Wizard of the Wood

Shelf and Scribble

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2

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Frost etched itself along the ridges of the wavy glass windowpane. There was complete and utter silence outside, all sound absorbed by the trees which stood vigil. Snow huddled and clung against the rocks and trees outside the once solitary stone home of the known Sorceress of Fanged Ridge. Creatures dared not step outside of their homes in such frigid weather, and neither did the two occupants of the home which had been carved into the sides of the mountain's face.

Rylir wasn't sure what time he regained consciousness, but it was practically impossible to tell exactly what time of day it was in Essie's home. There was only one window which often had the curtain pulled over it to prevent the cold from seeping through the panels. The window also faced away from the sun's light. With the overcast days of heavy, snow-filled grey clouds, there was little chance for Rylir to determine many details of the outside world.

At the same time, he could judge how long Essie had been awake based on what she was doing once he woke up.

If she was sitting by the fire staring pensively, she had just woken up. If she had a beverage in the thick clay cup, which he could easily use as a tub to bathe himself, or was eating something, if she chose to eat at all, she was past the pensive stare and onto organizing her thoughts for the day. Gardening often replaced eating, and brewing or scribbling meant he could've slept the day away entirely.

Rolling over under the excessive amount of furs covering him, he blinked away the blur obscuring his vision until the room came into focus.

The curtain was, as usual, drawn and the door was shut to the outside world. The fire crackled as though a fresh log had been placed onto it. Rylir was grateful beyond words for the crackling warmth the fire offered. For years, he wandered the roads, taking shelter when he could either in hovels he created temporarily or in the places he worked as a hired hand for a season. Sometimes, he managed to scrape together coin to stay in a proper bed for the night, but that was few and far between.

The warmth from Essie's fireplace was a welcome change to his previous lifestyle. Though it wasn't an unwelcome change, it was accompanied by other changes he was still adjusting to. Living with a wizard, especially a wizard who was one of the few giants who roamed the lands, was an adjustment he would need time to settle into.

Poking his nose out from under the furs and inhaling deeply, there was no scent of fresh herbs being ground from the stone mortar and pestle, nor was there the smell of tea. He couldn't hear boiling water either. There was also a distinct lack of sizzling sounds of meat, meaning Essie skipped breakfast and either gardened or was working.

Rylir craned his neck but couldn't see over the edge of the furs he was nestled in at the moment, but he did hear something that sounded like scratching. He pulled himself under the covers and stretched, basking in the warmth once more before pushing himself upright.

The slightly cold air flooded underneath the covers, making him instantly regret sitting upright. Still, he knew he would never hear the end of it from Essie if he didn't get up and do something productive.

He looked around on the shelf space he had been given as living quarters. It wasn't much, not that he was one to complain. There was a small wooden box for him to keep the clothes he made as well as his miscellaneous belongings. There was a wash basin for his face and a few hooks in the walls to hang his tool belt, rope, and a couple of makeshift weapons such as his bow, quiver of arrows, and a crystal dagger his family gave him when he came of age – one of his most prized possessions.

It was a humble, makeshift home, but it was more than he had in a long time. It was nice to have something be predictable in his life for a change. This morning, however, had a few things he didn't expect.