Essensia

For, what does it mean when I am promised of paradise?

* * * * * * * *

Daybreak.

Other than the sound of the shores along the coast, Essensia was quiet and calm. Generally, there was rarely a time of day when the city got too loud. Everyone was courteous and thoughtful of those who could be sleeping. Even though most people in Essensia were diurnal, Aideyll overall had its fair share of nocturnal people and everything in between, depending on the clan.

At the corner of the central plaza in the Essensia city markets, however, was a bakery shop always open, to feed every kind that walked along these streets. An aroma of milk and honey hovered in this corner, where bread was fresh, pastries were crisp, and cakes were fluffy.

One baker who shared this corner would take turns with another every day and night, ready to start for the sake of that fresh aroma. There was nothing more refreshing, appetizing, or relaxing, than the scent of warm pastries, and she prided herself in making them. The other baker helping her this morning had the same pride. He was always smiling throughout the day, every day, and had lost count long ago, of the number of families he had fed, the number of friends he’d made since moving to Essensia. Sure, everyone knew how to cook and bake, but he knew how to give his friends meaning to the start of their day, how to make people believe every chew of the mouth was worthwhile. His talent was a blessing from the Ashenborn, and it was a blessing he gladly shared with Aideyll.

Boats from all over Aideyll sailed toward the Essensia ports as the sun rose against the sea’s edge. Some carried the abundance of the late summer’s trades. Others, travelers from different provinces in all eight corners of Aideyll. One of these, a young human, stepped off one of these boats when it got to the docks, his shoes making soft thuds down the wooden planks.

In truth, he had never learned anything about stage production. In truth, he came to Essensia a few weeks back, in hopes of gaining insight of how he could contribute to Aideyll. He had finished his mandatory education two years ago, and after helping with construction in his hometown, he visited the Ashenborn and prayed for answers. What was there for him to learn, to do, to contribute, to grow… to be?

Desireen Opera House will be expecting you as their new apprentice in twenty-four days, was Lady Aiana’s answer for him. He didn’t know why, but with nothing to lose, there was no reason for him to at least try.

He passed other boats unloading fresh fish and crustaceans for the Essensia markets, the stench of fish and sea spreading across the dock. Some of these sailors unloading the boats loved the sea. Some held close friends and family in merfolk villages underwater. Catches like these were necessary to feed all of Aideyll. These fish would fill the stomachs of those who had no time to sail out to the waters themselves; no time, because they were busy teaching everyone’s children, honing their skills to protect everyone along the Edge, or making things, creating things, and inventing things people needed: clothes, shoes, baskets, chairs and tables, plates and silverware, paper and pens and ink, and everything else in between. Why… these sailors did not understand why there were not more people out in these waters, traveling the world to their leisure, every day, just to bring back fish to feed some mouths every now and then. They could not fathom an entire life sitting on land. No, none of them would ever want a life tucked away in a room or bound to the ground.

The ports led to the markets. The young man’s footsteps sounded muffled echoes among the cobblestones. Off to the side of the central plaza ran a bridge that arched over one of the many rivers that ran through the city. A line of boats floated with gentle rocking motions, each one tied to the side waiting for its next user. Oars laid inside each one, just in case the ones using one of the boats were not of any kinetic breed and could not propel the boat forward on their own.

Below the surface of the rivers, fish and crustaceans roamed free, for now. Most merfolk and amphibious breeds were still asleep. These rivers had been carved by humans over a millennium ago, with these water clans in mind. Its depth was more than 144 meters at any given point, solely because those using boats would not know when they could accidentally slap a merman in the face with an oar. At least—not until the deed had already been done.

The young man walked up and down these streets, trying to find his way. One by one, the doors to tailors and shoemakers opened, followed by doors to different cuisines, furnitures, and book collections. And after quite a bout of walking, to where the sun was well above the horizon, the young man decided he must approach someone and ask for directions.

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Around the corner, he found two people chatting before someone’s garden. One had a zigzagging walkway decorated with vines and bushels of fruits and berries for the family and daily passersby.

“Please also greet Mister Featherstone for me? I do believe he is on your way. The tea set he offered for my sister’s birthday was beautiful!”

“Of course. Actually, I love his artwork. Make it half an hour, then.”

He approached them, and before he could part his lips and say any greeting of any sort, the two women turned to him and smiled.

“Good morning, handsome boy!”

“Pleasant mornings, young sir.”

“Good morning,” he answered with a nod. “I think I’m a bit lost. I’m supposed to be helping out with the construction of the stage for the upcoming opera. Do you know where—”

“Oh! What a talented young man!”

“You can’t expect any less from someone who can offer a hand in Essensia. Under the Ashenborn, oh! How blessed, indeed!”

“You aren’t lost. Take a right two streets down,” she pointed to her left and wiggled her finger a bit in the air, “and you’ll know where to go. Signs and posters will guide your way.”

“Thank you and good day,” he nodded to the woman who told him good morning, and followed up with a “Thanks. Pleasant times,” to the other who offered him pleasant mornings. And off he went, bidding the two women parting gestures.

As he passed another corner and walked down the street, he saw a frantic woman searching for help. He was about to walk up to her, when another tall man with ivory and black hair beat him to it.

“Miss? You do not look well.”

“Can you please come to my home? You’re of the Envra clan, correct?” Her eyes dug in to his black ones. “You can heal, can’t you?”

“Yes, I’m, but I’m on my way for urgent matters at the Academy Hospital.”

“Oh! Please, if you could please take but a moment! My father. He tripped walking down the stairs! I helped him to a chair, but he needs attention. If you could take a look. I live in the third floor, just down this street right here.” She pointed to their right. Buildings lined up sharing walls, backed by another street that sloped down.

“I’ve not the time, but if you’d not mind, I’d call my brother down to follow you.”

“Oh, yes! Please! If it wouldn’t be trouble for him!”

The tall man turned to a window above them. “Kaiar!”

There was a pause, but soon enough, the window flew open and a younger man with the same ivory and black hair poked his head out from behind the pine green curtains.

“What’d you forget this time?!” he called back down. “I told you to double check before you leave!”

“I’d not forget anything,” the man laughed. “Come down. A father needs attention, and I’ve not the time.”

“Ah! Let me put on a jacket!”

The man turned to the woman, now smiling behind tears. “Kaiar will follow you. Now, if you will excuse me,” he bowed.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” the woman took his hand and shook it. “Now that you know where I live, please come over for dinner, as a token of my gratitude!”

“No worries, miss,” the man smiled. “I’m not the one that helped. That, and I’m often busy in the dinner hours. There are often those too sick to feed themselves.”

Kaiar closed the door to their home and stepped down to the cobblestone streets. The woman shook his hand in thanks and the two rushed down the street to her home. And with that, the young man continued along his way, looking for the opera house.

The tall Envra man continued along his path to the Academy Hospital, thinking for a moment how wonderful life would be if he did not need sleep. Most of the patients he dealt with were not those of Essensia, but those from other provinces in Aideyll, flown to the Academy Hospital as a last resort.

Every hospital in Aideyll knew of Reikon Envra, a direct disciple of Lord Adrion for twenty-two years, from fourteen years of age. The Ashenborn knew him better than anyone else—and of course they would, when they knew all and created all. They knew of the passion he had to rid the world of all sickness and pain and disease for as long as he could live in Aideyll. There was no better answer to his prayer than this. Every challenge sent to him was one he could not fail, and would not fail. He only had to try.

Such is the blessing of life and knowledge. He would not miss such an opportunity.

Upon a fork in the road, Reikon took the one on the furthest right of three. The one on the left led to the Hall of the Ashenborn, commonly also called the Prayer’s Palace, and the second led to the campus grounds of the Academy. Reikon looked across the vast meadow and saw a woman with yellow and ivory hair glide graceful steps down the path toward the Hall of the Ashenborn. So early in the morning. She faced the road with arms crossed before her.

There was pain. Reikon could see that from miles away. And as he continued along to help those in need of him, he prayed for this woman to find what she needed in her prayer to the Ashenborn.

Whatever pain she may feel, be close. Anya, let her know of a mother.

And just like that, in his own mind, Anya’s voice echoed an answer. I have always been, and I will carry your cares and prayers to her upon her arrival.

The woman’s path was clear, and even as she reached the steps to the looming doors, slender and white, there were no prayers waiting before her. The doors creaked open, expecting her to arrive exactly when she did. She made hesitant and heartbroken steps up the travertine tiles.

A young man with navy and brown hair stood beside the door. “The next prayer will enter now, Your Graces.”

“Please make haste and welcome her forward.”