Here's a piece that I wrote to instigate a potential reunion between Nemean and Delphine. The two were a couple before I paused him. We'll still have to see if this arch will have a future or not. You enjoy this one anyway though!
Distant but Home
The horse had carried him from Perdan city. Towards the mountains, he had repeated in his head over and over again. Castle Ubent could never be seen but he knew it lay just beyond the peaks. Rows of jagged rock that defied the very clouds themselves as they made their own bid for the heavens above. It frightened him. He knew why he wanted to go to Mulhouse. Yet, every opportunity that had presented itself for him to delay or dally he had taken. He readjusted the shroud of Leandra that he had picked up at the splendid temple of the Silver Lady in Perdan city. Wearing it he felt like some misplaced ancient hero wearing a toga. He snorted at the thought. He was no hero nor did he posses any of their gravitas.
It had provided him with ample excuses to make stops along the way though. Offering kind words to those in need. Providing alms. Inspecting shrines and making a handful of blessings as he had passed by the Temple in Brive. Him, blessing people. He snorted again after which he shook his head.
There wasn't much further to go now though. The mountains had risen before him. At their feet the seemingly endless forests of Mulhouse blanketed the land. Like a great fussy collar on a shirt, in green. He imagined the mountains belonging to a giant's face that looked up. The spell didn't last as he saw the landscape. The tiny waterfalls that surged in autumn. The flocks of birds and the animals. He even spotted a herd of deer. He knew a moment of concern. His destination had been a vineyard. Deer could wreak havoc upon a vineyard. The sensation passed swiftly though. Surely she would've had measures in place to ward against these creatures. He nudged his horse to continue on their way.
A low rise emerged above the canopy. A foothill more prominent than the surrounding ones. On one side he saw how a mountain brook joined its sisters, together they formed a perennial stream that flowed past the base of the hill. Riding under the oaks he felt protected from vision even if he wasn't. Birds chirped quietly while squirrels labored enormously to store seeds and nuts. One of them interrupted its works to gaze down on the passing rider, before it skipped away.
Rows of carefully maintained vines came into view. A low stone wall made of field stone lined either side of the main path. A truly ancient oak stood sentinel somewhere halfway up the path. A fat red squirrel lounged on one of its upper limbs. The tree more than providing for its well-being. Looking up Nemean smiled. His eyes looked around the vineyard. ''Hope you're taking as good care of her as you are of Mr Squirrel there.'' The sabel horse snorted a response. He couldn't tell if it was derision or assent.
Moments later he arrived at the vineyard complex itself. buildings arranged practically yet with such grace. It seemed as if it had always been there. Part of the landscape, part of the hill. A young man came out of one of the barns. Slightly surprised but deft enough to approach the newcomer. Nemean dismounted fluently. Taking the reins in hand before offering them to the young man. ''Is the Mistress home? I am Nemean.'' Announcing himself made him a tad self aware. ''She, probably isn't expecting me.'' He left it at that while he removed his hazel brown leather gloves and tucked them into his belt.
