"Maybe she'd go for a walk, just her and the pink switchblade. They were a good pair. Both incapable of opening up without cutting someone." ― Maggie Stiefvater, The Dream Thieves
The ride to Mirasal's childhood home just outside Dulaman was a few short miles North of Galivo. The small waterfront city was located along a harbor. In the distance they could see the sails of large boats obscuring the clouds and blotting out the sunlight. The scent of the fresh sea air cool against their skin. The storm seems to once again be relegated to Galivo and the Terog specifically. Out here, you'd never know there had been lightning and thunder the night before.
The morning had been spent in Mirasal's room with her asking questions in regards to Robert's abilities; can he really turn into anything, how long does it take him to grow out a full new limb, had he been a performer back on Earth and why specifically a clown form. He'd simply explained that they were popular in human culture and he had been one at one point. He had explained the history of clowns and circuses. That they were entertainment, much like the performers they had seen the day before.
While sitting in the thyacosma-drawn hooded carriage, driven by a Neeyotyto coachman, her thoughts drifted to Harold and whether or not he had the same ability.
"Yes." Robert growls softly.
"Oh, alright. Just wondering." No further inquiries were made as she stares out along the passing trees as they enter the lush countryside, populated by small houses and farms sporadically placed throughout.
She hadn't bothered going downstairs to help out in the kitchen, since the cold reception she'd been given the night before made her avoid any further contact with everyone. She was happy to once again be escaping that place. It seems like it was now permanently shrouded in gloom and negativity. The unrelenting storm hadn't helped in that regard.
As the carriage approaches the house just over a steep hill, she could make out the grass-covered roof slowly coming into view. The area was surrounded by trees whose branches hung over the outskirts of the home, which was built into a hillside. There was a small pond just beyond the cobblestone walkway leading to a bright blue door. The familiarity of the environment was a comfort.
"There it is." Mirasal points as she pulls her purple shawl tighter around her and adjusts her hat. She'd worn her new dress and necklace, while Robert was decked out in a black suit and red tie along with his usual ruby handkerchief.
"So...this is your childhood home. I wouldn't have noticed it tucked away there." Robert says as he cranes his neck to get a better look.
"Um, yes after our other house burned down," Mirasal replies. "We moved here afterwards, when I was about ten."
"Burned down..." Robert says as the carriage comes to a halt.
Mirasal offers no response. Instead she fiddles with his shirt collar as they pause in front of the pathway. There were various stone statues of aralia birds of different colors placed along its sides, similar to the ones outside the brothel. A modest garden of varying flora adorned the area below the windows.
"You look good," Mirasal smiles as she pats his lapels. "Now, I should tell you; it's bad manners to insult someone's cooking. So, if you don't like something, keep it to yourself." Saying anything negative about a Thycenian woman's cooking was not acceptable. It was a custom; only she could do that.
"What makes you think I don't know it's bad manners?" Robert queries, confused.
"You complain that things aren't salty enough. You can't do that in a Thycenian home."
"Oh. Alright. So I should pretend?"
"She's a good cook. You won't be pretending. But just so you know."
YOU ARE READING
Reverie
Mystery / Thriller"The Losers Club had driven It from the personal gaming reserve It had made. Now, it was time for It to make a new one. Just as It had to create a new physical form after Its other was destroyed by those hated ones. And It wants no more to feel. No...
