Ellanore bit her lip and looked at the sword in her hand. It just wouldn't cooperate with her. She was of half mind to claim the sword faulty and demand a new one. It was simply too long for her to handle comfortably. But then again, there was the possibility she simply wasn't good enough. But who ever heard of an elvaan who couldn't handle a sword in battle? She took a deep breath and concentrated. Drew a pose she thought she should know well by now, a standby pose, ready for opponents. Now, to hold it... Her teacher Mr Arandant had told her this was the best way to get in contact with her sword. If there was no contact, there was no flow. If there was no flow, she would be defeated in battle instantly.
"Hey, Ella. What on Vana'diel are you doing?" The puzzled voice broke her concentration, and she sagged, drained. She knew that voice well. It was a nuisance. And couldn't he see what she was doing?
"I am practicing my sword, naturally. Can you not see it? That I'm holding a sword?" She waved said item in front of the newcomers face. Endahren Merchell, her fiancé. He always had a habit of showing up at the worst times. They had been promised to each other since long before she could remember. She could not rememember seeing him around much when se had been but a mere child, but lately, he had been dropping by quite often. It was confusing, and more than a little embarrassing. She didn't really know how to treat him.
"Whoa, easy there! Didn't mean to offend or anything. You just looked a bit... err..." His voice faded out, probably a wise precaution. She didn't really feel like knowing what he thought she looked like. "Not that it has anything to do with me. Hold your sword whichever way you want to." Ellanore whirled around, not feeling like giving him the courtesy of being face to face with him anymore. He never understood, and always, always caught her at the worst moments. This world was not a fair place for Ellanore Delouvien. The good things and the interesting ones always seemed to happen to someone else.
"...you don't have to do this, you know." She stiffened. Now what was he going on about? "It's quite natural for you to want to learn something like swordfighting, but it's not for everyone. In this world, we all have paths we must follow. And sometimes, those paths don't coincide with what we would want ourselves. But you know..." He hesitated at that point. Ellanore was confused. What had happened to the arrogant teasing boy he usually was? She was so curious she turned halfway back to him, and even looked at him from the corner of her eye. "It'll be alright in the end. When you follow your own path, it will reward you plenty. Sometimes, all it takes is a little perspective."
She looked down at her sword, the tip now leaning on the ground. She didn't know what to feel or think about his words. "Whichever path you follow, you should know I wouldn't take it away from you. Here," Endahren said, showing her a package he had brought with him. She hadn't noticed it until now. "Came here to bring this to you, since you've been down lately and all." Ellanore, now even more confused, hesitantly took the package from him. It seemed to be something thin, for the package wasn't too thick, but it was bigger in other dimensions.
"I need to be heading back to take care of the store now. Take care." With that, Endahren made a little bow and walked away. Ellanore was left at the yard, even more confused, wondering what she was supposed to do now.
When she finally opened the package it turned out to be a beautiful circlet with turquoise decorations.
Nightingale giggled at the street performers. It was the day of the Harvest Festival. Technically, he was supposed to be with Master Peridaut, they would perform tonight and Master Peridaut was always adamant about preparations, seeing that every single little detail was in place. But he had opted to sneak out instead, to come out and play with his friends, see the amazing costumes people were wearing, just generally have fun.
It felt like it had been ages since the last festival. He loved these days, when people were cheery and out in the streets in crowds, laughing and shouting and just generally having a good time. He always got to wear nice clothes on festival days, too. In truth they were just for performing, but he thought that was such a waste. If Master Peridaut was going to pay him for a nice costume for the Harvest Festival, why should he only wear it during his performance? He wouldn't get it dirty or anything, he was always careful about things like that.
When the performance ended, Nightingale looked around. He hadn't found his friends yet, none of them had exactly been expecting for him to have any free time today. It would be a surprise, for sure. Looking around, his eyes met those of an elderly lady, sitting on a bench nearby. The woman smiled and gestured him over.
"You have such a nice costume, boy. I felt like giving you a cookie for it." She smiled and dug out a cookie from her basket. "Heading out to for trick-or-treating with your friends?"
Nightingale took the offered cookie and smiled brightly. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm actually out here for a little while only. I will be performing with my Master at the square in front of Neptune's Spire tonight, the clothes are more because of that."
"Ah, a performer, are you? What will you be doing?"
"I am a singer, ma'am." Nightingale turned to leave. He didn't have too much time to spend on stuff like this if he wanted to have time to be with his friends today. But he remembered well all Master Peridaut's teachings of always advertising yourself and your performance, for bigger crowds and more gil. He turned back and looked at the old woman. "Please give us your patronage tonight." He bowed slightly. "And thank you again for the cookie, ma'am."
The old woman chuckled at him. "My, you're a little charmer, aren't you. I'll definitely be there." Nightingale put on his best stage smile and thanked the woman. Then he left, waving to her as he went before disappearing into the crowd. That had taken up too much precious time, but he supposed it couldn't be helped.
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