60 Zi’da 716
It had only been two trials since their ships had docked off the Orm’del sea at Ne’haer. The place was unfamiliar to her and built nothing like Rharne. Whereas Rharne was built like a pyramid, with each level climbing higher up the rung of status, Ne’haer was a sprawling city built almost entirely out of white-washed and pale gray stone. Even the city’s walls were made of this stone. The only thing the two cities had in common were that they were surrounded by farmlands. Rei had hear tales that there were settlements beyond the walls, the closest only six trials by foot.She had taken up residence in The Golden Flask along with Patrick. It was a simple inn, once believed to be the home of a famous scholar. She had taken up residence in room number seven, one of its walls bordering the stairwell. Unfortunately, she could often hear the tromp of people’s feet as they came and went from the common room below. For the first two trials of her arrival, she had spent the time alone in her room sleeping, only coming out to eat or drink when she was hungry and thirsty.
Today, she had decided she was rested enough to get up and go explore the city. While walking the streets, she noticed a beautiful garden that seemed otherworldly and out of place against the backdrop of the city of stone. The greenery was lush and the flower colors were rich and blooming even in the chill of Zi’da. Today she had dressed in a wine colored pleated shirt and her pale yellow blouse, using her blue coat from Wendell to keep warm. She had on grey stockings and fur-lined knee boots.
She found a bench somewhere and thought of Wendell and where he might be. The Arbiter had been seen at the docks among the chaos, but the ship had been unmanned when they had searched it. She missed him deeply and her chest hurt whenever she thought of her longing for him.
A shy little boy and his mother came strolling through, hand in hand. He plucked a beautiful rose before slinking up to her and gifting her with it. She smiled at him and thanked him with a kiss on top of his head. He had ran off, red-faced and embarrassed. The gift struck her and reminded her of the hum of stories in the common room at the Flask. People had spoken of a woman with a garland crown decorated with flashy baubles or tiny presents. She was a bringer of gifts. Saoire, they called her. She had never really prayed before, but as she sat there, she sent a silent prayer up to the woman, hoping to find guidance in how to pass along such an innocent and loving act.
