The Winds of the Past [Rune Factory 4]

Chapter 75

I hadn’t yet had much opportunity to walk in the dense rainforest that shrouded those hills, so I enjoyed doing so now. The wealth of smells, sights, and sounds were like a feast to my senses: damp, dark earth, rich with leaf mould; the perfumes of a thousand colorful tropical flowers and fruits; the green scent of growing things; animal scents and sounds; the buzzing of insects; the chatter of rainbow-colored birds;  vines cascading from huge tree limbs like living green waterfalls; and now and again, a glimpse of cerulean sky gleaming through the gaps in the verdant canopy above.

We strolled along the path, which meandered uphill and down, but never with a lengthy or steep incline. All in all, it was a lovely walk, and I was almost sorry to see it end. That is, until I saw the house itself.

Nestled like a brilliant jewel into the emerald green of dense vines and overgrown shrubs was a house, painted the intense blue of a peacock’s breast. Stone steps, overgrown with some tiny, beflowered creeper that had sprung up in the crevices, led up to the front door, which was a work of art in itself. Painted in shades of green, blue, and bronze, it resembled the tip of a peacock feather, with a small round window centered in the eye. The roof, which I saw needed at least a few minor repairs at first glance, was made of curved, overlapping red clay tiles and extended beyond the veranda.

Avani stopped at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the house for a moment before slowly climbing to the front door. She pulled a key from her belt pouch, then unlocked the door and pushed it open.

It was clear that no one had lived in this house for some time, though it seemed that someone had at least cleaned and aired it from time to time. But it had the stale, musty smell of a house that has been left unused for too long, and I felt my nose tickle in response to the fustiness.

“It’s going to take more work than I hoped,” Avani said, sadly, as she looked around. It clearly had been a charming house once, and perhaps could be again with some care and effort. As I went around the house, throwing open doors and windows to let the fresh, clean air in, I wondered what Avani intended to do with it once she’d cleaned it up.

It was smaller than Bhima’s house, yet despite its neglect, it still seemed like a more cheerful, comfortable home. Downstairs was a small entry, a modest kitchen, a bathing room with a tiny water closet in it, and a large sitting-dining room, with cushion-filled alcoves lining the walls and a low table surrounded by more cushions in the middle of the floor. Upstairs, there was just two bedrooms of moderate size.

When I returned downstairs after opening the bedroom doors and windows, I found Avani had stepped out back. I joined her as she looked around a small, badly overgrown yard, surrounded by mango trees and pomegranate shrubs. Her eyes were sorrowful, and she appeared to be searching for something.

“Are you looking for something?” I asked as I walked up to her. “Can I help?”

She shook her head slowly. “No, not really. I was just remembering…. This is where he kept his peacocks. I wonder what became of them after… after he died. He only had the one pair left by then. He’d had a pair of green peacocks, too, but… but Bhima killed them. As a warning, to us both.” She shivered, rubbing her arms vigorously as if suddenly chilled. “I suppose when he didn’t come back, they returned to the wild. I was just hoping…. I guess I was hoping to find some trace of them. Or really, of him. But… there’s nothing. Nothing left of him at all here. Only memories.” Tears began to trickle down her cheeks as she stared intently into the branches of the trees, then she turned and walked slowly towards the house as I followed.

After just a few steps, she suddenly stopped and exclaimed as she leaned down, peering at something in the tall grass. When she stood, she held a small white feather in her fingertips. She looked at me, surprised by her find, and I saw it was a small, white peacock feather. She looked at it again, and shrugged. “I wonder where this came from?” she asked. “Sundara’s been gone for six years now, and he never kept white peafowl here.”