Pestilence || Ongoing ||

01: City Life

Twelfth of Highsun, 4E18

My name is Frevus Threi, and I live in Mesomotha, the heart of the nation. I found a bound leather book in the market today, and reasoned that I had some spare earnings, so I've begun a journal; a log, if you will. There has been a stir in the streets as of late, whispers of an oncoming war. Of factions and fighting over territories. I live in the east of Veoversella, which lands me in Seasblaze territory, or so I am told.
Michael shows no interest in these discussions of hostility, in fact he is rather dismissive of it. Michael is my boyfriend, and he works as a merchant, selling arms and shields. He is a brilliant craftsman, I tell him repeatedly. He never listens. He is a modest man, and would take a sword to the gut rather than admit he had a semblance of an ego. I have not much of discussion as of late, however, though I have recently been pondering the option of living a more adventurous life, beyond the enclosing walls of the domestic city. As wretched as it may sound, perhaps the conflict shall bring some excitement to my life. The Maker knows I need it. I do not dislike everything I have built here in Mesomotha, but one can only live the same day so many times before it bores them...

I set my gaze out of the window, being met with a bright morning, as usual for weather in the east. I sip at my tea absently, looking around the quaint room. The light buzz of the city fills my ears as I feel an ease come about me. I linger here for a moment, drifting in my own empty thought.

"Farev! I've the newspaper for today!" I hear Michael's voice from the other room, shutting the door behind him and sending a hint of movement through the small flat. He's taken to calling me Farev as of late, he says it is Orcish for favorite or beloved.

"Coming, amar!" I yell in confirmation, pulling on some breeks and throwing on a button-up shirt, without bothering to button it up. I came up with amar to combat 'Farev', more or less to give him a nickname as well. It comes from the ancient elven tongue, amare, amour, and amar, are all different forms of beloved, or to bring joy. I don't think it is too bad, all things considered. I prance into the main room, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and seating myself on the couch and reading the paper.

"Must you dress so barely? Don't you have things to get to to-day?"

"I haven't yet! Besides, I wanted to be with you this morning, and who has time for dressing in such circumstances?"

A giggle escapes his mouth as he sits down next to me, holding my hand in his as we both skim the paper. Most wouldn't expect such a large and intimidating man to be so soft-hearted, to giggle like that, or much less, have feelings at all.

"You do look nice this morning, though Farev," I laugh a little bit before he can finish, "but you didn't hear that from me, luv." He kisses me and continues reading.

"There is not much that interests one in the day's paper," I comment offhandedly after a few minutes, losing my focus. The most exciting thing that had been written was a recent robbery in town.

"A shame." Michael responds, getting to his feet and setting the paper on the shelf nearest the ground underneath the table.

"The city does seem to have gotten rather boring as of late."

"I can understand the monotony. But domestic life has its own charm, farev. Surely you see it, too."

I gaze into his eyes softly for a moment, and my face spreads into a smile without thought. "What life could ever lack charm when shared with you, amar?"

He chuckles a little and slips his arms through his coat. "I love you, farev." He pulls me into a hug, and I plant a kiss on his lips as we part from each other's arms.

"I love you, too. And take care, amar!" He smiles, and closes the door.

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Thirteenth of Highsun, 4E18

I have not much to discuss this dawn. I may begin filling logs in the evenings, however, as it seems to be such a more convenient time to do so. Last night Michael and I saw a play and stayed out rather late. It was nice, and the play was absolutely delightful! I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and I have not slept deeper in a long time once we returned home. Although, I find my mind rather sparse this morning. I shall write once again tomorrow at dusk.

I set the book upon the bedside table and swing my legs over the bed carefully, so as to not wake the sleeping beauty beside me. To-day is Sunday, and so Michael does not work, and we instead dedicate the day to ourselves and the wellbeing of our home. I always enjoy Sundays, for they allow a slow paced and relaxed day of our own accord. I can recall on one occasion, we browsed the market for nearly four hours. we hardly bought a thing, and yet it was such an enjoyable evening.

I shuffle as quietly as I can manage out of the bedroom into the halls that are only scraped with the slightest bit of morning light. I turn a few knobs of the wall to set the oil lamps aflame in the living area, and make my way into the kitchen. I throw the shutters open and feel the cool air stroll in kindly, licking my face and chest. I begin to gather assorted spices and crack various foul eggs.

A steady set of footfalls erupts behind me as Michael clears his throat and leans against the entry wall. I turn to see him there, and smile almost instinctively as my heart floats. "Good morning, hon." I say before returning to the sizzling eggs and pork.

"What might you be making, then, farev?"

"Some eggs and bacon, amar. I figured it simple enough to kick off this nice morning." I look back at him now on the couch, and it only now comes to my attention that he is wearing nothing. A guilty smile escapes to my face as I turn back to the food, averting my attention. "Goodness, you couldn't even bother to dress?"

"Well, you never seem to be so fond of clothing, so why should I? Can I not just be comfortable?" He smiles, amused.

I scoff at him before setting the dishes nicely on their respective plates. I prance over to the couch and present him with his dish, and sit to eat mine. I cannot explain how such hunger came over me, but within but a decim I am all but finished with my meal.

"If I had any worse sight, I may have thought you were a starving boar with how heartily you ate, farev." Michael says, amused.

"Well, we musn't spend so much time idling about! The festival is being held today at the square, and I insist: we must go." I get to my feet and bring my dishes into the kitchen, setting them on the wooden counter to attend to at a later time. "And you have got to dress appropriately for it, amar." I say, pointing my still dirty fork at him accusingly. I cannot keep up my strict facade for long however, as he does not react whatsoever. I begin to laugh before turning away out of embarrassment. I cannot see amar, but I can still feel him smiling. He sighs.

"Fine." He lifts himself from the couch and strides towards me. "I'll dress." He pulls me into a hug before turning to our quarters and closing the door. I smile deeply, feeling my cheeks burn up, as I bring my palms to cover my red face.
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