I was tired after weeks of travel. I had finally reached Rendfire but then that mutt had showed up and fucked up everything. I had no idea of the thing’s existence in the first place. For all I know it should have been doing dog things. Like running around in circles and sniffing its butt or chasing deer. Not attacking innocent humans.
Granted, it isn't entirely its fault. The thing wanted food. And to all appearances, I looked like a tasty mortal snack for the wolf. Little did he know I'm neither Innocent nor weak. My first mistake was not disposing of the body immediately. I should have buried it where I killed it. The last thing I should have done was lug it around. I mean, sure I thought I could maybe make a nice coat out of it but still I should have known killing a Foundation Realm beast in this part of the empire would raise some eyebrows.
Maybe I should just leave and move to a different village in a different Barony or, hell, maybe a different province I cut myself off from this entire line of thinking. ‘Beating yourself up is not going to change anything,’ I tell myself.
Firstly, I couldn't have known that the thing was some sort of local legend although some critical thinking on my part probably would have been good.
Second, running is not an option. Gilbert would probably think something suspicious and send word to Baroness Luna. Who might be able to actually figure out the situation? And third, there isn't exactly a better or really any good province I could run to. So we're just going to live with it. And hopefully nothing else weird happens and everyone will forget all about it.
As I exited town I saw two farms right next to one another. After that, I saw only occasional signs of human habitation -- at a hut here, a couple of felled trees there, until I came upon another building around 30 minutes later.
It was a modest-sized home with multiple sheds scattered across the property. But beyond that, there were no signs of any human activity other than the road itself.
Eventually, I reached the end of the road. I quickly double checked that I was in the right place by pulling up my map. The map Gilbert gave to me detailed the entire valley. It was completely surrounded by mountains except to the southeast where I'd come from. The most prominent feature resided In the northwest quadrant of the valley: a large lake filling up at least a fifth of the landmass of the valley.
Using the map and the time I had spent walking towards my new home, I tried to estimate the size of my new holdings. It had taken me around an hour and 30 minutes to reach my current location, roughly dead center on the map, from the village. I estimated my walking pace was likely 5 or 6 miles an hour. So that meant my land was likely around 16 miles long from the base of the mountains to where I stood now. And judging by the valley’s shape, which was considerably wider than long, I estimated my property to span some 35 to 40 miles wide.
Some quick calculations put the total size of my land at about 600 square miles. The number took me back for a moment. That amount of land was more than enough. In fact, a tenth of the land was excessive. When I originally bought the land I only got 50 square miles and even that I had thought was excessive.
*Sigh*
Dwelling on the enormity of my lands would do me no good.
I stepped off the path and walked into the forest. It was densely filled with a variety of bushes, from those starting to show signs of spring fruit to those only offering sharp thorns. But finally, after thoroughly scoping the area I found my spot.
It was a slight clearing at the top of a hill. I could see the road cutting through the forest from the distance, probably around 7 or 800 feet away. It certainly was big enough for the home I planned to start building. And a good enough place to set up camp.
First I set up a fire. Regrettably I left Whitecrest without a tent, so it looked like I would be sleeping on the forest floor for the foreseeable future. Luckily my years in the field have taught me to always bring a sleeping roll and a comfy pillow. After all, nothing's worse than when you wake up in the morning with a sore neck.
Scarfing down the last bite of my meal I tried to make myself comfortable. I looked up at the night sky. It was gorgeous. Filled with ebbing nebulas and crystal clear constellations. This far north, and at this time of year, the Great Drake was starting to appear with only the tips of its horns and wings heralding its glorious arrival in the midst of Summer.
With the campfire as my vigil and the stars as my sentinels, I drifted off to sleep.
I woke with the sun’s morning rays beckoning me to a new day. As I performed my morning routine of stretches and katas, I pondered my plans.
The first thing on the list is building a house. As much as I like sleeping under the stars, a good bed and warm hearth would be nice. Although I can't take too long, as planting season is about to begin. I finish my stretches and move over to my bag, As I opened it I saw a small or Ornately carved mask made of wood reminiscent of dual amber. the mask made me think about the past.
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“Hey honey, can you change Alex's diaper?”
“Yeah, sure, let me just finish this -- one sec.”
“Well, can you hurry it up? he's about to…”
The moment I walked into the room my new baby boy emptied his bowels all over my husband.
“Well, well looks like he won't be needing a diaper anytime soon!”
My husband Victor retorted with a literal shit-eating smile plastered on his face, “Very funny, honey.”
“What!!”
“**Sigh** I would kiss you right now but seeing as you got Alex poop all over your face I'm going to have to pass.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Oh but babe…”
“Later.”
Victor gave me a wink as he quickly darted off to go get cleaned. I looked over at my son. He was now four months old. He was surprisingly large for his age. He had inherited his silver locks and strong chin from me. From his father he inherited his fire-orange eyes suggesting he likely also inherited his father's fire affinity.
Alexander, in response to my staring, giggled.
Grimacing at my son I began to clean him and attempt to put a fresh diaper on him. Eventually, after much protest from the baby and an undisclosed amount of unmentionables on my hands later, it was done.
Victor came up behind me and wrapped his hands around my waist.
“So, about that kiss….”
I half-heartedly try to wiggle out of his embrace. “Not now. I have to clean my hands and get to work.’
He grunted his reluctant acceptance. I gave him a quick peck of the lips before breaking away to clean up. After quickly rinsing and drying my hands, I moved towards the door.
“Have a good day at work, Sam.”
“Thanks Vic; I hope nothing bad happens today.’”
“Me too.”
Victor grabbed the now sleeping Alex and started moving to put him to bed. I smiled at the sight of my husband and son before closing the door behind me.
As Sam left for work Victor picked up Alex he let out a squeal of happiness reaching up with his small hands grasping at my face. I reach you down with my hand. Letting my son squeeze my finger.
I walked over to his crib, tucked him in, and made sure that the mana crystals I had Affixed only the day before still remained in their same position.
Once I had made sure of their secureness and of my son's comfort, I left the room.
leaving the young Alexander Grindelwald alone. Sound asleep. As the baby slept, small colorless particles like motes of dust in the wind emanated from the mana crystals and entered into the newborn's body.
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After giving the mask one last look I pushed it down deeper into the bag and began pulling out a small lacquer box. Opening the box reveals a small scroll detailing the plans that I had an architect draft in Nevermyer. It was my dream home: two stories tall with plenty of extra storage space for whatever I may need. The problem is not in building it. I'm confident in my ability to do so. The problem is time and resources. I have to finish my home and prep the fields in about 2 weeks if I am to harvest before the end of summer.
This of course means I will have to scale back on the house, which is fine; but the inner perfectionist in me cringes at the loss of time It will later take me to either improve or completely rebuild the home.
I wrestled my perfectionist streak for a while. I soothed it with the thoughts of the house I would build. And promised it I would build this temporary one right so I wouldn't have to destroy it. That of course meant I needed the right materials. I definitely wanted to emulate the style of the town, especially the grand, stone homes with wood accents. The wood in question is easily accessible, an entire forest of it growing not 10 paces away from me.
I'm not particularly concerned about the wood; the only problem might be the weight of the stone walls. I glance over my plans to see if the design seems viable. I need sufficiently large stones for the foundation to support the weight of the entire stone and timber structure. Ideally, I can source big continuous slabs.
But what kind of stone? I had no idea where to even mine the stuff. I could go ask Gilbert, but he probably doesn't want to see me again anytime soon. And if I'm being honest with myself, I don't really want to see Gilbert either. I could go into town and ask around but that would probably lead me back to Gilbert. So that leaves finding it on my own. Which can't be too hard. I mean, the entire town is primarily built of the stuff.
Firming my resolve, I leave my camp and travel North to the mountains. My logic was simple: I would more likely find a cave or some kind of quarry there.
But reality was in a fickle mood. I found plenty of stone, ranging from light gray river rocks to the darkest onyx. However, I could not find that impeccable white marble veined with jet black streaks I had so admired in the village. The very few caves I found and investigated came up empty. Exploration was never my strong suit. As I moved to higher and higher elevations I found even fewer caves and those too didn't bear any results.
Looking up at the sun I decided that I had spent enough time looking in this area. Instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off, I decided to return to camp and simply dig out the foundation for my home.
As I was walking back to my camp I heard the sound of rushing water. Exiting the tree line I spotted a moose standing in the bed of a river, munching on some sort of rivergrass. The joy and novelty of the experience shook me out of my admittedly hyper-focused mindset. I abandoned my original plan and decided instead to follow the water, hoping to find its source.
I wanted to do this for two reasons: First, I wanted to ensure the water source was clean and thus either potable or usable as an irrigation source. The second was for purely personal reasons: I just wanted to explore a little bit.
Eventually, after following the winding river west, I came upon some tall cliffs. But more importantly, waterfalls. Hundreds of waterfalls cascaded down the cliff sides and they all fed into the massive lake I had seen on my map. In person, the lake seemed even bigger than it appeared on the map. Its waters were a beautiful crystal blue and it shimmered in the spring sun.
One of the largest waterfalls was very close to me at the edge of the lake. It was easily 30 feet across and plummeted unbroken the entire height of the cliff, easily over a thousand feet high.
As I investigated the large waterfall I saw a path, likely made by sort of local fauna that scaled the cliff. I once again was faced with a choice. I could go be productive and build the foundation or…. And if I'm being honest with myself I don't particularly want to start digging out the foundation yet.
So I clambered up the path. The waters roared, like the sound of a horde of monsters, in my ear. In the end my judgment was misled. When I had initially looked at the trail, it seemed treacherous but doable. However, I failed to realize one important feature: However gradual the incline might be, it quickly became a sheer cliff. And a sheer, wet cliff face at that.
The rock underneath my hands and feet glistened with moisture. I did a mental facepalm in realization: “Nice move, Alex, nice move.”
I tilt my head up and estimate that I'm now about halfway up the cliff face. I should be fine as long as I don't fall. I put my head down, focusing on my hand and foot holds. I can't remember the last time I had to climb. And probably the last time I wanted to climb was that time when Wren put my bag in that tree and we made... I shake my head trying to dispel the memories of my friend, berating myself for my slip in attention.
“Alex, keep your head up, chin down. There you go, focus on your feet. Good boy!” I smile at the familiar tone and words. Not so much for the context and memory it brings back, but for the person who had said them.
After a while I look up again only to discover a strange sight. I know I have been making steady progress, from the looks of it I haven't even moved. On second thought, I think I might have backtracked, which is impossible because I know I have been moving forward.
To make the situation worse, dark clouds began appearing. And then the first drop of rain hits my face.
“Well, shit.”
I look down trying to gauge how far the drop was. It looks to be about three hundred feet to where I properly started climbing and at least five hundred to the lake below.
I looked up into the now storm. The rain that hit my face felt as heavy as the waterfalls around me. Before I can make my decision to jump or to attempt to climb up, I hear a loud crack as the stone supporting both my hands and my feet splits away from the cliff and begins to fall, carrying me with it.