Author's Note: here is part two of this drabble and it is in a new perspective so the writing style will be a little different and I hope you like it. sorry if there is any major mistakes
It's a good thing the merchant is right next to where we are staying for when we need supplies or one of falls a bit ill, like Ringabel. I'm sure this remedy will do just fine but I can always get Agnés to do some white magic when they come back. Although... that will be a long time from now. Edea did say she will stop at nothing to make Agnés "the best girl compared to the other rude girls that don't even deserve a look", so they won't be back until tonight. I can imagine the back and forth bickering of: "Do it, Agnés! For Olivia!" and "Unacceptable! I mustn't!".
I somewhat hastily leave the 1,000 pg for the remedy and other supplies for Ringabel for the merchant behind the counter adorned gems head to toe with big hair to rival the loudness of the stones. This city is so different from Norende it makes my head spin. As I'm walking to the exit, I can feel the stares from other customers on me, whispering to one another. They are definitely talking about how I stick out. I can just tell. If you don't at least wear two secondary colors, then why do you even bother walking past the iron gates of the city? At least, that's how it feels. I hope stepping in short, snappy strides would make the potions I just bought clank louder so I wouldn't have to hear the whispering. I wonder if this is how Agnés feels right now.
The polished ground still feels so strange to walk on to the large fields of grass and variations of soil I grew up with. How do people not slip on the stuff? It's way too smooth for comfort. Voices of the many persons around myself are just so overwhelming that I can't seem to concentrate on what I need to think about. Lights of the city surrounds my vision, swallowing it whole. How I miss the soft echoing calls of sheep and the fireflies skipping around evenly on the pasture. I approach the steps of our temporary home and I can already feel hit in the face with floral fumes of: lavenders, vanilla, roses, and others I'm getting lost in. One scent that stands out is the delicate daisies in the wind smell light, and refreshing, just like the flowers themselves when they are growing naturally on rolling hills around my old home. Our receptionists nods at me when I walk in through the door, as I do the same, and make my way back to Ringabel.
Ringabel was not to be found in the room. There is a blank space in the middle of the litter of giant pillows we use for beds on the ground, where I put our newly bought supplies (and my utility belt). Three small windows high up cover the tops of a single wall (with thick curtains tied up on the sides) and let in plenty of sunlight to the other wise dimly lit room. Though, at night, the moon somehow perfectly aligns itself to see us in our beds. Unlike most things in this city, I actually like our room. It's the only casual thing here. My purple pillow feel like my tunic, loose, comfy, a little worn in. An embroidered blanket is thrown on top that I didn't even bother to make look all that nice. I'm just going to make it messy again soon tonight. Although, looking at everyone else's bedding, everyone is making me look like a sloppy pig.
I sigh,"Ringabel? I'm back!"
A feint yes comes from the washroom.
He'll be out here when he is ready. I guess he is fixing his hair again. Standing in the center of the room I can see a tall mirror in the middle of one wall, seeing my unkept appearance. Should I start doing something to make me look like I care? Would I look weird? Never mind that, the clothes would be really uncomfortable and not practical. Who wears a scarf when it is hot outside?* Just give me a plain shirt. My many layers in my hair don't coordinate and neither is it styled. My hair routine in the morning is waking up, and maybe brush my hair really quick if I just so happen to have a knot. Also, I'd miss out on some more sleep than I already am. Maybe I'll asked Ringabel to do it for me in my sleep. He'd probably enjoy it.
Plop! That sound is so refreshing to hear after a busy day. My hands feel so free from my thick leather gloves I wear all day that they begin drying from the thin layer of sweat they were trapped in. The feeling of cushioning absorbing you when you fall into it is only the most perfect thing. I'm not a person that fancies fancy things, but these beds are the best. They are make packed full of the most plush feathers I've ever laid on in my life.
"Hey, Ringabel! You okay? I brought some things from the merchant for your head. Hopefully it isn't too bad. We can always wait for Agnés to use some white magic when they come back." I muffled my voice into the bedding.
His voice muffled from the washroom,"I'm just fine. Just fixing my hair a bit. You know... Got to look nice."
"Mind doing mine?"
"I- Sure."
I closed my eyes to his reply. Only half of my face was sinking in my bed so I could wait for Ringabel to be done. He has to be done soon. His hair already looks just as perfect as ever. Dryness in my eyes seal my eyes shut. I'm going to stay awake. My body just feels so heavy even down to my fingertips that I feel myself going into a deep slumber. I'm going to stay up so I can sleep tonight. The muscles in my shoulders let go of themselves with each and every breath. I'm going...
...
There is an open pasture with green grass as far as the eyes can see.
A fair blue sky feels like it is painted above with gently pulled wool for clouds with it. The same gentle wool matched the sheep that littered the vast pasture behind and in front of me. To the east of me was a single, peaceful hill with a lone tree on it. The tree was nothing special in itself. Although, the simple oak tree provided the perfect shade after a long day of tending to all of the sheep on the land. Ankle tall plants were plowed through as I ran far up the hill with almost no effort. I turn behind me to a small child.
"Be careful not to fall!" A light chuckle came out afterward.
Bobbed styled light brown hair flew gently in the summer wind with a gentle laugh flying with it. He was much shorter than myself not even half of my height. Although, we had those same brown eyes that look at each other when the small boy tripped into a small patch of dandelions. I knew he was going to be alright. It was just another day here in Norende and I hope everyday would be just like this.
My footing shook to a large deep echo far beneath me. Disoriented, I look to my hands to see colors splitting apart, reds shifted left and blues shifted right. Several booms emitted from across our peaceful pasture to the horror of my younger brother, Til. That glowing smile soon turned to a frown of terror of what was happening around us. Our world separated. Each other separated. The ground crumbling into the inferno below with only our fingers locking into place. Instead of exchanging our statements of love to one another and how we would see this through alive, turned into a death sentence for only one brother. And time and time again, my small brother fell, a life taken too soon.
There was an open ocean of black.
There was nothing. I could hear nothing. I began to walk. I began to run. I began to sprint to find my beloved brother. He has to be here somewhere.
A faint figure begins to come to focus to my eyes just on the horizon. My whole body is drenched in sweat from exhausting myself for it to be even the slightest chance of them being Til. I quickly meet up with the figure to find a dressed up gentleman with a white fur collar and bright blonde styled hair. He is sitting down on the pitch black ground with only a purple bedding beside him, an embroidered blanket tossed carelessly to the side.
Not a second sooner I find myself on this oversized pillow beside him, hair being stroked my his gentle fingers. He combs through every layer, every tangle, every single drop of sweat sticking my hair to my scalp. Ringabel is doing all of this without having question. There is no words exchanged between the both of us men but the softest of smiles. All of those gentle touches help bring me to some ease. I look into his fair eyes that look gently back down at me. His eyes sparkled more than the diamond studs he always wears. Slowly he reaches his black leather covered hand to touch mine resting on my chest, and starts leaning forward. No words exchanged. No eyes looking at one another. No heart beat. Just lips meeting one another.
I awoke.
My face was no longer face down on the pillow when I fell asleep. My face was flushed pink with remains of sweat throughout my body. One of my hands remained on my chest, the other on the floor. I stare straight up at the ceiling as if it had answers about my vivid dream. What brought on such a complete turn in dreams? Sweat from my back made it is disgusting to sit up and feel the wet shirt re-hit my drying back. I need a bath for sure. It should clear the mind as well as clean me off. My boots gently make noise on the firm carpet as I approach the washroom and Ringabel swiftly exits the room. His hair looks more perfect than normal (How much time DID he spend in there and who is he impressing this time?). When I look to my immediate left into the small mirror I notice my hairs layers are perfectly following one direction. Not a hair out of place.
*this is in reference to a party chat conversation with Edea and Ringabel saying Tiz should be more fashionable. In the end, he objects to it all and questions why someone would wear a scarf in the middle of a hot day. Ringabel quickly reminds Tiz that beauty is pain.
