A Shade of Paradise

Chapter 1: A Curious Solitude

Adriel hugged his burgundy cloak closer to his gaunt frame as a driving, piercing gale swept passed the marble terrace that overlooked the Quartermaster's Docks. The clearing was off the jagged, rocky cliff face of the walled city itself, where rows of wooden boardwalks converged, elevated from the muddy flatlands on stone piers that extended to where the broad, square hulled timber monstrosities the merchants used to haul their merchandise, were moored.

Adriel loved the tang of the salty, bitter sea air, clean and sharp as a pristine knife. At this height, he could escape the stench and squabbling of the city below and if he closed eyes, the invigorating immaculate air ruffled his gray, close cropped hair in a semblance of flying. He threw back his head and laughed as the sheer ecstasy of his blissful solitude bubbled over out of his mouth like rich, palatable champagne.

When his mirth subsided, Adriel continued his close study of Quartermaster's, reading the faces of the merchants dressed in their flammboyant apparel in a grotesquely eye retching imitation of the gentry and nobility's fashions. Vibrant colors framed by delicate lace on the cuffs of the sleeves that flared out to almost completely cover the hands made the scene of shirtless sailors, deck runts and sweating carpenters by the quayside seem appallingly out of place.

Lord Casimir shifted on the fluted terrace beside him. "I have no idea how the docks intrigue you so profoundly, but there is, I will concede certainly an aspect of humming productivity and industry. It gives off a curious sense of purity that I seldom feel below in the city."

Adriel turned to him, shifting his grey eyes, suddenly sombre, "I came here to escape what lies below. Once men learn that not even this city of elegance and innovation can change the fate of human nature is the day where I can laugh without having my mirth tainted with acridity. Not all pleasures can be satisfied in Valonost, only the ones we feel entitled to."

Lord Casimir Cashel barked a laugh that didn't quite reach his searching eyes.

I am speaking to a man whose methodical mind sees people simply as pawns, to be added up and subtracted like coins, Adriel thought. While they were pleasant acquaintances, he had to remind himself that eyes like those never made mistakes, never miscounted. Those eyes measured, tallied and weighed a person even before he shook his hand.

"Oh? You believe that there is an inherent fate that human nature entails then?" the treasurer inquired.

Adriel waved his hand in the air, where the grey gulls circled above the docksides below. "Death. All of us eventually fall into obscurity."

Adriel felt himself gravitating toward, getting inexorably closer to the topic he assumed lord Casimir desired to discuss in the open air with no prying ears to listen in on.

"Like the boy that arrived through the eastern gate this morning, some people have death's scent all over them, through misfortune or accidents. I believe it tends to make those people's lives altogether more vibrant, for there is an inherent tendency for them to strive for a better life than the one they could have had in the lukewarm semblance of normality."

Casimir looked mildly amused. "Did you prepare this just for me, or did you just wish to overwhelm me with your grand verbosity ?" "

Adriel heaved a sigh, casting an exasperated glance towards him. "Are you done with your witticisms?"

"Not quite," Casimir shot back, wagging a long finger adminishingly. "I cannot help but wonder why you draw me into these philosophical rants."

Adriel looked down at the common folk, unloading their cargo before winter's edge settled into the port. Why was he telling this to Casimir? No one had ever understood. But I need to keep trying anyway, for myself if not for them.