Elven Legacy

Chapter 4

Noah stepped outside, into the brisk night wind. The half-moon shone among stars above, and lanterns from windows and porches cast their pale glow on the cobbled street. The notes from Hannia's mandolin drifted from the tavern, accompanying the sounds of passersby, people preparing a late dinner inside their home, or talking as they sat on their porch, with the gentle ringing of wind chimes.

Hart Delun's South Side was modest but very charming, with rows of mudbrick houses and large gardens fenced in dry-stone half-walls. Tall cacti jutted out from the gardens, with occasionally a fig tree, acacia, or other variety people had been able to grow in the capricious land.

Further down the street were the happon fields, where he could hear a group of kids playing in the distance. Noah headed that way, hands in his pockets, nodding and smiling at passersby – even when he didn't know them. Nearly every face was at least familiar by now.

'I wasn't sure you'd heard me.'

Jaden's reply came right away, 'I was in a meeting. I couldn't really talk.'

Noah smiled. 'I thought you liked talking to me in your meetings. Cause they're boring and, you know, I'm not.'

'This one was actually important.'

'Ownership of Land project?' Noah tried, passing a well-lit porch where an old couple were burning sandalwood incense and drinking tea.

'I'm that predictable, aren't I?'

'Pretty much. So how's it going?' Noah asked. The smile lingered on his lips, he couldn't help it. To the other people taking a stroll, he'd seem like a strangely happy person, he supposed. Or maybe they'd just assume he was drunk, or something.

Jaden answered, 'It's going rather well, as Uncle Fredrick and I predicted. The results even exceed our most optimistic predictions, honestly. People are far more productive when they're working for themselves and their own families, instead of giving away all the profits to some poncey lords. Who would've thought?' A note of sarcasm colored his tone.

'You want a medal for Best King of the Year, Jay? I could ask Fen to make it for you,' Noah said.

'That would be nice.'

Noah laughed, and people stared, intrigued. Noah cleared his throat and kept walking. The wind blew smooth dark hair into the corner of his eyes – made him realize he hadn't cut it in a while.

'That's great, Jay, but I was actually asking how you're doing. Not the project.'

'Oh, right. I'm good, I'm uh . . . busy but good. Yourself?'

Noah hesitated. 'I feel like that's a tough question. How am I doing? It's too . . . vague.'

'I'm rolling my eyes at the moment, just so you know.'

'Yeah,' Noah replied, 'I seem to bring that out of people.'

He reached the beginning of the happon fields, basically a vast expanse of sand with nets at intervals and painted lines that weren't really visible at night. The kids were about ten, twelve years old. When the ball came rolling up to Noah's feet, he kicked it back toward one of the smaller kids – one of the few girls playing. She shouted a thank you and skittered off to play with her friends again.

Noah smiled and resumed his walk, along the fields, where sand met cobbles.

'Seriously, how are you? Everything all right? You sound . . . I don't know.'