community. As a young adult, he sought to move away from his repressive home and succeeded, only to find the behaviors he had learned to hide himself hard to shake. He had set goals for himself, met them, and then watched them drift away from him in a haze of accidents and ill fortune. He had met the Angel of his childhood, and discovered she was no divine agent, but a person, one with dreams and goals and flaws all her own. He had fallen in love, again and again and again, and each time the relationships ended. Sometimes he had broken things off, sometimes she had. Sometimes he couldn't remember who was to blame. Sometimes he could. It was hard to say which was more painful to live with.

He had wanted to believe there was a bigger meaning to his life, a deeper purpose than driving nails through wood on others" behalf, than scratching through the dirt to feed himself. The answer hadn't come from learning magic, or from traveling through time and space with his Angel. It hadn't come from falling in love, and having his heart broken. If the answer hadn't come from everything he had tried up to this point in his life, was it ever going to come"

Maybe there was no answer. Maybe that was why he was doing something he had already done before: farming out in the country, experimenting with geomancy and other natural magics. Only this time, the magic that nature used to turn seeds, soil, and water into edible fruits, vegetables, and grains, was going to need more than the usual farmer's helping hand. Some disaster, some apocalypse long since past, had desertified Cadentia, left it a barren wasteland where precious little grew, and none of it easily edible to humanoids. The only people left in the heart of Cadentia were nomads, scavengers, and scrappers, searching and fighting in the ruins of a lost civilization. Even in the northern reaches of Cadentia, where the desertification had not yet taken full root, the soil had been barren and fruitless for years — maybe even decades. This was where Glenn came in.

He had returned to RhyDin in the spring, right as planting season began, and he had vigorously prepped the land with fertilizers, tilling, and heaping helpings of magic — introducing nutrients to the dirt that had been stripped out and couldn't be chemically replaced, coaxing seeds to germinate, pulling precious water out of the air to irrigate sprouting crops. It wasn't quite the farmers" "Knee-high by the 4th of July,? but his fields of soybeans and corn were looking healthy, if a little shorter than their counterparts closer to the city. He wasn't going to get rich off of his small patch of dirt, and the amount of work and magical know-how needed to pull off his project was unlikely to scale up across the rest of North Cadentia. And who knew if it would even work farther south' Still, Gaia rewarded anyone who did his or her best to make the world a better place, even if the efforts seemed small and meager. Perhaps that was the best he could hope for these days — a future reward when he went to become one with the Sun, or crumbled into dust in the ground.

Or maybe the reward was that he had been given another opportunity to reinvent himself. After everything he had been through, after everywhere he had been and everything he had seen and everything that had been done to him, he was still alive. After all the mistakes he had made, all the things he had promised to do and hadn't done, he was still alive. He had been giving another chance and now, finally, he felt like he could take full advantage of it.

But something had to change — something he had never bothered to alter in all his years in the city. He had control of his magic now — had been in control for years — yet still he kept up the glamour and illusion of being human. The old prejudices stuck in his mind, and kept him stuck in an identity that wasn't quite true. Now that he was older, those opinions didn't seem to matter anymore. It was finally time to live in his own skin. It was finally time for him to live as an elf.

Living as an elf wasn't going to be enough, though. In order to fully live — in order for the change to find roots — he knew there was one more thing that had to happen.

Glenn Kristophe Woodwright had to die.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2015-09-09 21:07 EST
"For all that from her springs, and is ybredde, How-ever fayre it flourish for a time, Yet see we soone decay; and, being dead, To turne again unto their earthly slime: Yet, out of their decay and mortall crime, We daily see new creatures to arize, And of their winter spring another prime?" (Edmund Spenser, "Dame Nature")

September 8, 2015 It's almost harvest time. Soon, the fertile earth will give up its bounty, and the fields will lie fallow until the spring cycles around once again. The dirt is packed, but some of it will inevitably loosen with rain or my footsteps. The remnants of corn stalks won't all go away immediately. And soon enough, the earth will be dusted with snow.

I won't know for sure if I've been successful until the crops are harvested, but all signs are promising. The corn stands tall and proud in the fields, and the green fat leaves of the soybean plants seem healthy, too. I'll have hired hands to help with the harvest, of course. There's too much for me to do alone, plus my hip doesn't always behave the way it needs to.

I'm trying not to think about the work ahead, or what I'm going to do when I'm done farming. There will be tests to run on the soil, of course, but that won't take nearly as long as what I've previously been doing. I don't know that I want to go back to woodworking or carpentry to pay bills again. I don't know that I have the educational background to teach or do magical research. I'll have to figure something out soon, I guess.

I try to tell myself what I'm doing is important, that saving just a little bit of the land is better than doing nothing. But sometimes I wonder if it really matters. I used to believe that when you died, you went to become one with the sun, or one with the earth. Both, maybe. But I think I've seen too much to think that's the case anymore. I've traveled in and through time. I've seen the End of Time. I've seen my Angel prove to be just flesh and blood. I don't think there's a happy ending with Gaia or Sol at the end of this life. I don't think there's a sad ending either. I think we die, and we go back into the earth, and we become one with the earth, but there's nothing more for us. For our minds. We die, and that's it. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," I've heard some people say.

So why am I doing this, if I won't be around in any way, shape, or form to see what my efforts do' I don't know. I guess it beats doing nothing" I really don't know. I am adrift in a sea of troubles, and though I don't have plans to rage against them, I'm not sure the troubles are something I could rage against anyways. There are no enemies — no pirates, no soldiers, no villains — to take up arms against. The Mystery is now and forever inscrutable, between me and my Angel. The dream of solving that conundrum is dead and buried. Is it ennui I am fighting" If so, how do you fight boredom' And what good does it do the world to fight that selfish foe, when there are so many bigger problems to face" Is it that I think I'm too weak to face them' Or am I just too afraid?

I'm not afraid to die, but I think I'm afraid to live.

Imrathion Tathar

Date: 2015-09-27 19:16 EST
September 27, 2015 I found a job, which was...I don't know. I don't want to say it was easy, because it required me to flex some skills and muscles I haven't had to use in a really long time. I'm just lucky that as messed up as my memory is for names and dates and history and stuff like that, my muscle memory is still sharp as a tack. I showed them my carpentry and woodworking skills could transfer over to what they needed, and they agreed to hire me on. Full time. 9-5. With some early Sunday mornings for teardown, but that's not a big deal to me.

I got hired by the Shananchie Theater, over in the WestEnd, to be a set-builder. The hours are good, the pay is good, and the people I've met are nice. But I'm still terrified that it will be easier for me to have gotten that job than it will be for me to keep it. And getting the job took effort.

I'm not on the stage, or dealing with the actors. I'm not taking tickets, or waiting tables at their cafe, or anything that really requires public interaction. But I still have to work with the other craftsmen there, and my boss, Victoria. And I'm just...I know I'm not good with people. I mean, I was never very outgoing, and now I'm just...I have a hard time keeping track of the time. I have a hard time not letting my mind wander sometimes. People don't like it when you forget their names, forget something they told you a couple of minutes ago. And I've gotten so used to spending so much of my time alone, or with just one other person. This'll be different, since there's a lot of people working at the theater. Am I going to do something to make somebody mad, and not even know it' I can't remember the last time I was working for somebody. No, wait, I think I do. Not counting the times I made things for people when I owned my own store...When I first got here, I did construction work. That's right. I didn't last long there.

But spring and summer are over, and I can't farm in the fall or winter, so I have to have this job. I have to keep it. RhyDin has no pity, no mercy on those who are poor and unfortunate. I have to keep this job. I just have to. I don't know what I'd do otherwise.