[Homecoming - Part Three]
It was only a brief stopover, but there were some things that simply had to be attended to whenever passing through Gridania. Â Fortunately, Miounne is a woman who is all warmth and welcome when one does not owe her money. Â That made this trip significantly less stressful than others. Â The exchange of warm smiles was enough for pleasantries with her old employer. Â She could not help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips as she stepped down the steps to exit the Canopy. Â Gridania had become an altogether more welcome place, something to which she owed one Monsieur Otto Vann, and a handful of retired Wood Wailers.
She adjusted the bag she carried over her shoulder. Â The long coat that adorned her lent an oppressive heat to the moment, despite hanging open in the sun of an autumn morning. Â Preparing to travel through Coerthas was never easy, and it meant a coat to awkward to carry even on a sunny day. Â Stepping toward the Old Town she mentally reviewed her to-do-list: visit the designer Yoyomundi, check in for her overnight stay at Lea's, and pay a quick visit to the Sleeping Boar and the Rabbit Hole. Â For a moment she felt aghast at the tediousness of it all. Â
There was a near collision as she stopped cold in her tracks, completely oblivious to the weekday foot traffic moving all about her. Â She looked up, her free hand shielding her eyes from the rays of sunlight that managed their way past the overarching canopy of of buildings and trees. Â She took in a slow, deep breath of the crisp autumn air. Â She closed her eyes in appreciation.
This was the scent of freedom. Â The taste of liberty. Â Visiting friends was no hardship. She opened her eyes, adjusted her pack, and hurried on her way with smile restored.
"Oh, Aya dear, yes he is back in the gardens. Â He will be so pleased to see you." Â The matronly Elezen offered a warm if sympathetic smile that Aya returned with eagerness. Â
Madame Delannoy was the heiress of storied heritage, and the misfortunate employer of one Silas Greenthumb, a gardener. Â And it was he that Aya had come to see.
She strode slowly out the open doors and through a cozy wood portico into the garden. Â The sound of her heels against the board flooring was unmistakable, and amidst the uneven rows of shrubbery and plants, showing only the first sign of fall's tinge, a squat, hunched figure perked up.
Silas was the latest, and last, of a long and storied line of gardeners. Â They had served the Delannoy's since his ancestor had first ploughed and contoured the plot of land into the finest garden in Gridania. Â It had been renown for its sense of intimacy with nature, and the glorious palette of its spring-time hues. Â But somewhere along the line the family talent had petered out, and although Silas was as much part of Madame Delannoy's inheritance as the manor itself, the garden had suffered for it.
The hunched-gardener looked about, eyes narrowed in the squint of the hopelessly myopic. Â He couldn't see her, or at least could not quite make her out, but he already knew his guest. Â "Flower girl!" he called out with child-like excitement. Â "Flower girl, I'd know you anywhere!"
She could not help but grin. Â There was something about the fellow that always made her smile. Â "Oh Silas, it is me!" she let out an excited laugh.
He moved with a fitful little start, working his way to one of the cobbled paths that wound its way through the lawn and garden that were his charge. Â The ornamental plants never bloomed with the radiant plumage of generations past. Â The hedge-trims were largely neat, but lacked the remarkable natural feel that the Madame remembered from her childhood. Â But, there was one phenomenal thing Silas achieved every year. Â From spring through autumn the garden was blessed with a sweet, complex perfume of varied fragrance that ever varied but never waned until the winter frosts first struck. Â
This fragrant bouquet Aya absorbed with a happy sigh, meeting the giddy little gardener upon his path. Â
"You've brought me some flowers I hope?" He asked with an irrepressible anticipation.
Aya laughed, drawing her bangs back with a free hand. Â A little motion that escaped the fellows near-useless vision. Â "Silas," she said with playful disappointment as her hand came to rest on a cocked hip. Â "You know that I only worked that job for a week, and that was cycles ago now." Â The gardener grinned with a nod. Â He could not see her smile, but he could hear it, despite her best effort to obscure it. Â "But!" he insisted irresistibly, "you're still the 'Flower Girl'!"
She laughed along with him, opening the small package of flowers she was carrying and offering them to him. Â They were just what he wanted. In fact, he had just ordered them. Â Aya, as she always did, had stopped by her former employer, offering to make the next delivery for them. Â They gladly obliged.
Silas poked his face over the bag, stubby fingers pulling it open while she held it toward him. Â "Perfect! Â Just perfect! Â You always bring the best, Flower Girl!" he laughed excitedly while accepting the package. Â He unceremoniously plopped it on the ground by the path, "I really cannot thank you enough...!"
She interrupted him, retrieving in an unseen flourish a small box from her purse. Â "And...". Â He fell silent, useless eyes opened wide in surprise as he stared at the unexpected object.
"What is...?" he began to ask as she abruptly flipped the lid open. Â A tinkling tune began to play, while the figure of a dancing girl made a slow pirouetting circle atop. Â It was another of Verad's Dubious oddities, finding new life with the help of deft fingers and a little ingenuity.
Silas' wide eyes were joined by a mouth opened wider with delightful surprise. Â He stammered for a moment, "But - But Flower Girl w - why? Â Is this - is this for me?"
Her voice flowed in reply like the sweet current of a summer stream, "It is yours, my friend. Â A gift to a most loyal customer, and a fine friend." Â
He embraced it suddenly, pulling the still playing music-box tight to his chest. Â "It sings!" he shouted in happiness. Â
She laughed, "It does..!"
He did not know the dancing figure was meant to remind him of her. Â He didn't know anything about her except that she always brought flowers, and somehow - somehow always made him feel better than he had before she'd been there. Â
"Tell me about what you've got planted right now..." she asked softly, gently nudging him back into the garden that was his life's work...
Madame Delannoy personally opened the front door for Aya as she left. Â "I thank you." she said, with a bow far more humble than Aya deserved. Â "You are welcome. Â And: Merci, Madame. Â Thank you." Â She bowed her head deeply, hand held to her chest in a sign of gratitude. The Mistress knew exactly what the young woman meant. Â They exchanged smiles one more time, and then she stepped out into the evening cold.
Aya knew this road all too well. Â The sun was already rising late this time of year, leaving a short day for the walk to Fallgourd Float. Â It had been many moons since her last time upon the path, but she remembered it like the patrols were yesterday. Â Airship service to Ishgard had already been renewed, and she could have saved herself a wealth of trouble by using it. Â But something about that just wouldn't be right. Â
There were too many steps to retrace. Â Too many memories to relive. Â The greatest trial of her life to see again with fresh eyes. Â The miracle of her survival to appreciate. Â The charity that had been her savior to repay.
She adjusted her coat, and embraced the chill. Â She flexed her grip around the spear that completed her guise as an adventurer. Â She took in the scent of the wood, and the sound of the breeze rustling dry leaves. Â Tonight she would sleep in the all-too-familiar quarters of Fallgourd Float's inn. Â
And tomorrow--tomorrow she would return to Coerthas and its frozen expanse. Â She would be well on her way home.