[Appartement Sunset Quarters]Home is where you can afford it

[Therizo Tafos]

Winter 2nd, 513AV - Afternoon The wooden door creaked obnoxiously as Therizo pressed upon the knob and pushed it open, letting out the stale air that filled the room beyond. “This was not what you had in mind, was it father?” he asked near mockingly as they stepped inside the small, dank chamber that was to be their new residence. It was a far cry from what they were used to back on Blackrock. Black mold was sprouting in each of the four corners already gray with grime, and was already beginning to creep its way on to the ceiling and towards the cold stone floor which was itself layered with a thick blanket of dust that flew into the air each time their tired feet disturbed its long undisturbed slumber. Mathiatias looked at Therizo with empty eyes and merely shrugged a resigned shrug, stepping slowly towards the worn bed by the south wall. The bed creaked as he sat, just as the door had and as the cabinets would, were they fortunate enough to have any; though looking around Therizo would have counted himself fortunate enough if he were able to spot a second bed. No such luck, he though as he turned around to get the chests that they had left in the hallway. The wood that the chests were made of accounted for the bulk of their weight, and as he positioned them by the gray, empty wall that faced the entrance, it made for a striking contrast. The clean, polished beige of the containers clashed horribly with the surroundings, and served as a reminder of what they had left behind. And for what? The spurious wish of a stubborn widower? Therizo glanced at his father who was now lying on his side, his face turned away towards the wall. He had little sympathy for him at that moment. It was, after all, his fault that they were now stuck here. His fault for being a hypocrite who could not practiced what he professed to be his conviction, his fault for stubbornly insisting that they leave Blackrock, and his fault for carelessly losing the Ashl that he got from selling their house behind Therizo’s back. Therizo shook his head. Even with all that, he did not feel comfortable detesting his father. He knelt beside his chest and raised open its heavy lid. The only thing inside, beside the coat that he had put there in the morning, and two drying buns of bread, was the cane sword that his arms master had given him as a parting gift. ”You might need it out there, and it’s conspicuous enough.” he remembered the man saying as he gave him three strong pats on the back and handed him what, at the time, seemed like nothing more than a black walking cane that an old man might use to ease his stepping. Therizo felt himself already missing the man and the lessons that he gave. ”Don’t hit my sword boy, hit me!” he smiled for a moment in reminiscence, before putting on the coat and grabbing the sword, then, adorned and armed, turned to exit the apartment.