30th Summer, 520
“I heard there was a new Inarta in town.” Mila noted as soon as soon as it was obvious that Cithius was stirring from his afternoon rest. The dusk rest period was just finishing up, and so Cithius found himself unfortunately awake.
“Good morning, Ma.” He yawned, sitting up and throwing his blankets off to stumble towards the kitchen and ladling himself water to clear his dry mouth.
“You should go welcome him. One lane over, and two houses down.” Mila said, not distracted as she sat perched at her window. It was rare his mother brought up topics on her own, let alone stayed on topic, so Cithius quieted and examined his mother for a moment. Frail as ever, pale because she rarely went outside. Her scraggly black hair was loosely pinned back, and her big wool blanket was located on it’s usual perch, around her shoulders, despite the summer heat. It shielded the world from her bony elbows and arms, because of how little she ate. Sharp eyes were looking at him with intention, a rare sight in the vacant stare she usually possessed. It occurred to him that perhaps she wanted to meet the Inarta she had seen passing by her window.
“Would you like to come, Ma? You can make him some rolls, if you want.” Cithius offered, taking another swig of water and running his fingers through his bedhead. He only guessed she wanted to go. The woman made her rounds from her bed to the chair and back every day, with no interest or will to go further. She just watched the world like a housecat, rarely stirring from her perch. But Cihtius still hoped she would randomly snap out of it one day.
“Oh no, you’ll get along just fine, maybe...” She said, trailing off before finishing her thought. Perhaps that was all of her energy for the day, directing her son to greet a stranger. He felt like he was six again, first day of reading lessons with the neighbors and having to introduce himself to each neighborhood kid because his late father wanted him to be ‘well-rounded’. He had half the heart to refuse and go to the Surya Plaza to busk like any other night, but he paused. Despite the silly feeling of it, he could only imagine how intimidating it might be to move to another city. Cithius had heard tales of other civilizations, like Wind Reach, but Lhavit was all he had ever known. His childhood friends, although all moved on to their careers and lives, were peppered around the city. He knew the streets and the culture, but what if he didn’t? What if he came from a communal city where caste’s dictated what you did with your life and there was no mercy of Zintila which kept your city thriving despite the world around it? Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to say hello, offer the man a branch to hold on to.
Cithius moved to his trunk and started pulling out his comb and wash cloth. He quickly tidied up his appearance, putting on a shirt and proper pants as well. He stooped by his trunk and shuffled underneath his disorganized mess for a minute before pulling out an old tin can.
“Sweet.” He mouthed, noticing that there was still an ounce of Sywart and half an ounce of the local Sharai Tevino to mix in it. He rummaged again for his pipe and cards, and stuffed them in his pocket with his coin purse, just in case. “’Aight Ma, I’m gonna greet him, do you need anything while I’m gone?”
“No, no, sweetie.” She mumbled, and he paused, ladling her a glass of water and padding over to her to set it on the windowsill next to her, pulling his chair out next to her and slipping his feet into his boots, lacing them quietly next to her for a moment. When he was done he reached over and pecked a kiss on his mother’s forehead. “I’ll bring back a meal from the Zintia peak, okay? Don’t worry about cooking.” He said, she did not respond or acknowledge his words in any way. Trying not to think about how often his mother checked out of reality like this, he slipped out the door, locking it behind him. It was a long step over the gate, which he hadn’t bothered to open in seasons because it was so short, and he was off.
The fact that his mother new exactly which cottage was the newcomer’s was only mildly concerning. She did spend all her waking hours at that window, but the house she described was out of her view. It was only once the cottage came into Cithius’ sight that he realized it was the right house, it was obvious There were no personal affects added to it. Not a plant or a candle on the doorstep, and the small garden was overgrown with weeds, clearly not looked after since its last tenant. Ms. Raike would be disappointed, Cithius mused. Oh well, it wasn’t as if his own garden was doing much better. Just a plot of dirt, after having ripped up his mother’s garden when it died a few seasons ago.
Cithius’ pulled the cards and his pipe out, and leaving the tin with the spices and tobacco in his pocket. Gripping them in his right hand, he stepped past the neglected garden and tapped his left fist on the door, noticing the knocker as he did so, he had always enjoyed the little good luck animals that each knocker had. When the door opened, he held up his pipe and cards with his right hand and grinned.
“I’m your neighbor, Cithius. Welcome to Lhavit.”
