Thereafter, I ended my shift at one job and prepared to start the other, though not without a short stopover. Back then, the shoes I wore to work were ill-suited for long journeys across cobbled stone.
Neighboring Temple Rowe a few streets to the north, the Old Imperial Quarter was a hard to miss, thanks to its abundance of monolithic structures and illustrious architecture. Once upon a time, this had been the seat of the Trystan Imperial Court, and much of its history remained, as if in defiance of its dissolution. It was a time that I had not lived early enough to see, though a part of me sometimes wishes that I had, if not only so that I might've been present for such undertakings as the Crown Spire and the Great Cathedral of Saint Ausienne.
Additionally, this part of the city was also home to one of the city's more extravagantly plush botanical gardens, Lamplighter's Barrow, which I sometimes took a stroll through in those rare times when the weather was presentably sunny and warm.
Today was neither, but I stopped there nonetheless to change out my footwear and clear my head before the trial that lay before me. Thus, I found a quaint little bench beneath a vibrant viridian conifer, and in doing so found my gaze drawn around me and taking the time to admire the peaceful moment in which I found myself.
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Aside from my being late to leave work, as well as the subtly mounting anxiety over making a good impression on my second job, it had admittedly been a splendid afternoon, and as I laid my eyes on lone Edelweiss peeking through a cluster of limestone pavers, I felt the need to be grateful for the occasion. A little too often, I took for granted such things as being afforded opportunities like these where I could simply sit and appreciate the beauty of the world around me, and that was no way to live.
As I mired my mind in such thoughts, however, my reverie was broken as movement—a flash of white—drew my gaze until I settled on the figure of a tall, delicate feminine form clad head to toe in an ivory dress. Like me, she sat peacefully amidst the radiant flora, perched like a little upon the edge of a small fountain. Her features seemed almost ephemeral, as if she were half-made of light, and the perfectly pointed corners of her eyes gave her an almost cat-like countenance.
I marveled at the sight of her, my breath caught in my throat. Her radiant form, her spotless complexion, the smooth and elegant way she moved as her tiny, nimble fingers stroked the edge of a waxy-red flower she held in one hand; I could not imagine her to be anything else but a painting come off the canvas to haunt the waking world.
She seemed not to notice my gaze, but neither did I seem to register how rudely I was staring, least not until her sharp, silver-eyed gaze rose to meet my own.