(6 Imaerasta 5115, The Island)
The Frontier Days Festival ended the night before. She knew her visit in the Landing was nearing an end, as well the time at the Island. It had been a fun time during the busy Festival celebrations. She picked up a new winter coat, some sandals, collected some ideas for the wedding, made new friends, and cherished old ones. It was quite the successful celebration for her – for the most part. Oh! And her new little black dress; that was quite the score, too. Even if she had no shoes to wear with it. Yet.
She had wept over the wyrdling – again. And yes, there were several awkward moments as she pretended to not notice a man to avoid another ugly scene. The noise in town was loud, and the bustling pace that everyone kept startled her. She had forgotten all these things in the respite and beauty of life in the Shining City. Yet, the Landing was full of life, and full of friends.
The crowded merchant gatherings were always a source of amazement to her. How a crowded room or street corner could get that well mannered and quiet for that amount of time seemed quite the marvel. Well, except for the murder that one night…
She shared some of her favorite songs with friends old and new, to impromptu concerts with crowds in various places around town. She loved to surprise people with a song, that never changed wherever she was in Elanthia.
The quiet times at the Shrine of Dreams, the Museum, the Island, and some of her other favorite places kept the bardess’ soul focused and tuned into the inspirations she needed when she came west.
She listened to the songs of so many items, most of them fresh out of Duskruin. The variety of treasures was surprising. Some people took back better news than expected. Others accepted their new treasure back to their hands with less than they hoped. She never tired of loresinging, even when faced with a backpack full of song candidates.
But as she made ready the final preparations to leave, she became a little emotional. Thankfully the clerk at the Mover’s Office asked nothing about her leaking eyes, and the bank teller did not even look up to complete the transaction.
She should ask if that would be the last trip of the season to the Island. But she was afraid of the answer. She absolutely cherished the times they camped there. The talks, the walks, on the beach, sleeping under the stars; it was always idyllic.
“Storms come with the Fall,” he had explained. “The island is not safe at all then.”
She sighed – but there were so many more seasons that lay before them. She was being over emotional.
She looked up at the Colossus as they crossed the river on the ferry and realized she had not visited the silent guardian.
“Next time, my Lord. I will bring you a gift,” she thought at the statue with a nod. A promise made, even to a monument of stone, is binding.
There was a fresh breeze off the Dragonspine as they stepped onto the shore, and she shook off the melancholy. She was going home. With Aetheri. Music awaited her bidding and the grace and calm of Ta’Illistim beckoned her.