TimeStamp: Fall Day 68, 512
Walking into her home Syrah spotted a letter on the floor. The postman must have come and gone while she was out at work. Stooping down Syrah snatched the parchment and threw it on the table. She already knew who it was from. No one else but her father sent her letters, and this would only be the second one from him since she arrived in Riverfall. Syrah took her time before she opened it. She just got back from work, she was tired and ragged.
Slipping out of her shoes and clothes she let down her hair from its bun. She grabbed her robe, trying it around her waist and sighed as the smooth fabric hugged her worn body. She need a trip to the hot springs, that would do her some good in the future. She also needed to go shopping, as she looked around her basically empty apartment. But that would have to come later, right now she sat down in her simple wooden chair and flipped over the upside-down envelope that sat on her small table.
On the front that paper wrote her name in her fathers messy, but formal writing with her apartment number and city. In the upper right left hand corner held her fathers name and the address of her home, her fathers mansion. The envelope was crinkled and dirty, having crossed seas and vast expanses on land, she could expect no less. Taking her sharpest fingernail she ripped the letter open from the top, straight along its crease and pulled out one thin piece of paper.
A short letter is all she expected and peering at the writing a chuckled as she saw her father had tried to make his writing as net as possible. Mother must had been standing over his shoulder then entire time. Sadie was the only one so fussy about hand-writing. Syrah scanned the paper, it began and ended just as the last one did: Dearest Syrah...-...With much love, my favorite grape. She began to read from the beginning.
Her mother was worried? Syrah scoffed. The only time her mother had ever been worried about her was before she learned about vinting. She had been a mother, a real mother, before father taught her his skill. there must be another reason for this letter. Syrah read on.
Syrah sighed, the reason she had only told him that she got the job was to avoid this very question. Did her father really think she was that talented? Of course, when she came here Syrah had the same delusion as her father, but the second she laid eyes on Black she knew her place. Apparently her father had forgotten what Jonathon Black was really like. All those years away from him must have deluded him memory and boosted his pride. She would have to tell him that, yes, she was just a simple worker, like the rest of them, like Dead Steele was when he first got here as well.
And along with her confession of being a regular worker she would have to send wine. She knew though, when her father said send me some, he meant said me one bottle of the best. There was no way Syrah would be able to get a hold of Godspirit, her father would have to do with second best. But she was happy to see that his vineyards had not suffered as badly as the Bluevein did. It would be an excellent tale to tell her father of discovering a new grape. Maybe that story would let him forgive her of being a simple farm-hand.
If only her father new the truth. He was right though, these men were tricky and Syrah had to watch her breath when she recalled her close encounter with one big blue boy that wanted to take her prisoner. Of course there were some nice men, like her friend Rykanis, but even he wanted to take her to bed. It was funny, though, how her father always came back her her success, her job. Even on a totally unrelated topic, thats where it ended up. I'll try to not let you down, Father, Syrah whispered to herself.
And that was the end. Syrah gripped the table. She knew her mother wasn't worried about her, this is what she really wanted to tell her. It was never about Syrah, it was always about Gris in Sadies mind. But even now, Syrah couldn't find herself mad at her mother. The truth was she always loved her brother. He was always so kind to her, she just always knew daddy liked her better.
But Gris, her brother, was having a child. Syrah was going to be an aunt. Something about this stirred an emotion in her heart. She never liked children, that was true, but Riverfall had changed her. And eve though she cringes at thinking of having a child of her own, having a niece or nephew sounded like music to her ears.
Her father assured her not to come, but did mention the baby would arrive in early Spring. She would have to go. Go to see the baby. Syrah had only met her sister-in-law one time, at Gris and her wedding, she would have to see her again.
So it was planned. Syrah would need to get off work. She would need to save money to go in the Spring. So many details needed planning. Syrah was almost excited to go on a trip...Maybe Lewis would like to come?
Slipping out of her shoes and clothes she let down her hair from its bun. She grabbed her robe, trying it around her waist and sighed as the smooth fabric hugged her worn body. She need a trip to the hot springs, that would do her some good in the future. She also needed to go shopping, as she looked around her basically empty apartment. But that would have to come later, right now she sat down in her simple wooden chair and flipped over the upside-down envelope that sat on her small table.
On the front that paper wrote her name in her fathers messy, but formal writing with her apartment number and city. In the upper right left hand corner held her fathers name and the address of her home, her fathers mansion. The envelope was crinkled and dirty, having crossed seas and vast expanses on land, she could expect no less. Taking her sharpest fingernail she ripped the letter open from the top, straight along its crease and pulled out one thin piece of paper.
A short letter is all she expected and peering at the writing a chuckled as she saw her father had tried to make his writing as net as possible. Mother must had been standing over his shoulder then entire time. Sadie was the only one so fussy about hand-writing. Syrah scanned the paper, it began and ended just as the last one did: Dearest Syrah...-...With much love, my favorite grape. She began to read from the beginning.
Dearest Syrah;
I hope all is going well in Riverfall. Your mother and I have not heard from you in a while and she has begun to worry. I try to consul her, I am sure you are doing splendid. Unfortunately she requested I write this letter.
Her mother was worried? Syrah scoffed. The only time her mother had ever been worried about her was before she learned about vinting. She had been a mother, a real mother, before father taught her his skill. there must be another reason for this letter. Syrah read on.
Last time you wrote you did not tell much, only that you received a job at the Bluevein. I am delighted to hear this. Did you tell Jonathan you are my daughter? How high of a position did you gain? I’m sure, being my daughter and naturally talented, he would give you a job no lower than that of a simple worker. You deserve so much more of course.
Syrah sighed, the reason she had only told him that she got the job was to avoid this very question. Did her father really think she was that talented? Of course, when she came here Syrah had the same delusion as her father, but the second she laid eyes on Black she knew her place. Apparently her father had forgotten what Jonathon Black was really like. All those years away from him must have deluded him memory and boosted his pride. She would have to tell him that, yes, she was just a simple worker, like the rest of them, like Dead Steele was when he first got here as well.
The Djed Storm went over well here in Syliras, did it affect the vines much over there? Our grapes were only slightly affected, killed off, but other than that small loss my company is fine. I’ve heard that there was much destruction over in Riverfall, but with all those huge men I’m sure it has all been cleaned up swiftly. How is your harvest? I assume wine has already been made? You must send me some, I do love Riverfall wine.
And along with her confession of being a regular worker she would have to send wine. She knew though, when her father said send me some, he meant said me one bottle of the best. There was no way Syrah would be able to get a hold of Godspirit, her father would have to do with second best. But she was happy to see that his vineyards had not suffered as badly as the Bluevein did. It would be an excellent tale to tell her father of discovering a new grape. Maybe that story would let him forgive her of being a simple farm-hand.
Oh, but do be careful of those men. My time over there revealed how they treat women. I was positive you would not get yourself into any trouble and end up a whore, but those blue men are tricky. You have better, more important things to do than have children. You are at the prime of your life, your job. I expect nothing less than success. You won’t let me down, I know.
If only her father new the truth. He was right though, these men were tricky and Syrah had to watch her breath when she recalled her close encounter with one big blue boy that wanted to take her prisoner. Of course there were some nice men, like her friend Rykanis, but even he wanted to take her to bed. It was funny, though, how her father always came back her her success, her job. Even on a totally unrelated topic, thats where it ended up. I'll try to not let you down, Father, Syrah whispered to herself.
Other than this your mother wishes me to tell you that your sister-in-law is pregnant. Yes, she is very excited to become a grandmother. I do not see what she sees in this, so much happiness is going to leave their life. Not like they have much now, being poor and Gris and his wife both working, when we all know a wife should stay at home. Like your own mother. The baby is due early Spring, around the time they got married. It is no special occasion. Springtime is an important time for grapes, better to stay and take care of them.
With much love, my favorite grape.
-Dean Steele
And that was the end. Syrah gripped the table. She knew her mother wasn't worried about her, this is what she really wanted to tell her. It was never about Syrah, it was always about Gris in Sadies mind. But even now, Syrah couldn't find herself mad at her mother. The truth was she always loved her brother. He was always so kind to her, she just always knew daddy liked her better.
But Gris, her brother, was having a child. Syrah was going to be an aunt. Something about this stirred an emotion in her heart. She never liked children, that was true, but Riverfall had changed her. And eve though she cringes at thinking of having a child of her own, having a niece or nephew sounded like music to her ears.
Her father assured her not to come, but did mention the baby would arrive in early Spring. She would have to go. Go to see the baby. Syrah had only met her sister-in-law one time, at Gris and her wedding, she would have to see her again.
So it was planned. Syrah would need to get off work. She would need to save money to go in the Spring. So many details needed planning. Syrah was almost excited to go on a trip...Maybe Lewis would like to come?
