In a world where everything seems perfectly logical and pragmatic. The thought of anything existing outside of the realm of what one already knows seems impractical.
That is how Melinda Morrison sees life.
The very life where she has shared nearly e...
Flowers and balloons lift up against the orange sky.
There was just something about the Mageocracy of Cluyze that was so familiar. Not in the sense that the warm air, palm trees, clothing, and food were reminiscent of characteristics of various places and countries on earth, but more so in the fact that the energy of this place reminded me of being here before.
Though I don't ever recall ever stepping foot in this empire until we got on the boat from Vesneau. Yet, I couldn't help but be lulled into a sense of comfortability and serenity whenever the pink sun's rays grazed my skin or when I could hear the near-distant sounds of the waves crashing ashore, or the vibrant energy of the city as people went about their daily routines preparing for the upcoming festivals.
It felt like home.
My time here thus far had been so enjoyable and as a result, our trip was extended a couple more weeks. I wasn't necessarily against the extension, because our home nation was so vast and large that it would be criminal to say that we could see most things in a month. Our family was so kind and patient in taking us around bordering cities and towns to show us the very things that made Cluyze what it was. We viewed sparkling and glistening waterfalls with intense rushing waters that pooled at the bottom of the lake and resembled very much what the galaxy of stars looked like in my memories it was enchanting.
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There were more quaint towns with their own dialects, the styling of clothing, and scenery. Lots of small boats pulled through and from canals and spaces like in Venice; their buildings also were shorter in comparison to the city where buildings were nearly towering and grand to make an impression. It was a contrast that was intriguing to follow wherever we stopped to look next.
When we returned from those mini sight-seeing trips, our aunt and uncle officially threw us a welcome party—what they said was overdue on their party. They invited the highest of nobility to attend and the event in itself was opulent; no expense was spared when it came to decor, food, music, performances, and gifts.
Being introduced to the upper echelon of Cluyzian society was something to be studied. Nothing much changed in behavior in how rich people behaved, you had the snooty and pretentious individuals who tooted their noses up at things they did not deem worthy, the others who were happy to suck up to make an impression on whoever they believed could provide them an opportunity to elevate themselves, and the more modest individuals whose eyes spoke a million words, but their lips none.
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