Changing Tides

[DoS Archive]

From: araneganderfald@aol.com (Arane Ganderfald)
Date: 03 Mar 2002 18:56:43 EST

Some days it was just hard to get moving. The snow added to that feeling, of course. Perhaps if she had grown up in an area where snow wasn't a rarity, she wouldn't feel the same way. However, from what she'd seen, those who grew up with lots of snow still often lingered in front of a fire on afternoons like this.

The scent of chamomile and spearmint, its source an untouched mug of tea growing cold from a spot on her beaten old desk, mixed with the heavier scent from the wood burning in the fireplace. She didn't really like tea all that much but tea seemed almost to be a necessity on a day like this. The stereotype of a lazy winter afternoon.

Arane stood in front of the double windows facing away from the old oak desk which was quite obviously far too neat and orderly to be in regular use. She watched the snow fall to the ground a story below her window with a childlike curiosity. Well, the term "fall" never seemed to her to adequately explain what snow did. It bustled and collided and sometimes almost seemed to "fall" upwards back towards the sky. With a slight smile, she pressed
the back of a hand against the cold pane.

"When will you learn that life always comes back to the middle? You will never completely cut your ties with RhyDin, with the Arena," a deep, familiar voice interrupted her solitude. A thin, balding man, leaned against the doorway, a lit cigar between two fingers of one hand and an ashtray in the other.

Her hand dropped from the window pane but she did not turn to face the intruder. "Spare me the cosmic time crap, Edwin. I'm only here because Cletus wanted to compete tonight in that Warlord Tournament. That's all. I hate this city. I hate those uppity dueling people."

"So you keep saying, doll, but you never seem to stay away from RhyDin. Personally, I believe its a need to show up those 'uppity dueling people'. You really should learn to deal with jealousy better," he replied with a mischievous smirk as he approached the desk.

"Spare me the psychology crap, too. I don't care what they think of me. I do not even plan on attending the tournament tonight," she grumbled, finally turning to face him. The hand reached back up to cover an annoyed cough upon spotting the cigar. Smoking was not allowed in her house or around her children but Edwin believed he was above all rules.

Edwin set the ashtray down on the desk which separated the pair of old friends. His now free hand reached into his back pocket, his amusement at her grumpiness growing further at the cough. "Well, if you aren't deep down bothered by those crazy people, then I'm sure you won't be at all interested in this," he countered, tugging an envelope from his back pocket and laying it down on the desk. "It was delivered to the office and the front of the
envelope didn't have a name but, I've read it and I'm certain that you are its intended recipient."

After a moment's hesitation, one of Arane's hands snapped out to grab the letter. Edwin chuckled as he collected his ashtray and started back towards the door. Arane turned back to the window, pulling the letter from the envelope, carelessly allowing the envelope to flutter to the wooden floor.

Although its sender and the other recipients were certainly no friends of hers, the proposal in itself was certainly interesting. Perhaps the Warlord Tournament tonight would be more interesting than a good book and bowl of popcorn. She refolded the letter, her gaze floating back up to watch the battle of snowflakes continue.

Those people deserved to be knocked down a couple of notches. Even if she wasn't sure yet if she wanted to have a direct hand in it, the sender had promised that tonight's festivities would be the announcement of something grand. Perhaps it was time those people truly would pay for their moral hypocrisy and perhaps not but it couldn't hurt to at least attend.

With that thought, she slid the letter into her back pocket and turned from the window to find her husband to inform him that she had decided to attend tonight's tournament to support him after all.