Daylight was withdrawing beyond the forests around Lordaeron and the citizens headed towards their homes on the streets outside Ethrias Diskenth’s office. The elf himself was still busily at work: he was leaned over his desk in a manner that most outsiders would have likely found either uncomfortable or at the very least odd, long ears quivering as testament to his excitement as his finger raced along the lines of a parchment. He mumbled words of a dead language that belonged to one of the ancient races that had undoubtedly also crafted some of the various statues and artifacts littered around the room, beneath leaning bookshelves full of tomes depicting events from times long since gone.
He sat down, dipped the quill lying on his desk in ink and began to jot down his notes regarding the text. The stub of a candle lighting his desk died out just as he finished his thought – only then he realised sun had already set and what he’d mistaken for the evening glow was lanterns lit on the street. He reached for the chain of a silver, expensive looking pocket watch and drew it out from under a scattered pile of paper. He pushed his glasses up from his nose and dangled the watch in front of him. The small window of his allowed just enough nightly light through to see the hour.
“Goodness, look at the time. Suppose the rest can wait for tomorrow,” he muttered. He picked his overcoat hung on the back of the chair, gathered the nearest documents he deemed would still need a review tonight and carefully treaded out, doing his best to avoid knocking down any of the many decorations left around in an all too neglecting manner considering their archeological worth. He searched his pockets for a quaintly large iron key and locked the door.
Winter was approaching, he could feel its first chill in the air and the darkness of the night surrounding the glowing aura of the lanterns overhead as he walked down the street towards his home. He could see it in the far end of the street, there was no light in the bedroom window.
He snuck in as quietly as he could to avoid waking his wife and grimaced as the old staircase let out a faint creek. He peered into the bedroom and whispered the name “Helia” so quietly that even if she was still awake, she could’ve mistaken it for nothing but a breath. When the only response he could hear was nothing but soft snoozing, he returned downstairs, this time reaching over the noisy step.
He made himself a mug of tea, reading a book he’d brought with him, one containing various notes regarding his research he’d made that day. Holding the teamug in one hand, a lit candle in the other and balancing the book against his arm he made his way to the living room, where he placed the mug and the candle on a stand by its side and snuggled himself under the blanket laid on the chair’s armrest.
He sipped his tea and leafed through the pages when he was suddenly startled by the creeking stairs. Helianthus’ figure descended on the edge of the candle’s flare.
“Aren’t you coming to bed soon?” she said, underlining the words with a yawn of her own. She sat on his lap and brought her hands to his face and turned his head around, pretending to examine it as intently as he often did when someone brought anything old and dusty to him. “Mm. This looks quite old. I would say it’s from the era when husbands were tired and their wives were waiting for them to sleep by their side.”
Ethrias chuckled, slid her to his side in the big chair and wrapped his arm around her.
“I always look tired these days. Ah, but my face needn’t be beautiful anymore, I already caught you, didn’t I?
She laughed. Her laughter was contagious, he couldn’t help to at least smile when he heard the melodious sound of her joy. She kissed him on his cheek, beneath the ear. He put the book down and placed the freed hand on her stomach.
“Soon I’ll have another beauty to gloat with. Then I won’t have to sleep at all and people will still envy the fairness of our house.”
She stood and took his hand and said, “But until then you will have to be good and at least occasionally shut your eyes,” then dragged him upstairs.
To Be Continued...
Interpreted and Written by Ville Meriläinen.
