Back on the streets to Jarabesa village. The scenery is idyllic with a giant fortress up front and beautiful
forested paving to the back. Clouds have accumulated and a small drizzle has begun falling down and
drenching the world in a thin veil of water. Ever so often you could hear birds chirping in the distance.
If you were unlucky, there might be a low growl coming from the side. Locating the source of these
sounds proves to be distinctly hard for the untrained ears.
< What a pity that was.>> Within this rural, yet harmonic atmosphere there stands a small pavilion made out of mahogany- colored wood. A construction that contained bottom, body and head-parts culminated into this rather luxurious design: < mines in Rabakda recently?>> < the mines was the correct one.>> … With Grey stones, cut and smoothed out like butter with a knife, there was a solid foundation. Inbetween the stones there were 12 deliberately placed gaps for wooden archs to be inlaid into, forming an inner and an outer hexagon, both being phase-delayed so that the vertices of one hexagon would coincide with the corners of the other. < broke its ankle! I almost considered switching animals!>> < A combination of clay-like stone and transparent glass was used to build up the first few meters of this 5-meter-high building, making a solid windshield with beautiful amethyst-colored viewing gaps between the layered stones. < and she still called me the best one!>> < < call me with such a nasty title now, can they?>> <> In the 6 triangular areas between the inner and outer hexagons there were huge flower-pots made out of burnt ceramics, which contained huge trees sprouting as a stabilizing for the outer shell and standing tall like stalagmites. These trees were colored a dark Grey and did not have any leaves or branches hanging from their obelisk-like bodies. Underneath the pots there was actually an additional finger-sized hole each inside of the house’s first layer’s stone. Their use-case still unknown. < <> < ... Atop the Grey trees there was a smooth mahogany-colored dome being supported and sheltering the house’s residents while simultaneously serving as their room’s roof. An out-of-style but beautiful piece of architecture the likes are rarely seen in Estica and around. < < HaHaHa!>> < Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. brightly as she did!>> ... Inside the spacious living quarters there was an interesting incense-like smell wafting around; a smell akin to a charcoal-flower, both smoke-like in strength and power and still soothing. Only a couple of people would enjoy this type of mix, especially the older demographics. < very stale in their view on us landwalkers. Can’t blame them, I suppose.>> < to get their hands on!>> <<*Slaps the Chair* How Much!? >> <<< On a pair of adjacent couches made out of densely packed grass as cushioning, wooden poles as framing and dried clay as stuffing the two elderly men sat down as they drank a heavy liquor and told each other about their old stories. The visibly older of the two lead a majority of their conversation’s time as he just had that much more to say to his junior in age. < have seen it all!>> < < The two talked about their travels, their mysterious sights and acquaintances with the times; occasionally they would find out about a common friend along the way. Each time that happened they ensued another toast on the well-being of their friend. The mood was jolly, the talk was long. It felt like time had come to a crawl as two giant trees showed each other the depth of their roots. < < Contest? That one was my idea!>> < tip my head to you, Sir!>> Eventually though the younger tree could not help but admire the depths and strength of time that had assembled before him. ... < number of women that I laid in the same bed with. One day you will surely reach that point as well, Lad.>> < < <> < worth! You need to get out between the people you trade with! At least once in your life!>> As it turns out the Old man truly was an old man belonging to the oldest generation. Even Sir Raylon, who had seen his fair share of the world, could not even come close to the Elder in front of him. But that is to be expected of somebody of his caliber: Ambassador of many reforms to the world of Gaia, Spirit King, the eldest tree with the deepest roots, Sir Raylon was talking to none other than Rakdal Urwald, the Humanitarian Sage. Rakdal continued on with a long tirade about the wonders of love, giving an excruciating amount of detail to his escapades with the opposite sex, while Raylon’s thoughts spiraled back to the matter at hand. The combination of lecturing and his problems with educating the little Haja combined with a large intake of alcohol to create a somber mood in the rustic room. < Eventually the older of the two also caught up with the changes in his partner’s mood and confronted him with them. < In a way it was the perfect opportunity to ask. When asking about the weather you should ask a weatherman. When asking about love, you ask a Gigolo. When it comes to matters of seniority, who would be better to ask than the elder of all elders? < me anything as long as it is not too world-altering information.>> The raspy voice bathed in liquor gave the Old Merchant a fleeting sense of stability, that was quickly replaced by a feeling of embarrassment. < In a sudden shift of tone Rakdal raises his long eyebrows and looks at the man in an oddly serious manner. For a split second the air turns heavy and it feels like standing before Raylon is a Behemoth of a giant, ready to squash the small man at a moment’s notice. He realizes that these next words should not be spoken carelessly or else he might lose more than just respect from the Elder Sage. Steeling his resolve and standing up from his seat, Raylon continues. < Altwald. Hamish and I have had a close relationship since eons ago. I owe him more than he could have realized himself. However his time on this spot of dirt came too soon and he departed to join the spirits of our ancestors before me.>> < Once a human being sheds their outer shell and ascends to the spirits, their mind and heart will quickly disperse into the grand stream of spirits without being able to maintain their ego. Death is a permanence that you should not dare to mess with, Sir Raylon.>> Though his voice had stayed a steady dark-baritone, Sir Raylon could hear a deep bass beneath the Sage’s answer, suggesting that he tread a dangerous line. The Old Merchant however was not intimidated that easily and continued while staring back into this Sage Rakdal’s deep Grey eyes. < Calming himself once again, Sir Raylon sits back down to see eye-to-eye with his elder. < to be more specific, I met Hamish Altwald’s beloved grandson named Haja.>> He took a short break from speaking to wet his throat with the water provided by Elder Rakdal. < deceased friend.>>, he continued. < limitless depending on the boy’s future development. However...>> The seasoned veteran closed his eyes for a second before staring down to the ground and continuing with shame in his face. < for me to control. The boy is at an age, where he needs a guardian, an idolized figure in his life that he can unconditionally put his trust in. I thought that I could fill this gap due to my closeness to his grandfather but I was mistaken. Little Haja does not enjoy the things he enjoyed, think the things he thought or act the way that Hamish acted. He is a different type of person. And that scares me. It scares me to advice a boy using my methods and teachings only for me to squander the boy’s potential due to my own incompetence!>> Without facing Elder Rakdal head-on, Sir Raylon repositioned himself in his seat to assume a position of bowing his head with his eyes averted to the stone ground. < that bind our kind to the most central water of the deep sea, you are said to have seen it all! My wisdom pales in comparison to yours, so I will ask you, Humanitarian Sage! What should I do?>> The advice I seek is about my deceased friend’s grandson and my own apprentice in the art of merchandise-trading. I wish for the humanitarian sage to impart but a fingernail’s worth of knowledge. Please impart to me how to nurture a boy with a talent that will one day be able to change the world in its entirety!>> Silence. For a few moments no words were exchanged as his request still hung in the air. Like a powerful Incense or an intrusive low-note? Who knows. Ba-Dump Ba-Dump! As the seconds trickled by, Sir Raylon’s heart continued to accelerate and he feared himself to be too assertive against the mightiest being on Gaia. *Snicker* But slowly he noticed a string of background-noises chained together in a weird way. *Snicker* *Snicker* Once Sir Raylon raised his gaze, he finally saw it. There he was, the humanitarian sage, holding his mouth, eyes protruding from their eye-sockets, barely holding himself together… < Before losing his composure and laughing like a lunatic. The laughter continued to hold onto. From time to time the elder managed to bring out words like ‘That’s it?’ or ‘I thought you might try to revive the dead but this?’ Sir Raylon just sat there patiently waiting, his face reddened from the embarrassment. Inside however the man still felt relieved. He was relieved that the mightiest person on Gaia seemed to have a heart as wide as the deep oceans.