10th Summer, 505 AV
The fire never seemed to dance as lively as it did back then, and as it danced shadow and light played on those surrounding the fire for both warmth and protection. The end of a rather productive day of traveling would only lead to another, but then, after so much travel, they will finally be at their destination. They would be at Syliras, and there they would sell their wares, which varied from cheap nick-knacks to more expensive armor and weapons. There were even rumors of Magecrafted items. Alabaster didn’t know about that, he only knew a little about Magecraft and what he did know he was sure they didn’t have anything that fit the description, and his father assured him that it was just rumors. Though that didn’t keep people from asking, and it seemed that the rumors kept on spreading even though they kept on denying them.
Alabasters and Canes, or Mr. Reymon as people called him, set up was simple. They had a cart full of wares of things that they would pick up along their travels and sell at the next town or city over. The cart itself was pulled by an old, but all too reliable Zavian horse named Natu. The name not of Canes choosing, but of little, back when the horse was born, five year old Alabaster, of course the boy is much older now, though nevertheless the name stuck. They were wanderers searching, as all their family did, for knowledge lost to be found again. Alabaster at an early age had the love of adventure and travel drilled into him, but as of yet he possessed none of the wilderness survival traits that his father had. It was almost mocking of the family line, but Cane thought the preservation of the families roots in magic should be preserved more so than the wilderness. It was going to be a great understanding in magic that will allow the kid, hopefully, to make earth changing discoveries, and that was the hopes for the family of archaeowizards.
Alabaster watched the fire with wide eyes as it gave direction to both light and dark. It was amazing, and amused him to no end as he sat there. Their camp was nothing special and was quite a ways off the beaten trail. His father always told him it was for the best when he complained about having to walk such a ways from the main road to set camp. He didn’t understand it back then, nor why his even after setting up his father would go around and draw numerous runes and place tags with weird symbols on them surrounding the camps. Cane was always extra cautious when it came to protection while they tried to rest. Even after all the glyphs are set he would finish with a barrier. All of this took well over an hour to accomplish. In that time it was Alabasters job, now that he was older, to be sure that dinner wasn’t cold, and remembering that he looked down at stew that was sitting in the small kettle, steaming, on the ground by the fire. It was just taken off.
Expecting his father to be soon he got up and went the cart, being dark out it was hard to see, and he fumbled around in a small leather bag before producing from it a big spoon to stir the stew that was mainly made up of fish that was freshly caught today and some leftovers from last night’s meal. It was a mish mash of things, but his dad, he knew how make it all taste so good.
Bringing the spoon back to the kettle he stirred the stew a bit smiling, taking in the great smelling scent of cooked fish in the brew. He loved fish, and it was one thing that he just couldn’t get enough of. Fish was great and very yummy. It was also, as he was told by his father many times, all too good for him; which made his obsession with fish even better in his mind. Hearing solid footsteps behind him he knew that his father was back from all of his casting. The nightly routine having seemingly no ill effect to his health and it was a great way to prepare for bed. The more tired you are the better rest you will get after all.
Alabaster looked up from his spot and smiled at his father, “Everything set up?” He asked as he did every night, and every night he got the same reply. Cane grinned down at him, “Everything is up. The real question is: Is the food ready?” The grin didn’t fade from the fathers face as he sat down next to Alabaster eyeing the kettle. This sort of thing becoming almost ritualistic between them, and has been for a while. It was nice though, to have something that was constant and unchanging. It was kind of a support, the kind that was concrete in its making and wouldn’t waver, but nonetheless has the power to invoke painful memories once the cycle is broken. Such structure comes at a steep price it seems. |
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