[Solo] Candles in the Dark

Edward brings in the new arc with old friends

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Edward Glass
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Posts: 6
Joined: Thu Mar 03, 2022 12:17 am
Race: Human
Renown: 0
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[Solo] Candles in the Dark

1 Cylus, 722 AV

“Hey Ed, the candles?”

“On it, Phil,” Edward Glass said, hopping from the stool. They intercepted one another in the crowded center of the restaurant, one nod of thanks and a tinderbox exchanged, before Phil’s growing host of concerns pulled him elsewhere on the floor of the Boar’s Head Inn. Edward adjusted his trajectory to the exterior wall, where a wide mix of candles in all shapes and colors decorated the wooden windowsills. Behind them, darkness was held at bay by a thin sheet of glass, and even after he struck flint against steel to light the tallow-stained wick it remained. Of course, that was not point, was it? The candles served those out there, in the dark, not those who had already found respite within. A flickering beacon of hope in the long night.

Down the wall Edward crept, leaving behind him a twinkling expanse of orange flames, repeating the process on the adjacent wall on the south side of the space. He felt the eyes of guest on his back as he worked, curiosity mingling with pity. A dangerous cocktail that tasted of ruination if he ever allowed himself to succumb, but tonight Edward was not thirsty. No, The Passing had given way The Year’s Dawn, a time of progress and promise, not of somber self-reflection, so he kept his eyes forward, watching the snowflakes smack against the glass from the safety of this warm interior.

One room complete. Edward repacked the tinderbox as he ducked through the two-way door into the kitchen that intersected the Boar’s two dining wings. It swung shut behind him, replacing the multitude of stares with but a single, familiar glance. Pidgor Mudz flashed a gap-filled smile. “Candles?” he asked.

“Aye, candles.” Edward replied, nodding. The kitchen was windowless, lit only by torches ringing the wall, but a fresh candle sat within his reach on the edge of the island to his right. The rich smell of pork in various stages of preparation filled the cramped space, setting his senses ablaze. After, he told himself, lighting the wick with a deft strike across the steel, before moving on to the western ring. Pidgor had already moved the candle to sit atop the stove by the time the second door swung shut.

Like the passing of the sun, the east dining wing was a quiet rise and the west a raucous set. Phil had moved behind the bar to help Ken serve drinks, no time to put a face to any particular arm in the wall of appendages. Al and his on-and-off-again bandmates had set up in the southwest corner, a tuned addition to the overall cacophony. Edward continued his pilgrimage, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces and humming Al’s anthems to himself when left unnoticed. His circuit carried him around the room until he reached the stairs. No windows in the basement, so Edward ascended instead, sparing the tavern floor one last glance from between the hog-motif balusters.

A willing prisoner looking through self-imposed bars, if any of the regulars had taken notice and were feeling poetic this eve.

The second story loft was uncharacteristically empty tonight, the usual patrons opting to linger downstairs where food and ale were within easy reach. The pungent smell of tobacco clouded about Edward as he slowly moved closer to the door on the far wall, lighting the space in similar fashion as he had done below. Only then did he allow his feet to follow the directions of his nose, crossing the loft and stepping through the door into the smoke room.

A pair of candles sat in the windowsill already alight, casting thin streaks of smoke that paled in comparison to the pipe smoke hanging in the dim ceiling like a looming storm. The conversation stuttered for the briefest of moments as Edward entered, before resuming without hesitation as he crossed the room to take a seat in a high backed chair proportionate to his size and an ashtray built into the arm with initials ‘EG’ barely visible, accepting a proffered pipe from the eldest gentleman as he passed.

“Flavor of the evening, Nes?” Edward asked, lighting the packed tobacco with one final crash of flint and steel.

“An Old Dynaash dark and talks of our hopes and dreams,” Nesen replied, smoke leaking from his lips with each word. “Both courtesy of Caius.”

The lone Ithecal in the room nodded, his own pipe dwarfed by his reptilian jaws. “I think of home,” Caius said.

“May home give you the same attention, friend,” Edward replied, reaching a hand off to pat the top of Caius’ own. He barely covered half the scaly surface. “At the very least, I am happy to have you in my own home for the night.”

“Phil’s home, you mean,” Hiza interjected, her words broken up with phlegmy-chuckles. “Rats do not get to claim ownership just because they’ve made a nest in the larder.”

The room broke into a chorus of coughs and chortles, the loudest of which came from Edward Glass. “I’d say being willing to bunk with Pidgor is worth at least a minority stake in any venture.”

More throaty escapes. The conversation paused to allow Hiza to recover from a particularly rough bout of choking coughs.

“Hope, friends,” Caius said, humming the word. “We always allow ourselves to get distracted when Edward and Hiza get going.”

“You know the rules, Caius,” Nesen said, waving a hand. “You set the topic, so you open the floor. Gives us old souls a chance to formulate.”

Edward took a long drag of the pipe as he watched the Ithecal settle back into his chair, wood groaning beneath his weight. A strong strain, he noted, as strong as the men and women who cultivated it in the rocky soil of Dynaash. It all spoke to the answer that Caius had yet to give.

A moment later. “To go home. I have felt . . . called. To return. It has been too long since last I saw my home.”

Edward blew a cloud of smoke, obscuring his blue eyed stare as he gauged the Ithecal’s demeanor. Was it simply homesickness, or something more? The rumors were young, largely incomplete, but rife with a word foreign to his lips. Dragon. Did it feel more familiar to his friend, a world-shaking declaration in the native language of his heart? Or did Edward have to settle for coincidence coined by a mint who only knew heads, not tails?

Edward sighed, finding Caius’ stony expression too difficult to read. Still, the attempt was necessary.

“I hope that this is my last pipe,” Hiza said, between pulls on the stem.

“You say that every year,” Edward replied, inserting himself again before any took note of his scrutinizing moments earlier.

“Aye, but this year’s the year,” Hiza said, forcibly setting the pipe aside as if to punctuate her words. “Little Benjamin has gone and grown up right beneath my nose, found himself a nice girl from Korlasair. I’m to be his dance now that Lizzy’s gone.”

“But never forgotten,” Edward intoned, echoed by Nesen and Caius. A life lost in the Claypans, to gain the Empire a bit more land in exchange for an empty space in the wedding portraits.

“A noble sacrifice, Hiza,” Nesen replied, coughing into a handkerchief he kept perpetually balled in his fist. Even in the dim lighting, Edward noticed the blood flecks soaking into the tan cloth. “I’d say I would do the same, but I believe I’m too late in that regard. Guess my hope, then, is to burn from the inside out first, before they do me in vice versus”

Silence stretches between the four gathered, until Edward finally snorted. “Serves me right, keeping the company of a homesick snake, a sobering crone, and a dying man. Blink, and I’m alone, with but Pidgor’s rat traps lurking in the corners looking to make my acquaintance.”

This elicited the loudest laughs of all.

The group carried on into the night, reminiscing on old conversation and ignoring their respective futures for the time being. Caius, the earliest riser of the bunch, turned in first, leaving behind a pouch of the pipe tobacco as a gift to those who still intended to partake in the cycles to come. Some time later, Hiza departed as well, but not before stealing a pinch of the dark for the road. Old habits died hard, indeed. Leaving Nesen and Edward, and a few breaks before a dawn that would not reveal itself on the Cylus morn.

Sometime later, Nesen pushed himself to his feet, pausing at his full height while coughs wracked his thin frame. “You never gave us your hopes, Ed,” he said, finally.

Edward shrugged, dumping the cold ash from his pipe into the tray. “Because it would be no different this arc as any other. I hope to be comfortable, friend, and safe.”

Edward’s voice never wavered, but for the briefest moments his heart did. Did he really believe that any longer? He had felt a growing discontentment within himself, stifled but for the briefest moments of escape. Was this exile finally drawing to a close, or did he have a few more arcs in him still?

If Nesen picked up on Edward’s inner turmoil, he did not speak to it. He sighed. “Guess that’s to no surprise. If you change your mind, though,” the old man said as he made his way to the door, “they’re going to bury me between Jane and Caroline, outside the city. A honor, mind you, to have your first and second loves within reach, but they’ll be times still that I miss my old friends.” When Nesen turned to face Edward, he could see tears forming in the corners of his wrinkled eyes. “You’ll come to see me, right, Ed?”

If the first lie pulled at Edward’s heart, the second broke it. He forced a smile through his own pain and nodded. “Of course I will, Nes. It’ll be the first thing I do.” Edward reached up to wipe the moisture away. “When my courage returns.”

The two men hold the stare for a few moments longer, before breaking away. Turning away, Nesen spoke his next words into the open doorway as he made his exit. “See you tomorrow, Ed.”

“Aye, tomorrow then, Nes.”

Edward gave the old man enough time to make his way downstairs before he sighed, blew the candles out, and made his way to his small room on the top floor of the Boar's Head Inn, to sleep away the somber early morning breaks.
word count: 1805

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Avalon
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Joined: Tue Dec 15, 2020 8:23 pm
Race: Prophet
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Re: [Solo] Candles in the Dark

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Name: Edward

Points awarded: 10

Knowledge:
Deception: Pairing body language with a lie to make it more believable
Deception: A white lie can comfort just as well as it can harm
Detection: The distinct scent of tobacco
Discipline: Ignoring stares
Psychology: Determining causes of one's homesickness
Psychology: Reading bodily cues to ascertain a person's motivations

Renown: 5 (This nice little meet had enough npcs in attendance for a little renown)

Skill Review: Skills written to level

Notes:

Hello, hello! This is my first Edward thread, so I was very excited to read it and understand this new character. I confess - I had to run and catch up on all things EE because I'm not very familiar with things there. I did my homework and am impressed how you started using appropriate terminology right out of the gate! I had no clue about "The Passing" or "The Year's Dawn."

Let me start with the fact that you are a fantastic writer. The way you craft sentence structure is stellar, not to mention wording choices. You put the reader in the room with your character and made the setting come alive. Well done!

This is a fantastic read, subject-wise. The little get-together that you describe has intriguing dialogue and npcs, although subtly, you keep the focus on Edward. It's a tricky balance, but you did great.

I do really like the subject - hope. This was tightly written with beautiful interactions. It was the perfect backdrop for the scene, all of them speaking of theirs.

I enjoyed this read very much, and look forward to more threads with this pc! :D


Avalon


word count: 277
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