Adriel sat upright in his sturdy wooden chair. The pink Sylvari glared at the dinner he had prepared himself. He didn't know quite how long he had been transfixed by the leafy meal, or why he had suddenly lost himself in his own thought. However, it had been a recurring theme. Every night, he would make dinner for himself in the green house which stood on the edge of the Sylvan Woods, and nearly every dinner for almost a month had grabbed his at his attention in such a way that hours could slip by him without notice.
He came back to attention, pulling his glasses off in order to rub his blue eyes for just a moment. The lone candle which stood in the center of the round table cast a dim light across the room.
A Sylvan house consists of sculpted organic material making up large portions of the household. A certain seed was planted, and after years of bending branches and tentative care the architect wound up with a home of which they had crafted. Adriel's home consisted of a single round room. Although some would consider it small, he was satisfied with the way he had crafted it, as it took care of all his needs. A large round bed lay against the wall behind him, and a purple was curtain draped around the length of the bed for privacy. It lay directly opposite to the old wooden door which was the only entrance into the house. His table, which was a rather large mushroom that had grown out from the wall, lay counter to his humble kitchen that was sculpted years ago. As planned, his table, bed, and kitchen formed a large imaginary triangle in the circular room.
He sighed as he placed the glasses back on. The window next to him was the only source of sound in the house, as rain poured thick that night. Perhaps that was what made him lose track of his own consciousness? Rain had always made Adriel uneasy, and add that on to the darkness of the night, and horrible images of the undead invading his house or the intrusion of a rogue Charr with a taste for Sylvan blood flooded his mind. A life of being alone, to let your vivid imagination run wild without someone there to be your voice of reason had spelled disaster for any sort of relationship Adriel could possibly have. Social anxiety ravaged any and all communication with the wondrous walks of life Tyria had to offer.
He unbuttoned the collared shirt around his neck, letting white fabric open down to his collarbones. He gazed over to the empty chair across the table, the candle dimly flickering it's light across it, as if teasing him. The usually proper Sylvari slouched back into his chair, deciding that the modest salad that he prepared an hour ago no longer looked appetizing. Lighting struck somewhere out in the forest, flashing brilliant white light into the lonely house for but a moment, before it returned back into it's dreary self.
He grew annoyed from the constant tapping on the window as the rain bombarded his house, so he stood, the wooden chair making an unnecessarily loud noise as he did so. For a moment, he stood hunched over his table, wondering what he should do next. He could curl up in bed, and wait for the rain to pass, or he could work on one of his many unfinished poems. The heat from the candle warmed his chin as he waited.
The rain drained the energy from his body, he could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He ran his fingers through his neat, leafy hair. He decided he would make his way to the bed, the soft purple sheet called his name from behind the curtain, and the pillows sang a song of comfort only he could hear. But something happened on the way over. His legs gave out from beneath him, and he fell to the ground with a yelp, scuffing the light brown pants that he had purchased only yesterday. After a moment of shock, a loud sigh escaped his lips. He rolled onto his back, lacking the energy or the desire to pick himself up.
"Is this what I'm doing tonight?" He asked out loud, to no one in particular, "Laying on the ground?" He paused for a moment, and chuckled at himself. He did not bother moving from the floor, and relaxed as his breathing slowed.
*Tap tap tap*
He paused. For a brief moment, he could have sworn he heard a light knocking on the door over the sounds of the rain. He turned his head over to the entrance as he lay still on the ground. The three taps came again. Was it the undead? Had the Charr come to end his life? Adriel sat up, he had no means to defend himself from danger, as they don't teach you to slay mighty beasts in literature class. He stood, bare feet gripping the moist bark. Three more taps. Time was running out, Adriel had to find something, anything to defend himself. He settled on the fork that was resting on the table. He gripped it, pointing the prongs outwards, and approached the door.
He peeked out the window, but only saw rain and darkness. Was someone tricking him?
But the tapping came again, this time slightly more urgent. Instinct gave in to intuition and he pulled the door open with a loud creak. Cold wind blew into the house and large globs of rain sprinkled his body. He peered outwards, covering his face from the rain with his hand. He only saw the dark forest swaying and bending in the storm, leaves drooping from the weight of the water. He felt a tug at his pants and jumped, taking a few quick steps back.
Standing just outside, drenched in water, stood a rather small, shivering Asura. Her black hair matted down to her forehead and her ponytail hung heavily. Her large green eyes looked up at him.
The small Asura spoke, her meek voice almost drowned out by the sound of the rain. "May I please come inside?"
