Disentanglement - [Luthais, Ouzan]
Apr 13, 2016 9:12:11 GMT
Post by lepapillonrouge on Apr 13, 2016 9:12:11 GMT
In a crowd of other mourners, Ouzan watched as the king's coffin moved closer and closer to his final resting place in Carisca. She wanted to see it just once, as she had just arrived the night before from Nisalvini. News took a few days to get to the troubled island, and traveling there was just as long and delayed as she expected with the Cantish and the Northerners trying to get to Miras. It was a miracle that she was even here today, in her opinion.
Ouzan had never met the king, and she hadn't been in the capital city since she passed by it when she immigrated from Song Lu almost nine years a go, but her grandfather Dion had lived in Miras for decades as a researcher for the Academy of the Arcane. Though he had recovered somewhat from the Ash Fever caused by the black thorn outbreak, Ouzan insisted in going to pay his respects in his steed. She wasn't planning to stay too long, probably two days at most, as she had lots of work to do when she passed by Cantor again. As she passed through the impressive architecture of the city and witnessed the generosity of the capital city's citizens, however, a part of her wished she could stay just a little longer, or that she had come earlier to have a chance to see the King when he was alive.
As the procession passed, she held the small pot of nasturtium she had bought from southern Cantor, suggested by her grandfather as a substitute for Nisalvini's offering to the king. Although glad that the flowers bloomed the day she was at the procession, she had to shield her offering from being torn from the pushing and shoving around in the crowd. As she was trying to find a safer spot for her and her plant, she thought she saw a familiar face in the crowd, an old friend of her grandfather's who still worked at the academy. As discreetly as possible, she maneuvered her way toward him to make sure that it was him, though she thought it was a little odd to greet him at such a solemn time. She just stayed not too far away from him, waiting for a better moment, when she almost dropped the pot when she tripped over something and squeaked like a mouse.
“Goodness,” she muttered, regaining her composure as soon as possible. At least she would be able to drop this the pot off soon enough.
Ouzan had never met the king, and she hadn't been in the capital city since she passed by it when she immigrated from Song Lu almost nine years a go, but her grandfather Dion had lived in Miras for decades as a researcher for the Academy of the Arcane. Though he had recovered somewhat from the Ash Fever caused by the black thorn outbreak, Ouzan insisted in going to pay his respects in his steed. She wasn't planning to stay too long, probably two days at most, as she had lots of work to do when she passed by Cantor again. As she passed through the impressive architecture of the city and witnessed the generosity of the capital city's citizens, however, a part of her wished she could stay just a little longer, or that she had come earlier to have a chance to see the King when he was alive.
As the procession passed, she held the small pot of nasturtium she had bought from southern Cantor, suggested by her grandfather as a substitute for Nisalvini's offering to the king. Although glad that the flowers bloomed the day she was at the procession, she had to shield her offering from being torn from the pushing and shoving around in the crowd. As she was trying to find a safer spot for her and her plant, she thought she saw a familiar face in the crowd, an old friend of her grandfather's who still worked at the academy. As discreetly as possible, she maneuvered her way toward him to make sure that it was him, though she thought it was a little odd to greet him at such a solemn time. She just stayed not too far away from him, waiting for a better moment, when she almost dropped the pot when she tripped over something and squeaked like a mouse.
“Goodness,” she muttered, regaining her composure as soon as possible. At least she would be able to drop this the pot off soon enough.