1031 Harpa, Sumardagurinn
The first of summer means the first of labor. Citizens of Vashti have migrated in droves of tens of thousands west of the Welson River. This land is absolutely breathtaking. The forests are so lush, the air is so fresh, and food from these near virgin farmlands has flavor like nothing grown in Vashti. For the last four years I have looked forward to summertime with Erickson to learn of architecture and the perks of being a lord.
Aside from sending a fourth of my quite handsome pay to my parents to help them through these harsh times, my dream is to build a home here in the west for all of us. To leave the troubles of the densely populated land of Vashti for something a little more...free.
I haven’t mentioned the best part of the west yet. Her name is Maria, and she was the most beautiful girl at the pub tonight. Every night she serenades the drunkards who whistle and cry out to have her innocence. Tonight was the night I had planned to talk to her. Erickson caught me staring and interrupted my daydreams with a friendly fist to my arm.
With his head against a whore’s breast and his meaty hand around his stein, he told me a woman had never loved him, thus he had no sons. He’d been a friend to my father for so long he thought of him as a brother, and me, a nephew. As he put it, ”should the drink take me before a lonely heart, I’ll leave my business to you.” Pleased, I bought him another drink.
Not a minute into the next song, our messenger, Norman, burst into the pub. He silenced the music, unfolded a letter from the Capital of Vashti and read it aloud to the pub. King Rames had passed away. We all know the most recent war, of which Norman was a veteran, had taken all the life left in our king, and had left sudden illness upon him. Still we were shocked at the news.
Ever leery, John and Beck began to speak ill of Prince Eduard who was to take the throne. In all the commotion, I missed my chance to talk to Maria. She had already gone home. I must admit, I have always ignored the skepticisms of those gaffers, but tonight they left me with the unease to write.