There is much to be thankful for, this I know. Even in these wretched wastes I find the best of people, the most winning of smiles and the most open of arms. I do not know how it was that I came to be so lucky. A roof over my head, a bed to sleep on, food to fill my belly, wine to make my eyelids heavy when I finally lay my head to pillow. I have as much as I did here, in New Cromheim, as I did when I was exiled from Kordova. More, even; the people here are permanent, like fixtures of the city. They run the grounds like blood through the veins, and the city comes alive. There is so much beauty here, so much to live for. I find myself smiling even as I heft stone and raise walls. This place is home, I feel. My heart aches less when the sun pours in through my window, waking me as early as it chooses. Though I shall never truly forget them, I call upon the bittersweet memories of my family less and less each day. It is both a blessing and a curse, to forget what my husband's laugh sounded like. To not recall my daughter's eye color straight away. I am thankful for the time I had with them, while I had it.
They are enjoying eternity together, this I know. I find peace in that, at least.
It's been nigh a moon since New Cromheim took me in. I remember stumbling into town, gasping for water, covered in blood. Mostly my own. I fell before the city's well, and when I awoke, I was laid upon a bed. There was food left for me, and water enough to quench a stable of horses. I drank it all. I ate all of the food, too. I remember laying back and tracing the prominent outline of my ribs, and turning over to do the same to my spine. My cheeks were so gaunt, then; I hardly recognized myself. I spent a few days there like that, resting, eating, and learning of who had saved me. There were a few faces that quickly became familiar to me. Though it was Erisande, the leader, that I came to know the best. She was just and kind; she asked me of myself, my beliefs, my story. I told her. She was exceedingly easy to speak to. Before I knew it, the hollowness had left my face - and my heart. I had begun to build muscle just as we built the city up from cracked walls to a force to be reckoned with. I cobbled a home together with my own two hands. It was hard work, honest and brutal, but it made me proud. It made us all proud. We run like blood through the veins of this city, pulling it together like a needle through fabric. I have the beginnings of a family once more and that is something I never wish to lose again. We grow in number with each passing day, and for that I give thanks.
I am New Cromheim. We are New Cromheim. And we shall run like blood through these wastes.
The Blood of New Cromheim
by Lyanka del Fora on May 03, 2017 at 10:54 PM}