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6/29/2025, 5:52:37 PM
“You’re making this sound like a nice, relaxing holiday,” you point out, “But let’s be realistic, we both know that it won’t end that way.”
“It might!” Elle insists, an unusually stubborn tone entering her voice.
“It might, but it won’t. How about this, why don’t we make it a bet?” you continue, “If we go, and we DON’T have to go about digging up graves or crawling through some miserable catacombs, I’ll…”
Your voice trails off here as you try to think of some suitable consequence – nothing too annoying or inconvenient, naturally.
“I’ll graciously concede that you were correct,” you finish, rather weakly, “How does that sound?”
“Hmm…” Elle takes her time to think it over, “Fine, I’ll take that bet. Does that mean you were planning on coming with me?”
You shrug. “I suppose it does. It might be nice to get some time away, just the two of us,” you suggest, “I can’t imagine Ariel would be very interested, and it would be too much hassle to try and make arrangements with anyone else, so-”
“Great!” Elle leaps to her feet, “I’ll go and pack some things, then we can leave tomorrow morning!”
Well, you did want a distraction.
-
“What’s that?” Elle asks, leaning over to peer at the dark sketches filling up the notebook laid before you. You start to self-consciously close the notebook, then relent and show her your amateurish sketches. Elle takes the book and studies it for a long moment, her silent broken only by the faint clatter of the train’s engine. “Okay, I admit defeat,” she admits at last, “What is it?”
“A little engineering project, though I am in no way an engineer,” you explain, “I’ve been thinking about that awful black sludge at the bottom of the Demesne. What if it continued to fill up the place? It could bar our passage completely, and then we’d really be in trouble. With enough ropes and pulleys I’m sure you could work up something, but… well, I’ll admit, I’m out of my depths.”
“Hm,” Elle murmurs, “I can think of someone who might relish that challenge, but-”
“But I’d rather take my chances with the effluvium.”
Elle giggles, handing you back the sketchpad and leaning back to look out the window. The Silvera lands feel completely disconnected from everything you’ve known in recent days. The sun shines brightly, and the air carries a scent of flowers. Even the settlements you pass look clean and pretty, without the smoke of heavy industry to blacken the skies. You allow yourself to wonder what your life might have been like if you’d grown up here, instead of your ancestral lands. It’s hard to imagine what kind of man you’d become. A man like Cato, perhaps.
It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Cato. Maybe you should try and visit him while you’re here, especially if the church business ends up being more boring than you’re expecting.
[1]
“It might!” Elle insists, an unusually stubborn tone entering her voice.
“It might, but it won’t. How about this, why don’t we make it a bet?” you continue, “If we go, and we DON’T have to go about digging up graves or crawling through some miserable catacombs, I’ll…”
Your voice trails off here as you try to think of some suitable consequence – nothing too annoying or inconvenient, naturally.
“I’ll graciously concede that you were correct,” you finish, rather weakly, “How does that sound?”
“Hmm…” Elle takes her time to think it over, “Fine, I’ll take that bet. Does that mean you were planning on coming with me?”
You shrug. “I suppose it does. It might be nice to get some time away, just the two of us,” you suggest, “I can’t imagine Ariel would be very interested, and it would be too much hassle to try and make arrangements with anyone else, so-”
“Great!” Elle leaps to her feet, “I’ll go and pack some things, then we can leave tomorrow morning!”
Well, you did want a distraction.
-
“What’s that?” Elle asks, leaning over to peer at the dark sketches filling up the notebook laid before you. You start to self-consciously close the notebook, then relent and show her your amateurish sketches. Elle takes the book and studies it for a long moment, her silent broken only by the faint clatter of the train’s engine. “Okay, I admit defeat,” she admits at last, “What is it?”
“A little engineering project, though I am in no way an engineer,” you explain, “I’ve been thinking about that awful black sludge at the bottom of the Demesne. What if it continued to fill up the place? It could bar our passage completely, and then we’d really be in trouble. With enough ropes and pulleys I’m sure you could work up something, but… well, I’ll admit, I’m out of my depths.”
“Hm,” Elle murmurs, “I can think of someone who might relish that challenge, but-”
“But I’d rather take my chances with the effluvium.”
Elle giggles, handing you back the sketchpad and leaning back to look out the window. The Silvera lands feel completely disconnected from everything you’ve known in recent days. The sun shines brightly, and the air carries a scent of flowers. Even the settlements you pass look clean and pretty, without the smoke of heavy industry to blacken the skies. You allow yourself to wonder what your life might have been like if you’d grown up here, instead of your ancestral lands. It’s hard to imagine what kind of man you’d become. A man like Cato, perhaps.
It’s been a long time since you’ve seen Cato. Maybe you should try and visit him while you’re here, especially if the church business ends up being more boring than you’re expecting.
[1]
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