#decided i wanna write so here comes a tarot series on the fantasy world 2.0

[trashbinbackyard]

0 - The fool

A journal entry of an unknown author, written in code.

I have been thinking. Of time, and we as a people have always been the same. The child from 400 years ago would cling to her mothers hem the same way the children accompanying their parents in the grand bazaar would today. People have felt the overwhelming joy of love, the heartbreak of loss, and keep mementos of their dearest ones. 

Truly, most of my discoveries on dig sites have been little glimpses into the life of the ordinary, the forgettable people who have come before us. Of course, these aren’t considered finds worthy of grand research or public acclaim, and I feel like people outside of my field do not find comfort and appreciation of the ordinary. It is my duty to acknowledge them, and to remember them, so wherever they might be, they shall find comfort that their lives, no matter how small, had meaning.

So, a little prelude to what happened today.

Grand people come few and far between, a single king or queen could define an entire century, and in their shadow, would be the ordinary, toiling away, forgotten.

The many wise men and women before me have given our era of life, the name “Second age” after the astonishing event known as the Rapture, it is believed to be the source of our magic, and its very nature, but nothing beyond that was widely known. That was until I met him. 

To the clergy he was more precious than anything, a relic in his own right. He had accurately called me out for snooping in the archives of the grand temple, under the altar for Sune. At first I didn’t realize who exactly I was speaking to, and frankly I was a little on edge. A tall elven man dressed in all black stood behind me from where I was reading some tomes. I couldn’t really make out details in the dim light.

“You’re an inquisitive one,” I remember him saying, in a tone that I found quite pleasant, not accusatory, nor aggressive, curious, even.

I let my mouth get the better of me and babbled on and on about the many fields of research I’ve dabbled in, and that my current interests lie in the first age, that I was very close to finding out where a great lord used to have a winter estate, and that the according to the historians, he was great patron of arts. Oh to just think of it leaves me giddy, to see all the art collected by someone from that age, what time defining pieces would he have, what they would tell me about the lives of the people, what they appreciate, valued, revered, what they found appealing.

At that point I’m sure I had rambled on for so long, the man had started leaning against a wall with what I assume was his best attempt at a polite look, hiding his boredom. I'm sure he had seen and heard things much more magnificent than an art collection.

He was very gracious in his listening, and In fact offered for me to come meet him at his estate. Which brings me to today.

The estate address I was given was in the Pera district, on the other side the grand river from where I resided, the location quite idyllic, on the tall hill near the shore. The manor itself didn’t stand out, a three story building of light sandstone, no names on the door, nor the street.

I walked in like the man had instructed me to do. A tressym greeted me as I nearly stumbled on the poor thing. It kept vocalizing and rubbing against my legs for a while, which would’ve been the highlight of my day if not for the revelations to come. It hopped up the flight of stairs soon after, looking at me 

Seeing no one else, I assumed I was meant to follow the tressym, so I did. It led me to a terrace between the second and third floor. A tea set had been laid out, three chairs around a circle table. The view on the balcony was one of the best I’ve witnessed in Nia Vasileos.

Turns out I wasn’t the only one admiring the view. The man who had invited me here stood leaning against the balcony railing, his ear twitched at the sound of my footsteps and I knew he had noticed me entering.

He turned to greet me, and now in the broad daylight (which was a beautiful, sunny day), I could see him better, still dressed in all black. His black hair was long and straight, with white roots, a scar crossed his brow, his eyes… an impossible shade of bright orange, like fire burning. I got a little uneasy to be fairly honest. Now, there was an air of something grander, something ancient around us. I was looking history in the eyes.

He was very polite, despite the immense power he held. He had set up an afternoon tea for us, he let me know that he had followed me around for much longer than I would think, that I was an “interesting person” to know. And that I may ask him anything I wanted to know, but he held onto his right to not necessarily answer.

We had the most delightful conversation. I asked him about the first age, how old was he, what were his favorite things from the first age, are there others like him?

He entertained all of my questions, even the silly small ones, in the midst of taking sips of the perfectly brewed black tea. 

The tressym had curled up the third chair, and he would occasionally give it a few scritches, I asked about it, he said it was his partner’s, now, he hadn’t really given me a straight answer when I asked if there’s is any more people… or beings, like him. I would assume someone beyond the reach of time would be… lonely. 

He gave a laugh and shook his head, “oh believe me, it is a lonely existence, but at least I can share it with someone”, he would turn his head to the sea, “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure how many of us there are, the world is a large place after all”.

I followed his gaze to the sea. The scenery, the very moment, was idyllic, the gentle lap of the waves against the cliffside under us, the occasional whistle of the boats passing us by, the cheerful screams of children jumping off the cliffs into the warm water below.

A gentle breeze blew through my hair, through his hair, and I turned to look back at him, waiting if he had anything else to say still.

“A little too large.” He said, with a hint of melancholy in his voice, “But you still have time, enough to see a lot of it, should you wish”.

#decided i wanna write so here comes a tarot series on the fantasy world 2.0 #unnamed narrator #no proofreading we cringe like men #turn up next week for the magician #armed asshats #tarot series