Flashback In anticipation of the future, in reverence of the past

[Valo]

70th Winter 511AV 22 years old The stone Gardens Early evening, after working hours Brick laying wasn't a bad job. Dull perhaps but not bad, though it seemed his attitude had been on the verge of over-positive. Repetitive motion, the continuous tapping of brick into place. Continuous meticulous laying piece after piece, scraping of mortar. The perpetuation of the same motion. . The job in which one must switch off their brain in prevention of being overwhelmed by this repetitive motion; but truly it wasn't a bad job. Worse were often at hand. A stranger in the land of Sylira, an artist reduced to the art of laying bricks. Alas the day was drawing to a close. Though another day of this awfully dull work loomed ahead, those thoughts were now cast from his mind and another, a jubilant task was at hand. A chance to explore a little. To explore this city which he'd soon leave behind, as soon as wages granted him that liberty. A city he'd remember fondly as any other, for travelling in itself was an adventure which few could fathom. And instead of complaining about the dull nature of that job of his, he rejoiced for the luck he'd been granted at the hands of fate, for his one wish seemed closer at hand each day. Zeltiva loomed over the horizon of his timeline, day by day drawing closer. Soon this would all be but a memory, a prelude to the next chapters of his life. The thoughts of the artist wondered at such frivolous liberty that he found himself daydreaming of the future to come, failing to truly register where it was that he was heading. A look of purpose about him but the complete absence of such in the voids of his mind. Graveyards and memorials always seemed such peaceful places in the eyes of Valo. Of course he hadn't the habit of visiting frequently, but upon his exploration, had he perhaps not been so absent of mind, the artist ventured into the Stone Gardens and at once a greater aura of piece overwhelmed him. A certain division between the bustle of the city and this serenity in the stones that paved the ground beneath his feet. small stones, perking from the soil like tiny flowers and upon each one there was a name. A meticulous arrangement of then into geometry, sprawling before the artist in aesthetic perfection. Accented by patches of greenery here and there. A memorial to those fallen, a garden, but to him this was nothing else than a graveyard with no bodies. He looked to the sky, realising that no sky was in sight. Perhaps that was the one thing he really did miss, the one thing he longed for. The sky. A source of boundless artistic inspiration. That was missing however. Perhaps the price paid for such a large city was indeed the sky they lived beneath. And if so than what a small price to pay for the perpetuation of civilisation. Valo wasn't really planning to stay in this area for long, but a moment of remembrance, of reflection upon the should of those he never knew, those who joined Dira much like he would one day - or so he thought. Unaware he was, of the Sylirian burial customs, a blissful ignorance. However this sight somehow invoked a reverence within him. A magnitude of importance, conveyed by each stone in this vast sea of smooth round surfaces. A certain eerie beauty. A stillness that hung in the air. Once could never have enough peace, thus Valo lingered for just a while longer, as if drawn there by something otherworldly.