Wyn | The Historian's Pespective
The Historian's Pespective |
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In a small room, with thick walls made of wood, Oak most likely - rugged and unbrushed, giving away a scent of oldness. It was hard to imagine that these sturdy timber walls had once grown in the forest, it felt more as if they had been here forever - like emerged with the building itself... Shadows dancing quietly, could be seen on these walls, cast by the many candles that were scattered on the floor, and in the chandelier. Together they illuminated the place enough to see where you stepped.
Besides the candles and the wooden walls, only a small chair and a large desk could be found in this room, not even a window. The desk was placed right in front of you as you came in through the door. It was the sort of desk where you had room for everything, boxes on both sides of your legs, a large board in front of you, and a big shelf above, where you could put more candles than you would ever need... On the desk lay stacks of paper, a couple of pens, photographs, stains of ink, two pipes along with a small metal box meant to be filled with whatever was smoked in the pipes, an emery, a pair of glasses, and an empty bottle. This was the desk of a senior man who lived in a central residence in the city of Aleria.
This man would spend most of his time gazing out over the endless roads that connected the countless homes, both small and tall - in the valley beneath the great hill. He admired every single part of it. As both traveler and historian, he had seen a lot through his life, but nothing fascinated him like Aleria. It appeared as if a magic sphere surrounded this city, in which anything and anyone would become part of its spell - the kind of place where you would go out for a walk and end up eating dinner with a person you never met before. Boundless, limitless, and full of energy. Everyone loved this place, even the old historian, standing on his balcony with a pipe - gazing out over it...
But this was not the main reason why he stayed here. He was looking for something, searching for answers... He had witnessed many things in his traveling days, and sensed a growing sorrow over the lands. From east to west, and south to north - the same ill wind swept. Plunder, freeloading, and theft – farmers, all telling the same stories...
His mind had grown anxious... "Could it be true after all?" – He pondered...