Chapter Text
Ryder stared at the softly lit purple haze before them.
Lavender Groves. Well, in their opinion, violet groves would seem more fit, it’s more bright purple than lavender, with the trees dotted with firefly-like haze. Perhaps it was named after its lavender mist.
It’s a beautiful grove, really. Straight out of a fantasy novel. Rumors even say that the inhabitants can use magic. That’d be cool.
A step forward. They still have a chance to turn back. Dense trees and denser colors would make anyone’s eyes sorely relaxed. They feel dizzy at the saturated hues.
Ryder takes out a coin and tosses it. There are other landmarks for them to visit. They’ve been yearning to adventure up the Blighted Mountains for so long. Maybe they shouldn’t venture into such an unknown territory as an amateur adventurer.
Tails. Huh.
Guess fate decided for them to move forward and in.
Surely nothing bad will happen. All they got to do is to try not to die. There’s nothing worse than them dying.
So they took a deep breath, tightened their hands around their backpack straps, and headed in without looking back.
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The sound of flipping papers. Two full stacks. Aina’s quite proud of what she’s managed to accomplish this year. Even with no one caring to read them, her ideas being carefully thrown out on fruit parchment – all she can afford – is more than enough to her.
She’d love to see her plays being actually visually staged, though, but sometimes one’s got to use their imagination. Aina isn’t a stranger to imagination, Azure has told her she stays longer in there than in real life.
“Oh- sorry.”
Ah yes, speaking of staying in her imagination, she almost ran into Eliot Sterling.
“No no, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He looked the same as always. Mop of brown hair, square glasses sit in front of his darker brown eyes. It’s weird seeing him in a formal ultramarine gown, though. The material sure looks expensive.
Then she realized. What she did run into though, is his drink.
“Sorry.” He said again. Before Aina could say anything, she saw her light green dress lift up slightly, and drops of the hard-to-wash petal nectar peeled away from the dress and fused into the air in front of them, before plopping back into Eliot’s drink.
Aina stared in awe and confusion. “… I thought your magical property was time rewind.”
Eliot blinked. “Oh. Maybe I have multiple properties, then.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Sure, then.”
He turned on his heel and walked away when Aina was just about to respond. Well, he sure is a lot more… grumpy? Than he usually is. Perhaps he’s in a bad mood today. It’s a weird day to be in a bad mood though, wouldn’t one normally celebrate on their graduation?
She’s heard before that people of outside the grove usually travel somewhere far after they graduate to go to… what was it called, university? She’s not sure why they even do that, what’s there more to learn? The outside world is probably a lot more big and complicated, then.
It’s kind of hard to imagine. She already can barely keep up with the content she’s learning. Why is mist-clinging so difficult?
Once she got back to her glade, she carefully sets her scripts on her study log. She’ll rest for a bit, then go visit her parents’ glades. Maybe bring a script or two, they’ve always been quite supportive of her.
If possible, her first dream was to set up a personal stage on the main fields. Watch her lovely handiwork she crafted with blood sweat and tears light up and play before everyone’s eyes.
No one will watch them anyway. No one is ever interested in her plays. Sometimes she wonders what’s the point of even writing any, if they were all to be forgotten into the rivers as soon as she passes. She spent all this time crafting worlds, it’d be nice to have someone joining her in there, give her a chance. Her second dream is to have someone that will care.
Those are pipe dreams, sure, but they are dreams nonetheless.