Wealthy Citizen's Reflections
This book can be found in a chest in southeastern Av'Sal. It tells the story of a wealthy Avsohmic painter, who grew up the child of a lumberjack in Spearhead Forest, but was sent away to study painting after her father discovered her talent for the art. She studied in several of the finest academies in the realm, and eventually made a strong name for herself as a painter in Av'Sal. She was able to transition using Avsohmic runic tattoo technology, married, and had children, and at the time of writing, ponders if she should bring her husband and children to meet their grandfather for the first time.
Coordinates¶
| X | Y | Z |
|---|---|---|
| 37 | 84 | 1664 |
Transcription¶
I grew up with an axe in my hand and a flask at my hip; a wild boy with a foul mouth and a worse attitude. My old man was a woodcutter out in Spearhead Territory, and together we would wander for days on end in a group of five others, looking for the alciga pine that would fetch a decent price at market in Virsuhl.
In Pa’s eyes, I would only ever be respected only for what I could carry. He wasn’t a cruel man, not really. But he was tragically strong, and a strong body can go a long way to mask a troubled heart. When he missed Ma, he would get drunk and play Heka with Ricky Stone and Lehnas, where they would tell jokes for hours about “soft” Avsohmites fainting at the sight of sweat. Then, accompanied by the setting Torahn, I would be left alone in the woods with my thoughts. It was then that I'd take out my most prized possession- a sketchbook that I had bought myself from an old traveling merchant. Only then did I allow myself to become something more than a cog. Taking out pigments I would stash away in my jerkin, I spent my time painting the trees and their personalities. A thin trunk became a weak farmhand. A pine with a lightning-scarred trunk became a maimed widower. A young white cedar, a beautiful woman with auburn hair.
I never wanted Pa to see my art. When he crept up behind me, quiet as a deer, and snatched my sketchbook, a lump of shame grew in my throat. My mind spun, trying to think of a confident retort, and my shame turned into shock as a tear rolled down his mountainous face. "How.. how could you have known what she looked like? You weren't even big enough to walk.”
Quickly regaining his composure, Pa’s face grew impassible. When we returned to Virsuhl, we went across the town square to a squat stone building with quartz trim. The Avsohmic embassy. Pa had me wait outside while he went in to talk with the man. I busied myself whittling a nearby stick and scowling at passersby for a time.
Before long, Pa returned with the ambassador in tow. Pa looked sheepishly down at me and cleared his throat. “Boy. You’re going to go with Behring here. Life out here isn’t enough for someone who can paint like you can. You’ll do a lot more good in the empire.” Almost immediately after saying that, he turned red, and stiffly walked away.
I have come so far since that day, and only recently have I realized that he was right. For years, I worked in the finest academies throughout Dreh'Noha, Drehua, and Akhlo'Rohma. I have seen Emperor Drehn give a speech at his parapet in Av’Sal. I have witnessed the majesty of Sal’Anyr, perched high above the desert floor. I received runic tattoos which helped me to look like the person that the tree in my soul looks like. I fell in love.
As a woman with a kind husband, two wonderful children, and a home that could fit fifty of the cabin I grew up in, I wonder what Pa would think if I met him again. Would he even want to see me? Wonah thinks we should take the kids to visit the place where their mother learned to paint.
But Spearhead isn’t my home anymore. Now, rather than cutting wood, I wear a silk robe and work with the visionary Ekari to design gardens for an underground city. I have become “soft”, yes, but I have never forgotten the value of hard work.
Perhaps, then, Pa would approve of my life’s choices. Maybe he would need to admit he was wrong about Avsohm. Maybe he would show our children how to swing an axe like he did for me so many years ago. Maybe.
I have not decided yet. Maybe when Ekari and I finally finish with this sector of Sal'Yahv, I will wake Wonah with a kiss, and we will return to the forest.