It is all crystal clear before my eyes... (open)

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It is all crystal clear before my eyes…

Part I…

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Dorvan Market, Tradantum, Imperia
The Second Day of Triabil, 45 Year of Her Reign

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It had been some time since Oronius Vesmit had ventured from his cabin in the woods of Imperia to the great walled city of Tradantum. Then he had been in a suit of nearly flawless enchanted armor and had acted upon the call to arms he had taken up years before. He had been a younger man then, a captain in the Imperial Guard; young and able bodied. It had been a simple time. There hadn’t been any major wars in Solabren in thousands of years, and mainly he had dealt with the tidings of a usual officer; leading companies to deal with bandit or civil uprisings, humanitarian efforts, that sort of thing. Nearing the end of his career he had married his wife, and she had bore him a son before she had departed this plain of existence. A certain sadness traced her thought, and he dared not remember her name. Her name was only pain.

Acastus, his son, was fifteen now, and Oron had been retired for at least a decade, he thought. He looked down at the slight bulge of his stomach. That is what happened, he thought, when you left the army, ate too well, and didn’t really have to work very hard for your own survival. He had left Tradantum with enough coin to make a rather comfortable home in the wilds of Imperia, and that’s exactly what he had done. Aside from the usual labors of home up keep, life had been easy.

Save, he supposed, for the battle with the witch some three years ago. That had been a miserable adventure.

Dorvan market was booming with life today. The sun was up, the wind was warm and sweeping away the cool of the Triabil nights, and Oron was feeling good. It was a good day. His boots clacked lazily on the cobblestone pathway as he moved about the streets of the great city, and it did not take him long to see what appeared to be a young woman down by a stream washing the edge of her dress. It was an odd site to him, for whatever reason. Certainly not what he had thought he would see in the market.

”Miss…how is it that a lady who appears as graceful as you has gotten mud on her dress in a place like this?” He asked, pulling at the lower hem of his tunic to straight out the uncomfortable bunches it was making under his arms. There was a moment where he almost regretted talking to her; she was so much younger than he was. She’d probably just think he was another dirty old man looking to pick up a young beautiful trophy wife…

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Ignisa did not look over to see who was speaking, and neither did she feel the need to. She merely continued to dangle her feet over the river's edge enjoy the feeling of the water playing about her toes and the fish nibbling at her nails. The spring wind tossed about her hair, lingering a moment in greeting before moving on the harass a nearby tree and blowing half its newly grown leaves to the ground. Ignisa chuckled in appreciation of the wind's antics before deciding to be polite and answer the question.

"This pretty lady has gotten mud in her dress by deciding to appreciate life in the snow whilst deciding to forget the snowmelt would produce mud." Ignisa murmured, her voice as musical as the wind that tugged at her dress and stirred the depths of the waters, as soft as the muted gurgle of the waters that trickled in the stream. Turning to look at her companion, she saw an aging man, clad in simple clothes and boots, staring at her with some curiousity and puzzlement.

Ignisa had not met him before. But she hoped that he was certainly not looking for a new wife.

"I have children." Ignisa said, her voice quiet so as to not embarress the two of them with plain spoken words. If he was indeed looking at her for a potential wife, hopefully this man was smart enough to take the hint. Well, if he wasn't, hopefully he wasn't too insulted by her question that he would stalk off in a huff. Ignisa did indeed appreciate some company, as long as it was the right sort of company.

As the Matron of House Aravell and currently widowed, there were still some men, young and vigorous, who tried to court and woo her to their side. Ignisa was not impressed by their antics and had told many of them so to their face. She would risk offending them and their houses and families, no matter how powerful, if they were not considerate of her children and her feelings. There were those who thought that women were not suited to lead a Noble House as magically powerful and esteemed as House Aravell. Ignisa had proved them wrong on every count and had taken great pleasure in doing so. Although she did indeed feel a bit of guilt for needling those idiots in the ass. But then again, they deserved it.

She looked at the old man. Was he a passing stranger? Or was he to be lumped together in the same category as those idiots?

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To say Oron was taken aback by the ladies reaction was an understatement. Speechless and somewhat put off by the entire thing, he took a step back and just glared at her, unsure what to think about her statement, ”I have children”. His first thought was to fire back with a smart ass comment; not to be mean, but just because the thought was funny. As a former army officer, however, he had been taught how to be chivalrous and professional. The comment was not at all the route he knew he should walk, and thus he kept it to himself.

He waited a moment, eyeing the woman and thinking about what he should say, but nothing came to mind. Uncertainty was replaced by awkwardness, and finally Oronius found himself taking his leave.

”I’ll take my leave then.”[/b] He said with a smile, turning back toward the market. ”Have a good day, madam.”[/b]

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