The 45th day of Winter in the 509th year AV
Home is where the heart is...
Sure, you could call it home in theory. Shari preferred to consider it a dwelling rather than a home, however. This small cottage felt more like a deserted prison than any home she was ever familiar with. The floor was covered with dust and dirt and the lonely table and chair marking the center of the single room almost repelled any sane mind from having a seat. The bed and a small chest lined the wall adjacent to the hearth which looked as if it had not been used since the place was built. Taking account of all her belongings, the door standing wide open beside her truly was the only evidence that the place was not a prison.
Shaking her head, the Myrian made a mental oath to herself to avoid spending much time here. Shari had greater plans and would only use this space as a location to sleep when other prospects fell through. Myri let me succeed, she thought as she took a breath and recollected herself from the disappointment she found herself standing in. It was all that was left after her mother passed away not long ago. Well, this old place and the beret Shari wore in her hair. Trying to weigh the worth of the cottage against that of the beret, Shari would run her fingers through her long black hair and quickly decide that the heirloom reminded her more of her mother and therefore gave the item the upper hand. Shari felt she gained strength through her mother. She smiled.
The corner of her lips pulled upwards so slightly while the lids of her eyes settled comfortably. Shari felt she was ready. Most importantly, her mother told her she was ready before dying and that was all the convincing she needed. Taloba was such a glorious city for her people and Shari wanted nothing more than to devote her life to enriching the city and delivering all her strengths to any Myrian that needed her. Though the precise direction she was going to take eluded her, the woman realized it would come to her when the gods deemed appropriate.
She turned her back on the taunting table and chair and moved into her doorway. Observing her small area of the city for however many bells may have passed, Shari could never feel more connected to her city and her race. Glancing back over her shoulder after a while, she pursed her lips and gave a slight shrug. This place may not feel like home, but the city itself would always be home to her.
Home is where the dark heart is... Yes, by Myri, she was home.