The steam rises, metal wheels turn against their master, glass vibrates and a man anxious in his heart clutches the door to a certain passenger car and calls out to the patrons. "Mirue Station, all departing for Mirue Station"!
An elvish aged man folds up his German paper, tucking it neatly between the crease of the seats for perhaps its next passenger. Standing squarely he purchases his belongings from the cabinet above, a weathered suitcase patched up with cloth tape and an elegant wizards robe. He drapes the robe over his shoulder and waits for a space within the queue. Finding the end a bit less boisterous, he follows the rest of the departures. A small sum of immigrants, merchants and holiday makers flow out leaving the last of it's passengers to the mainland.
`Those sorry lot` He thought to himself. Softly landing on the platform he followed behind the procession of travellers out of the line-way and into the station house, checking in his luggage, ticket and best to avoid any merchants. Unfortunately he was not avoidable to the money-grubs.
"They sparkle under moonlight, they are called Moon pebbles, though they aren't really pebbles something like metal, a strange phenomenon up north. Are you interested in them mister"? The merchant stroke his beard looking at the stranger who caught his eye. "Were you in Hollenstadt? I hear the town has finally recovered but all those poor souls... so what can I interest you in"?
Cinder glared at him with a bit of anger then turned away ignoring further talk of the merchant and headed out the station. Walking down the warm coloured cobbled streets of Mirue once more he felt somewhat rejuvenated at least in demeanour. He smiled sadly passing by a familiar Turkish restaurant's grand double curved doors and yellow glass touches.. He paused staring into the last of the windows. "Rewa...".
~The sounds of a mandolin performer, the chatter of a small town country folk, the aroma of multiculturalism, the sights of imported mainland progress~
He sighed heavily as many memories resurface. it is much to bear but one must do so.
He parted ways with the window and switched hands with his patched suitcase and turned into the direction of the forest countryside. Several minutes of walking on soil did him good as he seemed to race across the green to the woods and slowly descended into a slow walk.
Amongst the dirt path an tall grass he lifted his gaze to the skyline shrouded in the woods. the night was always a favoured position of the sky for him, the moon, stars never let him down. Highlighted by splashes of night glow a simple stone wall of slate and mortar mix came into view as he walked further on. One grave highly ornate for such a simple dwelling rested in the centre surrounded by sunflowers and an old tree stood along the path to a house in the distance.. He knelt down and kissed the gravestone resting his palms on the cool soil.
"I'm home".
An elvish aged man folds up his German paper, tucking it neatly between the crease of the seats for perhaps its next passenger. Standing squarely he purchases his belongings from the cabinet above, a weathered suitcase patched up with cloth tape and an elegant wizards robe. He drapes the robe over his shoulder and waits for a space within the queue. Finding the end a bit less boisterous, he follows the rest of the departures. A small sum of immigrants, merchants and holiday makers flow out leaving the last of it's passengers to the mainland.
`Those sorry lot` He thought to himself. Softly landing on the platform he followed behind the procession of travellers out of the line-way and into the station house, checking in his luggage, ticket and best to avoid any merchants. Unfortunately he was not avoidable to the money-grubs.
"They sparkle under moonlight, they are called Moon pebbles, though they aren't really pebbles something like metal, a strange phenomenon up north. Are you interested in them mister"? The merchant stroke his beard looking at the stranger who caught his eye. "Were you in Hollenstadt? I hear the town has finally recovered but all those poor souls... so what can I interest you in"?
Cinder glared at him with a bit of anger then turned away ignoring further talk of the merchant and headed out the station. Walking down the warm coloured cobbled streets of Mirue once more he felt somewhat rejuvenated at least in demeanour. He smiled sadly passing by a familiar Turkish restaurant's grand double curved doors and yellow glass touches.. He paused staring into the last of the windows. "Rewa...".
~The sounds of a mandolin performer, the chatter of a small town country folk, the aroma of multiculturalism, the sights of imported mainland progress~
He sighed heavily as many memories resurface. it is much to bear but one must do so.
He parted ways with the window and switched hands with his patched suitcase and turned into the direction of the forest countryside. Several minutes of walking on soil did him good as he seemed to race across the green to the woods and slowly descended into a slow walk.
Amongst the dirt path an tall grass he lifted his gaze to the skyline shrouded in the woods. the night was always a favoured position of the sky for him, the moon, stars never let him down. Highlighted by splashes of night glow a simple stone wall of slate and mortar mix came into view as he walked further on. One grave highly ornate for such a simple dwelling rested in the centre surrounded by sunflowers and an old tree stood along the path to a house in the distance.. He knelt down and kissed the gravestone resting his palms on the cool soil.
"I'm home".