When he first met the new farmer, he did not think much of her.
People, in Gray's opinion, were best characterized by seasons. In the tiny community that was Mineral Town he could easily put all the girls neat and tidy into a single category of the four.
The nurse Elli was the winter: graceful, calm, collected. She was the warmth of a fireplace in a log cabin but also demonstrating in her professionalism, the detached frigidity of the vast frozen plains of snow.
Ann, the barmaid at his inn, was undoubtedly an early spring. Her father worried for her what with her tomboyish behaviour. She was the kind not afraid to get her hands a little dirty: she was the mud after the snowmelt, unfeminine. Though also nurturing, bringing the potential of flowers and growth just below the surface.
Summers were the most annoying. They were loud and vibrant, confident to a fault and lacking forethought. This would be the general store owner's daughter Karen, and the poultry girl Popuri.
What he truly loved though was that rare personality- the fall. He was enraptured by its calm, and found it personified in the object of his infatuation. Mary.
To him there was nothing more beautiful than the somber wistfulness of autumn. Nothing more pure and real than its deep set pang of longing. Where the air, aged after the spring and summer of its youth, is held still in quiet reverie. The birds leave, the bugs slowly die out and that little pocket of the world is left silent. The land relaxes and allows itself to follow suit. It takes its last aged breath in recollection, showing in one last instant, its beauty in a burst of warm and vivid colours before the frost overtakes it.
Its very essence had the same feel as the library the young raven managed. Where the old pages of books crinkled as they turned like crunchy leaves under foot. Where the air remained stagnant and full of promises and memories of stories once read, adventures once travelled and lives once lived.
She was an aspiring writer, and he'd shamefully admit to spending nearly as much time watching her scribble away at her desk from the corner of his eye as he spent reading. She seemed so wise, so calm, so different.
She never looked his way though. Too wrapped up in fantasies to embrace the present. She was much more interested in creating love on paper, of dreaming of it rather than experiencing it firsthand.
So he pined unrequitedly, sure his eyes would never waver.
He waited, and waited. Someday she'd be ready.
Every day for him was work then off to the library. The blacksmith apprentice rarely registered the other things going on around him. Then again, not much ever happened. The village hardly ever changed anyway. That was until the farmer showed up.
He was about to leave work when she first introduced herself.
He immediately chalked her up to be a spring. Unlike Ann though, she was simply the aspect of new, if she were a character in a novel, he'd say she was underdeveloped. She was just too fresh faced, too optimistic. There was a naivety and eagerness that immediately irked him. At first glance, she lacked the depth that Mary had. She smiled like the first rays of sun though winter clouds. It was seemingly dim and ingenuine. Not warm enough to rival summer. Not serene enough for autumn. He went on his way after their encounter, not even bothering to remember her name.
Two seasons passed by without him seeing much of her. She wasn't really a reader it seemed, so there wasn't much overlap in their schedules. She had however, gained an interest in mining. She would often spend an hour here and there talking with his grandfather while he was in the backroom. He wouldn't have been surprised if she got invited to dinner more often than he did.
It was in the very early fall that he was made aware of his misjudgment. She had once again come to upgrade her hammer. To gold this time. His grandfather called him from the back, ordering he accompany her for the material search. Colour tinted her cheeks as she protested. Gray just sighed unhappily, knowing this would put him into working well after hours.
They moved briskly at a pace he set, passing under rows of browned and yellowed tree canopies. She was much shorter though and struggled to keep up. Her footsteps were apparent in their hurry with the whoosh of the leaves she kicked up.
Her breath picked up until finally, "Wait! Gray! Please!" She gasped. He paused and she caught up. Laughter was heard up ahead momentarily diverting both of their attention. Popuri giggled as Ann cracked a joke. Karen walked with them with an amused smile. They passed by so caught up in their gaiety the two onlookers were not noticed.
He made a couple steps to continue on, quickly finding that the farmer was not following. He wheeled back in annoyance. Her back was turned to him, still watching the departing girls.
"Hey." He called in irritation.
It was as she slowly turned back that the wind picked up, racing along the concrete, uplifting the fallen leaves. She braced herself, holding her arms in front of her eyes to avoid being pelted by the litter as they suddenly all blew upwards. She removed the arms from her face as they all slowly spiraled back down, in circles around her form.
Her blue eyes met his for the first time since their meeting and his breath hitched.
She was different. Having spent less than a year in town, she looked adjusted, matured. Past the instability of the new and now more tranquil.
It was the first time in his life he had been so enraptured, unable to pry his eyes from her. She seemed so… lonely as she stood there on her own. His heart nearly wretched out of his chest at the solemnity her tired eyes carried.
Even after she gave him a sad smile, and apologized for the hold up. He was still routed in place, slack-jawed. When function sluggishly returned to him. He desperately searched his brain. Claire, yes her name was Claire.
From routine, he continued visiting the library after their short trip to the mines – but it was like everything had changed in that single moment. Mary now, was lacking. The things he once admired about her now just seemed so artificial. Her experiences that made her an old soul, worldly and yet exotic were all second hand from the books she read. As she wrote frantically on her novel, as her brow scrunched in sympathy with the character's plight – It lacked truth and depth. Her expressions were fabricated emotions she herself had never experienced. So wrapped up was she in her fantasies, she probably never would.
She was not really all that was autumn, he realized. The colours of her emotions were not vivid enough. Forever locked up within the small book-filled floors, she had not yet experienced enough to hold the sheer life he had seen in that instant embodied in Claire. She was the autumn after the leaves had already fallen and browned, no longer carrying the life of its own. She was the yearning for more and the sorrow of lost opportunities she had not yet even noticed she missed.
From that day for the rest of the week, his thoughts drifted contemplatively to the blonde woman. Who was she truly? He had never even bothered to find out. What was the cause of her melancholy?
He soon had the opportunity to find out. She was back again. This time to upgrade her axe. He escorted her more willingly this time. Even slowing at one point to match her stride. She noticed this change too, staring at him in awe.
He couldn't help but look back. Admiring how her blue eyes peered from behind her straw coloured hair. She was not good with eye contact though and quickly looked away.
The first time they had mined together, he was still in a state of awe. She had followed him in wordlessly and allowed him to do the work. This time he handed her the shovel with a half-smile. She beamed and his heart filled.
The season carried forward and she had more tools to upgrade. They continued their trips. Once she watched in admiration as he showed her how to find black grass within the caves. He ripped a small piece of the vine and handed it to her. She took it tentatively and nibbled. Her face scrunched up in horror at the taste and he burst out laughing. She tried to stay mad but wound up laughing as well.
On the next trip, she had brought two eggs from her farm, showing him in excitement how the hot springs outside the caves could instantly boil them. She gave him one and they ate. He admitted that they tasted much better than black grass, earning him a grin.
Surely but slowly, he was falling. She was so much more than he had initially judged her to be. She was quiet and calm yet also lively. Where Mary was the longing and recollection, Claire was much more Earthy. She was the joy he used to get jumping in freshly rakes leaf piles as a kid, she was the warm vivid colours of the foliage, the reds, yellows and crispy oranges. Her eyes strikingly blue as they were, were like the almost cyan water of the Goddess pond, whose colour popped amongst the fall setting.
It was nearing the very end of fall when she came in for her last tool. Her watering can. He did not even pause to wonder why she needed it upgraded so urgently when she had just finished her big harvest the day before. He merely grabbed for his tools in excitement and they headed off.
"Gray." She said.
He glanced at her.
"After… uh. After this do you want to have a picnic?" She asked nervously.
She justified that the weather was nice and that it surely wouldn't be for much longer. She made no pause to allow him to respond, anxiously filling in the silence. He stopped her as she was about to admit it was probably a silly idea in the first place by agreeing.
She smiled brightly.
They sat under one of the last cluster of trees to have not already lost all their leaves. Stubbornly denying winter's gradual embrace.
It was there as they spoke and laughed that he admitted to her in a moment he deemed in good timing and appropriate context that she reminded him on the fall. She of course had no way of knowing this statement's significance. All at once her smile dropped and she looked away.
"What's wrong?" He had asked her.
"You're not the first person to say that… I was born in the fall actually. Everyone always responds, 'oh you strike me as an autumn baby!' though." She looked at him with a sad smile. "Am I that gloomy?"
He was flabbergasted. "You… don't like the fall?" He asked.
"Why would I? It's all about ends, and death. Everywhere you look things are dying. It's the lead up, the anticipation of winter." She explained. "I tried to be better." She whispered so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
"What?" He had asked.
"I told myself when I came here that I'd reinvent myself. Better myself." She explained, "I tried to be more outgoing, I tried to smile at everyone. I tried to be brighter… Like a summer, or a spring. At first it was easy but I guess it slowly slipped and here I am again." She hugged her knees. "Once again I didn't make friends with the other girls."
He could only stare in wonder. She really thought that that shallow puppet she tried to be in the first week was better than who she was now? She really could not see how beautiful she was? He wanted so badly to tell her she was wrong, that she was perfect but as always, when it came to vocalizing thoughts he struggled to find the right words.
Their picnic being done she began to pack up. He couldn't leave it like this. He grabbed her hand and she looked to him in shock as he pulled her away from the basket. "Gray? What-?"
"You said it yourself, fall is almost over. Let's enjoy it." He said honestly.
He began to kick the leaf litter together and with the thick sheets on the forest floor, the pile was enormous in seconds.
"You're not really going to jump in that are you?" She asked, trying not to laugh.
"Nope." He said. Then turned to her, "You are." With unusual forwardness her picked her up and she screeched in glee despite herself.
"Oh my gosh!" What are you-"
PLOOMF!
He dropped her in the leaves, they billowed out from her impact. She was laughing but trying her best to looked unamused. As that was not working, she picked up a pile of leaves and threw them at him. But not being as compact as snow, the wad fell apart seconds after it left her hands. Then, with her unfortunate timing, the wind blew it all right back into her. He laughed.
She pouted as she marched back to him in defeat but blushed as he tenderly removed a leaf from her hair, amusing him with how her skin was now almost a matching red.
"I think autumn is beautiful." He said, spurred on by the moment.
Claire was at a loss for words and he pulled his cap down to hide his own heated face.
He looked up and she followed his gazed. He could hear her breath catch as she eyed the sight. The late day sun shone through the golden leaves up above, twinkling through as they gently swayed. She breathed in the dry air and listened to their chorus of ruffles.
Eyes wet, she didn't tear away her gaze as she agreed, "Maybe.. it is…beautiful." A soft smile played on her lips and he found himself reaching out his hand to give hers a tight squeeze.
"You are." He agreed.