20th of Summer, 516 AV
Working was the focal point of Aladari’s life. She spent hours of her day scooping fish from the water with her net, gathering the treasures the sea had to offer from under their rocks, or just waiting for a bite. Then, she carried them home, lugged in buckets, nets, or a rented wagon of which she was her own mule. Not even then was she done. She moved on to gut, clean, and debone the fish until they were suitable for cooking. Sometimes she would even salt them for preservation- but only if she had the time and money. By that point in the day, Syna was usually ready to disappear, and her day was gone, rolling already into the next.
Some days, though, she had time off. She had time to enjoy what little the city had to offer in the taverns or brothels with beautifully dressed dancers, cheap ale, and the soothing sound of dice rolling on a table as she played with the Mizas she had earned.
Today, though, was a rare day; it was a day that the two overlapped.
Today she was neither confined to the grueling work schedule of the day, nor was she captured by the nightlife. Instead, she found herself reclined by the seaside docks, her pole held in one hand, and a drink in the other.
The drink was not her usual fare. It was sweet- almost fruity- and tasted as though it had aged for a great while. It was not exciting as ale, but rather, soothing. It lulled her to a position near meditation, echoed by the soft pull of the waves on her line. She had last checked that her bait was still there over 40 chimes ago. But to disturb the waters now seemed almost a crime, so steady they were.
Instead, she held the pole loosely, letting it bob up and down in her grip. Her thumb rested gently on the line in order to distinguish a nibble from the regular movement, her eyes scanned the water for dark patches in the light sun, and her body lay still. It was all made from good habits, but her mind was not focused on the task, so none of it really mattered.
She took another sip of the wine, savoring the taste that lingered in the back of her throat. If I catch a big one today, she thought, I'll sell it, and spend it all on some good wine. The mere idea of having wine bottled up in her own home made her grin and chuckle to herself. Wine, at home? What was she, a noble?
Despite the absurdity of the thought, she could feel herself sit up a little straighter, and grip the pole a little tighter. Maybe a reward, some motivation, was exactly what she needed. She set the nearly empty cup down beside her on the dock, watching it with one eye to make certain it would not fall. If she got down to work, she promised herself, there would be more where that came from.
Word Count513
Working was the focal point of Aladari’s life. She spent hours of her day scooping fish from the water with her net, gathering the treasures the sea had to offer from under their rocks, or just waiting for a bite. Then, she carried them home, lugged in buckets, nets, or a rented wagon of which she was her own mule. Not even then was she done. She moved on to gut, clean, and debone the fish until they were suitable for cooking. Sometimes she would even salt them for preservation- but only if she had the time and money. By that point in the day, Syna was usually ready to disappear, and her day was gone, rolling already into the next.
Some days, though, she had time off. She had time to enjoy what little the city had to offer in the taverns or brothels with beautifully dressed dancers, cheap ale, and the soothing sound of dice rolling on a table as she played with the Mizas she had earned.
Today, though, was a rare day; it was a day that the two overlapped.
Today she was neither confined to the grueling work schedule of the day, nor was she captured by the nightlife. Instead, she found herself reclined by the seaside docks, her pole held in one hand, and a drink in the other.
The drink was not her usual fare. It was sweet- almost fruity- and tasted as though it had aged for a great while. It was not exciting as ale, but rather, soothing. It lulled her to a position near meditation, echoed by the soft pull of the waves on her line. She had last checked that her bait was still there over 40 chimes ago. But to disturb the waters now seemed almost a crime, so steady they were.
Instead, she held the pole loosely, letting it bob up and down in her grip. Her thumb rested gently on the line in order to distinguish a nibble from the regular movement, her eyes scanned the water for dark patches in the light sun, and her body lay still. It was all made from good habits, but her mind was not focused on the task, so none of it really mattered.
She took another sip of the wine, savoring the taste that lingered in the back of her throat. If I catch a big one today, she thought, I'll sell it, and spend it all on some good wine. The mere idea of having wine bottled up in her own home made her grin and chuckle to herself. Wine, at home? What was she, a noble?
Despite the absurdity of the thought, she could feel herself sit up a little straighter, and grip the pole a little tighter. Maybe a reward, some motivation, was exactly what she needed. She set the nearly empty cup down beside her on the dock, watching it with one eye to make certain it would not fall. If she got down to work, she promised herself, there would be more where that came from.
Word Count513
