Clumsy, that's the impression this person gives me. Amidst a mountain of books, he lay buried, snoring like a contented bear, a comically oversized bump decorating his forehead. Yet, there he was, chatting away as if nothing was amiss, wearing that foolish grin that screamed obliviousness. I couldn't help but stare, dumbfounded by the spectacle before me.
"Good afternoon, I'm Mervin," he introduces himself, still giggling.
"Hello, I'm looking for the owner. Do you know where he is?" I inquire.
"I am the owner," he said adding, "how can I help you, lady?"
'this one is the owner?' I was astounded. "Umm..do you have books about the black forest?"
"Wow..are you also interested in that forest?" he asked, much to my anticipations." Do you know that the black..." Saying he started his going on and on. 'Did I just flip his bulldozer button?!' my left eye twitch in stress 'the pressure he is giving off.. should I just leave?'
"Just wanted to know, that's all," I said hesitantly.
"Come with me," saying that he led me, and following him, we came to the reception room. "Here," the table right around the corner was full of numerous books. "You can choose whichever you like."
"Can't you suggest me some?" I request his assistance.
"If I may, these three books are best of all; they contain much more details than the rest," he said as he handed me those.
"Well, then ring them up," I said.
"By the way, lady. Have you ever been there?" to my surprise, he asked. Without answering him, I just kept looking at him. Nervously, he said, "Just wanted to know. You see, I have never been there. I always fantasize about it." excitement filled his eyes. Taking note of his obsession with the black forest, I immediately stopped him on his track, "me too, never been there," I replied.
"Oh," feeling dejected, he said.
After finishing business with the bookstore owner, I returned to the mansion. As I rode the carriage, I looked outside the window and saw the sky was painted red, orange, and yellow, like an artist's canvas. The sun was gradually setting as if waving goodbye to Earth-mother as darkness was cast all over the sky.
It was a breathtaking view I saw; my heart was pounding so loudly that I felt so free and alive.
-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-
Ivan
The carriage stopped at the mansion door, Ivan waiting for her at the door front. Getting no response from the person inside, he opens the carriage door only to find Arya sleeping like a baby.
"O my, lady," Miya said; she tried to reach out when Ivan stopped her.
Gently, he picked her up, and not wanting to wake her, he held her close to hisheart. "mmmhhh...mmhn.." she groaned, and he stopped at his track. He looks at her, and a faint smile appears on his lips. He loosened his hold on her so as not to hurt her. 'she's so fragile that I could break her with simple strength,' he thought to himself.
Every servant gasph at seeing them. Slowly, he put her down on the bed with such care as if she were his most precious treasure. Like a lapidarist, caring about his most valued possession, he has mastered as he puts the jade down with the utmost care.
That night, Arya slept soundly. As the morning arrived, the sun's rays entered her room, brightening the whole room. Waking up, she thought, yesterday she had the weirdest dream, yet the feeling was so warm and fuzzy. She felt the presence of someone holding her, carrying her; the grip was not tight or stiff. It was light and full of care. The warmth she felt was so tender, full of affection; she had never thought like that.
Even if it was a dream, she cherished those memories, kept locked in the case of her heart deep inside.
"Morning, my lady. " Miya came and greeted me. She pulled the curtains back, and sunlight came through the window.
"Miya, bring my breakfast into the room and prepare it near the window." It's the start of a beautiful day.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Arya
In the library...
I was reading the book about the four ancient beasts, but it sometimes kept bothering me.
Sofia kept her gaze glued on me, but when I turned to her, she would hide her face with a book or pretend to look sideways. Her intense gaze felt like it could pierce the back of my head.
'if you have something to say...just say it already,'...sigh.
'Well, I'm sure she will come around after giving her some time. Let's see what the book says' Ignoring her, I continue my search.
In the dawn of time, when the world was young and untamed, there existed four noble households, each bearing the sacred emblem of an ancient beast, symbols of power and prestige. The royal family, revered as the foremost among them, bore the proud image of the eagle, soaring high and mighty. Alongside them stood the Dragun lineage, embodying the fierce strength of the black dragon, its scales gleaming with dark allure.
Then there was the Basilisk family, named after the dreaded serpent king, its bloodline intertwined with the cunning and venom of the red basilisk. Lastly, the Marquis Amorim family, adorned with the golden turtle, symbolizing longevity and prosperity. Legend whispered that each founding ancestor had been bestowed with divine blessings by the very creatures they honored.
Yet, among these esteemed lineages, none commanded as much awe and fear as the Dragun, for the black dragon was said to be the mightiest of them all. It was an era of upheaval and strife, marked by the echoes of great wars that ravaged the lands. Despite the chaos, the four noble families united, forging bonds of kinship and alliance amidst the turmoil.
From the ashes of conflict rose the grand Azarson Empire, a testament to the strength and resilience of these ancient bloodlines. Together, they built a kingdom that stood as a beacon of civilization, where the echoes of their ancestors' deeds whispered through the halls of history, forever immortalized in the annals of time.
'Hmm... should I read the history of the empire?' Thinking that, I looked at the book but did not try to cause it was too big, and I was too tired.
I got up and went to sit near Sofia. She was startled by my action.
"Say it," I demand, taking the political thesis book from the table.
"Wh-what?" she asked confused.
"You have been gawking at me this whole time." This time, I look right at her face.
Mortified, she looks at the ground, ears red from getting caught; she plays with her finger. "Umm. I h-heard that y-you are mo-moving to the n-north." I patiently wait for her to finish. "So I-i we-wanted to gi-give th-this to you as sho-showing my gra-gratitude." She handed me a small bag, endearingly decorated, with ribbons full of cookies that come in many shapes.
"Thank you," I genuinely thanked her. Ruffling her hair, "Have a nice day," I said as I left.
ווווווו×
Sofia
In those gloomy days of yore, I was always alone in this vast building. My stuttering problem made me the target of ridicule, causing me to fear interactions, especially with peers my age. Yet now, I find solace in solitude, surrounded by these captivating books brimming with adventure.
Nevertheless, there are moments when I yearn for the companionship of another soul, a fleeting desire to share thoughts and experiences with someone.
As always, I was engrossed in my daily routine when an unexpected visitor shattered the walls I had meticulously built over the years. It was none other than the fabled Lady Arya, whose presence seemed to radiate beauty and grace, akin to a refreshing spring breeze or the comforting warmth of autumn sunshine. I was mesmerized by her presence, stunned into silence.
Summoning my courage, I attempted a greeting, only to be thwarted by the familiar grip of my stutter. Panic surged within me as I feared her judgment. Closing my eyes in dismay, I braced myself for her reaction.
To my astonishment and relief, Lady Arya did not mock or recoil from my stutter. Instead, she graciously began to explore her surroundings, her actions speaking volumes of her character and kindness. With each passing moment, the walls of apprehension I had erected slowly began to crumble, replaced by a glimmer of hope for genuine connection.
Intrigued, I trailed behind her and observed as she delved into a tome detailing the exploits of the black dragon, engrossed in its contents from cover to cover.
Approaching tentatively, I ventured to inquire about her thoughts on the book, only to receive a simple response: she merely wished to immerse herself in its pages, nothing more.
As she turned her attention to me, probing about the library's management, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious under her scrutiny, averting my gaze in embarrassment. Her subsequent directive to gather books left me flustered in her wake.
Later that day, as servants converged upon the library, a white-haired maid extended a letter into my trembling hands.
The lady's considerate gesture of assigning servants to aid with the library filled my heart with a comforting warmth, a rare sensation in my solitary world.
In her frequent visits to the library, I found solace in her company. Her patient demeanor and unwavering acceptance made me feel seen and valued, like any other person.
When news of her impending departure reached me, a wave of sadness washed over me. The prospect of losing the one person with whom I felt a genuine connection left me despondent. Days stretched into an agonizing wait, her absence casting a shadow over my days.
Then, like a beacon of hope, her familiar footsteps echoed through the halls, dispelling the gloom that had settled within me. As she settled into her routine of exploring the pages of ancient beast lore, I yearned to convey my reluctance to see her leave, yet found myself unable to muster the courage.
Instead, I offered her a modest gift, a small token of my appreciation. Her smile in response illuminated my world, infusing it with a warmth that transcended words.
In that moment, as her warmth enveloped me, I couldn't help but marvel at her genuine kindness. She was more than just a visitor; she was a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that warmth and compassion could be found even in the most unexpected of places.
'She is such a warm person…'
______•°•°•°•______
Marvin Pitter
A bookstore owner
In his twenties
Dirty blonde hair
Teakwood colour eyes
Warning:-
No talk about the black forest
A friend of Arya (in future)
______•°•°•°•°•______