It was a clear day.
Remi knew that well before he even climbed out of bed or looked out the window. He knew before he went outside to check on the trees at the orchard or noticed no coals burning in the brazier of his room. It was the sound alone – or the lack thereof – that told Remi what sort of day it was. The dead stillness of the manor, where there wasn’t even the sneeze of a single soul interrupting was how he knew.
To be sure, Remi kicked off his blankets and pulled open the curtains where he looked out at the trees with their leaves starting to turn to yellow and red. His father’s horses were not in their stables and his hunting hounds weren’t barking up a ruckus from days couped up and doing nothing.
These sorts of days were rare in this time of the year. Even as Remi opened his window to let in the fresh air, he was met with the smell from a recent rainfall that had just finished when the sun came up. It was a relief after spending the entire night listening to it drip into the bucket placed in his room. Some of the leaves began to drop off and covered the ground with a soggy matter and even the fog started to lift.
The servants already took advantage of this small window of good weather to make progress on clearing the grounds from sticks and leaves and patching up the roofs with whatever clay shingles they managed to scavenge. Remi watched them walk back and forth along the adjoining roof of the manor’s “L” shape and arguing over the best way to fit the red slabs without causing extra work for themselves. Others were about in the yard with spades to dig out a drainage ditch over on the west side of the manor to direct water away from the wall. It was better to repair the gutters, but with no resources, this was the next best thing.
Further down the dirt pathways, a carriage pulled by a scrawny old horse started to come up the way, carrying a great deal of much needed supplies. A few stopped what they were doing to help unload it. Nothing too terribly interesting to Remi; a few pots and pans, some additional old tiles for the roof, lumber, a few tools, and some barrels of pickled food for the upcoming winter. All this was needed months ago, but the carriage had a broken wheel that couldn’t be fixed until the pouring rains stopped.
In the distance, Lindern’s Sky Pillar loomed over the entire kingdom with its ethereal trunk reaching up high into the clouds. It was visible, even on cloudy days, which was why travelers used it as a guide. But today was unique in that, not only could Remi see Lindern’s Sky Pillar, but also those of a further distance that marked other kingdoms and empires.
One day, when he was still a small child, Remi asked his grandfather – the only person he knew to have seen it up close – if they could take a walk to it. It came as a surprise to the lad that it was far away, outside of Corgene County and further still even then. Certainly, nowhere close to where a little boy could walk to and touch, which is what Remi was the most interested in.
His grandfather did promise several times that he would take his grandchildren one day, but that promise remained on indefinite hold. But while Remi couldn’t touch its trunk, its “roots” – or at least what Remi thought were roots – stretched out over the length of the entire kingdom. The first lesson he learned in gardening was to look for its threads in the soil, as it was a sign the ground was good and fertile.
Remi knew that well before he even climbed out of bed or looked out the window. He knew before he went outside to check on the trees at the orchard or noticed no coals burning in the brazier of his room. It was the sound alone – or the lack thereof – that told Remi what sort of day it was. The dead stillness of the manor, where there wasn’t even the sneeze of a single soul interrupting was how he knew.
To be sure, Remi kicked off his blankets and pulled open the curtains where he looked out at the trees with their leaves starting to turn to yellow and red. His father’s horses were not in their stables and his hunting hounds weren’t barking up a ruckus from days couped up and doing nothing.
These sorts of days were rare in this time of the year. Even as Remi opened his window to let in the fresh air, he was met with the smell from a recent rainfall that had just finished when the sun came up. It was a relief after spending the entire night listening to it drip into the bucket placed in his room. Some of the leaves began to drop off and covered the ground with a soggy matter and even the fog started to lift.
The servants already took advantage of this small window of good weather to make progress on clearing the grounds from sticks and leaves and patching up the roofs with whatever clay shingles they managed to scavenge. Remi watched them walk back and forth along the adjoining roof of the manor’s “L” shape and arguing over the best way to fit the red slabs without causing extra work for themselves. Others were about in the yard with spades to dig out a drainage ditch over on the west side of the manor to direct water away from the wall. It was better to repair the gutters, but with no resources, this was the next best thing.
Further down the dirt pathways, a carriage pulled by a scrawny old horse started to come up the way, carrying a great deal of much needed supplies. A few stopped what they were doing to help unload it. Nothing too terribly interesting to Remi; a few pots and pans, some additional old tiles for the roof, lumber, a few tools, and some barrels of pickled food for the upcoming winter. All this was needed months ago, but the carriage had a broken wheel that couldn’t be fixed until the pouring rains stopped.
In the distance, Lindern’s Sky Pillar loomed over the entire kingdom with its ethereal trunk reaching up high into the clouds. It was visible, even on cloudy days, which was why travelers used it as a guide. But today was unique in that, not only could Remi see Lindern’s Sky Pillar, but also those of a further distance that marked other kingdoms and empires.
One day, when he was still a small child, Remi asked his grandfather – the only person he knew to have seen it up close – if they could take a walk to it. It came as a surprise to the lad that it was far away, outside of Corgene County and further still even then. Certainly, nowhere close to where a little boy could walk to and touch, which is what Remi was the most interested in.
His grandfather did promise several times that he would take his grandchildren one day, but that promise remained on indefinite hold. But while Remi couldn’t touch its trunk, its “roots” – or at least what Remi thought were roots – stretched out over the length of the entire kingdom. The first lesson he learned in gardening was to look for its threads in the soil, as it was a sign the ground was good and fertile.
