Once the sounds from Gerry’s horse and cart were well and truly gone and I’d finished my second- no, third- freak out I turned to look at the house, well I guess it’s my house now.

Whilst I appreciate the help, clearly me and Gerry have different ideas about what neat is because this garden is the definition of unkempt. The plants are overgrown and there are weeds everywhere but I guess after... was it like 2 years? it’s not as bad as it could have been.

The house in front of me screams wild. The vines winding up the walls are close to covering the doorway and windows, and flowers sprout from the moss covered roof. The roof is charmingly crooked and has a small stone chimney that I can already imagine to be puffing out smoke. It feels like the kind of place that you’d expect to be buried deep in the woods of a fantasy novel, a witch’s dream home.

Pointedly ignoring the whole status screen debacle for now, I decided to explore the house further. I was kind of excited, after all, based on what little I can remember from before I was never lucky enough to be on the property ladder in the past.

—-

Maybe throwing my whole weight against a door that I only assumed would be jarred wasn’t the best idea. Honestly I'm so glad I waited till I was alone to try that as I couldn’t hold back the sneeze that came from the dust shooting up my nose as I hit the floor.

Making my way through the small shop type room which was as bare and dusty as the rest of the house seemed to be, I ignored the furious blush and developing bruises that I’d suddenly found myself with, and focused on righting myself and brushing the ridiculous amount of dust off my jeans. The couple really weren’t kidding when they said they only focused on the garden.

Shit, speaking of the couple, they’ll be here in a few hours, I should probably try making it less dusty, at least whilst I explore.

The windows and shutters took the amount of force that I’d expected of the door and after working up a sweat opening them up, a coughing fit was now less imminent than before and the light allowed me to get a better view of my new home.

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It was… sparse. The first floor was basically one room with only the essentials. The ‘living room’ was just a rocking chair and a shoddy looking bench by the fire, alongside a small table with four chairs and a small and very basic kitchen. More than anything else were pots, now long since empty of all but shriveled plants. There was more space than was utilised but everything from the furniture to the few decorations scattering the walls looked homemade and well loved.

In my first sweep I’d noticed a letter sitting upon the table with ‘my’ name on it. The paper was foreign and thick between my fingers, more like parchment than the paper I’m accustomed to. The writing was foreign too, a language I’d never seen before. The page contained blogs and smears as though the writer had gone back and forth over what to write, the words growing stronger as they went on. Running my fingers over the words I begrudged the fact I couldn’t understand words that seemed to have been so important to someone.

The ding echoing in my head had me jumping about five foot in the air, agitating the burgeoning bruises from my earlier entanglement with the floor.

Skill Learned: Language Lv 1

As my eyes lock onto the now slightly legible letter I get a twinge of excitement in my stomach and honestly, ok, I have to admit that as insane as this all is, it might be kind of cool.

The more I read the few words that I can, the clearer the words become, until I can finally make out the words written.

Skill Increase: Language Lv 1 > 5

My Dear Violet. I’m sorry to tear you from your ‘world tour’ but this weary man fears his end is close. The Garden is yours as you always wished, I know you never wanted to gain it in such a manner and I apologise for this. I haven’t had the strength to keep on top of the shop and the plants as much as I wished but I trust you will breathe life back into them and allow our home to thrive once more. My daughter, I love you, you have always been the bright spot in my life and as my end grows closer I can only hope that you are happy and healthy,

Your father.

I can’t hold back the tears thinking of this man waiting for his daughter to come home and never living to see her again

Thinking back to what little I remembered of my childhood, the blank walls and residential turnover of a children’s home, I wished I really was Violet Alchymia, growing up in a home that looked full of love.

Violet Alchymia isn’t coming home, but now i’m her and i’m here and i’ll make this man, her father, no- my father, proud