29th of Fall, 512 A.V.
The Farson Home for Orphans
Early Afternoon
Arianthe never felt quite so at ease and so in control of her emotions as when she visited the orphanage. It was as though it was a reminder to her that there was good on Mizahar, and that she was an adult - she couldn't be vulnerable all the time. There were so many lost children in the world and she felt an affinity with them.
Arianthe was a regular visitor to the Orphanage. When her Husband died, swiftly followed by her Father, after paying their debts, she found herself with a limited fortune of four thousand gold mizas, but refused to touch the vast majority which had belonged to her husband. Instead, she gave it to the orphanage, a donation which allowed them to repair part of the roof in drastic need of it and buy clothes for some of the orphans. For her, it allowed her to think that she had done some good and left her uncontaminated by the money, much of which, she knew, had been gained through violence and dealing in shady practices. She would read or tell stories to some of the children, or help put the smaller ones to bed, or to an afternoon nap.
This afternoon, she had just finished telling Lunik, a small blonde girl - a tiny thing of nine years old, a story about the Chaktawe people and a handsome explorer, and was sitting on the windowsill looking out at the docks.
She had her blank book open and had just scribbled something rapidly.
"Take a moment, if you please,
To observe a new born infant child -
Sleeping, never the wiser, to us -
And do not note that half a curl
Or tiny hands as perfect as porcelain
And make you could weep.
Fine bone china fingers and delicate blue eyelids
Like the petals of a forget-me-not.
Instead, perhaps you could see
And wonder at the way the babe sleeps,
Hands up in surrender,
On either side of its head
Begging with a thief in the night."
Only, she thought, that was exactly how little children slept, with their hands up on either side of their head. The observation was just.
