Autumn Harvest, Shredder’s Day 2, Year of the Lion number 427; August 30, 1738 Agathon
I’m not sure if it’s that the country is still in mourning, or maybe we just weren’t in top form. Our first performance in Casozali was decently attended, but the next three shows had fewer and fewer people in the audience.
Lena did her best to promote us. However, it seemed as though a dark cloud shrouded the town and no one wanted to leave their homes. The few that did only did so out of necessity.
This morning, Alani and I rested on the beach and watched the tide roll in. I’m not a fan of getting wet, but I allowed the briny water to wash between my toes, enjoying the warmth and grit against my tired soles. Alani and I talked about trivial things. Mostly, she asked me about my family and clan mates. I asked her a few questions, but she seemed to avoid them for the most part.
Tomorrow morning we leave Casozali and head to Portville. Another country, another city, another culture. Lena says they aren’t much different, but they won’t be dealing with the death of their king and all that.
Such as it is.
Once again I take out my dragon card. I feel its icy coldness send chills through my body. It’s familiar, but still strange. I’m thinking it’s time for me to trade it for something else, but I have no idea what I’d want instead. Lena has taught me a bit about the value of things, and even though this card has no practical value that I can discern, it’s a one-of-a-kind artifact that, if we find the right person, we could trade it for a lot of coin; hundreds, maybe thousands, of gold pieces. I have no idea what I’d do with all that money. Perhaps I could find a way to help the farm workers. I don’t think Lena would be receptive to the idea, though. She’d say something like, “Orphans had no choice in how they got that way. Those farm workers chose their lot in life and if they want out of it, they’d find a way.” Perhaps she’s right. Who am I to judge?
Previous: Through a Cat’s Eyes – 7.3