T
he day was gentle. The sun had risen quietly in the lands of the night. In the city the birds had sung songs subdued, for even they seemed to favor rollicking lullabies over celebration of morn. Lovis rested aside the lake. His legs dangled into the cooling waters. He wondered if its waters cleaned him of the fragrances of a kingdom not his own or if it too seeped into his coat and refashioned his scent? Lovis yearned for Delumine. For home. The unfamiliar did much to free his mind, however, it did little to soothe his heart. An unsure, feeble, smile found its legs on his lips.
Outside the night market he had spent a few hours with the falling sun and a few ragtag musicians; who prepared for another night of entertaining passersby for spare coin. From a distance Lovis had listened to their songs. He had not expected them to jeeringly call him over. To ask of him what he thought. To ask him what a scholar thought of their unruly songs. They, in turn, had not expected Lovis to answer with an equally ribald tongue and to teach them a new one.
It had been a bawdy soldier's song that hadn’t touched his lips for a very long time. Even Lovis had nearly lost it to the passing of eras. He had surprised himself by remembering the words and rhythm. How they had teased him for how his face had flushed whilst teaching the song!
The market felt like a strange dream while he sat to bask in the piety of the lake. It was surreal to know that both places bore the same beasts.
He had bought some herbs from the market. They would not be as fresh as what they could have been had he tore them from the earth himself but the merchant had treated and prepared them well. In the quiet he took the herbs out so that he might bunch them together with what he had procured himself.
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