50th of Spring
Semele Park
Early evening
Semele Park
Early evening
He wandered aimlessly, not particular enthused by the sprightly buds. Thomas had never particular been interested in nature, not that he'd ever given it much of a chance. Syliras hadn't been exactly a wilderness survival camp; he was almost sure the first time he'd seen anything green had been on his twelveth birthday, when his mother decided it would be nice to try a picnic. He'd been stung by a bee, and his sister was discovered to be highly allergic to some kind of sap she'd touched on a tree. Mura had been perhaps more natural, but his years there had been spent in magical training. Sahova, had of course been Sahova. It wasn't uncommon for him to go a season without seeing the sun.
Riverfall, he suspected would be different. He'd stumbled upon a few parks exploring the city -- he would need a place to stay, eventually, but he'd like this one -- Semele Park, they called it. The name sounded vaguely familiar; someone he should know, although why anyone from Riverfall would have become renowned anywhere else escaped him. He'd only found the name on the boat ride over.
He sighed, a hand reaching up to rub his neck. Once, not so long ago, he'd worn his show of status there. A golem, gold and ornate. And now, exiled from the place he never once considered home, but full of opportunity, he had nothing. Thomas wondered if he would ever earn the place of favor in Mashaen's eyes again.
"What am I doing?"
