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    1. Benedict 3 yrs ago

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43rd

Ezner was exhausted.

He was slumping along the stone streets of Rharne's Earth District, barely able to lift his feet from the ground. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since he'd been released from the safe house as a freeman. He thought sleep would come easy, it always came easy when he was a slave. But every night he was visited by terrors. He'd wake up in his house that was far too big, far too empty, drenched in sweat with a scream echoing back at him from the walls.

The house and his freedom, both gifts from Faith. But he was struggling to deal with both of them. Faith, in her extreme generosity, had given him a property fit for someone well above his station, and the station above that. And it was all... somehow... his? Ezner didn't know what to do with such a large property.

He had begun forming a habit, several habits.

Each morning, after he'd been woken by his own screams and sweat, he would get out of bed. He would remove his sheets, carrying them out of the open door of his bedroom. He'd walk down the hall, glad that the coldest trials of winter were gone, and the wooden floorboards weren't quite so biting. Ezner certainly didn't love the cold, doubly so when walking through this giant house naked. He'd walked past the other rooms to the only staircase, and down them he descended. He'd walked out through the common room, hung the sheets on a line in the back yard to dry, then returned to the common room to work out.

After that came a breakfast cooked in a kitchen far too big for him, at a table meant for at least eight and not one. At some point, Ezner would slam down his fork into his plate if only to break up the deafening silence. He cleaned his dishes, cleaned all the surfaces, then returned to his bedroom to get dressed. Once dressed, he was out the door to greet the rising sun.

He walked down the road of the Earth Quarter to his job. He had been given a job at a local smithy, not as an apprentice but an entry level position. Most of his duties involved shoveling coal and charcoal, as well as hauling heavy loads of raw copper, zinc, tin, and iron all through the workshop. It was a long, exhausting trial, and now as Ezner's feet carried him home through the dark evening, his body was on the verge of completely collapsing.

Still, it was better than having to fight and hurt others. It was an honest trial's labor and it helped to strengthen his body. Maybe he could get promoted to apprentice one trial, if he worked hard enough. It was still crisp out, but no longer cold. Ezner wrapped his cloak tighter around his shoulders as the wind shuddered past him. He just wanted to get home, eat some bread and cheese, bathe, and go to bed. And do it all again tomorrow.

Up ahead, he saw a light on someone's porch. People were beginning to spend the evenings outside as the weather improved. It wasn't for Ezner, but still, part of him liked to see people like this. They were happy. It was good that someone could be. He found himself wondering if he was unhappy as a slave. Less happy than he was now? He still wasn't even sure what happy meant.

He had very few good memories to his name. Being freed by Faith, the time his mother gave him an extra apple, meeting... His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets and his tired feet stopped him dead in his tracks. He saw the raven hair, the pale skin, the deep cerulean eyes, reading by lantern light.

"Elisabeth?"
The lips on his cheek set them ablaze, the blush invading his skin like wildfire. He cast a side eyed glance at her, another shiver racing through him. He was smiling again now, one she would've never seen on him before. It was boyish, softly curved, a slight biting of the inside of his bottom lip. His throat was tightened again, his heart racing once more, and he still wasn't sure why. But he knew it was because of her.

Whatever she was doing to him, he was loving it, even if it was strange and confusing.

He watched with studious eyes as she showed him the proper way to hold the pencil, but all he could hear was his heart beating in his ears. And, for some reason, he wished to smell her hair. He knew what it smelled like, oranges and lavender, but in this moment he wished to know it again. He looked to his right, hoping she was still close but she had just pulled away, leaving him with the smallest look of longing before it faded back into studious.

Turning back to the paper, he focused. She wanted him to write something. He didn't know anything beyond his memorization of a few signs he'd seen. He put his fingers around the pencil in the way she'd shown him. It felt.. awkward. His fingers weren't relaxed, forming an almost sort of claw around the utensil. But he could see the tip of it better at this angle.

And so he started to draw the sign he memorized. It was slow, Ezner was working against the flow, not having practiced the letters yet, so it was really more of a drawing than writing. A few haggard loops, some unsteady swirls, shaky peaks and valleys that eventually formed two words.

Sarah's Silks

Those two words were both a pleasant reminder of a lovely day the two had spent together, but also as a hidden compliment. Ezner had discovered beauty that day, seeing Elisabeth in that dress. It was a favorite memory of his, one he'd cherish for the rest of his days. He didn't speak after writing those two words, letting them speak for him, for he wasn't sure what his tongue might say.

He looked at their names. His name. The first time he'd ever seen it before. And in that moment, he knew his first words. Elisabeth and Ezner. He smiled as he looked at them, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two. He memorized every line, every curve, of both names. And when she handed him the pencil, he took it gently, his hand shaking. His hands were growing sweaty as he lowered the pencil down to the paper.

Ezner didn't really know how to begin, so he did his best to try and draw the letters, starting from left to write. He held a fist around the entire length of the pencil, moving his head a bit to the side so that he could see what he was writing beneath the fist. He had been paying so much attention to what Elisabeth had been writing, he hadn't thought to see how she wrote it. His fist slowly dragged the pencil tip across the paper, forming rough, jagged lines. The frustration was mounting on his face, because even though he was doing it slowly, carefully, it still looked almost nothing like what Elisabeth had written. It was crooked, in several places. It was about five times the size of what she'd written.

But still, he managed two somewhat replicate their names on the paper. And when he held it up, he could sort of see the similarities in what she wrote and what he had written. And he smiled. He was reading. He smiled at her, "We already are."

Then looking back at the paper, "So what letters are all these? There's the adult E's, the child B."
Ezner nodded, listening carefully to every word she shared with him. Surely there was a reason why those letters were made that way, right? Everything had a reason or purpose, at least everything that was made. The only accidents were those that occurred when people connected with on another. Him meeting Elisabeth had been an accident, the best of them. At her teaching him the difference between big and small letters, he nodded. It was like she had said how there were multiple Ezners, multiple Elisabeths. Everyone had different versions of themselves, and it seemed letters were no different.

"Yes, I do remember it now. Do the big and small letters sound the same?"

And when he felt her lips against his forehead, a spark ran through his body. He somehow managed to simultaneously relax and shudder from a chill all at the same time. She then caught his eyes with hers as she caressed his cheek. He was entranced, thinking absolutely nothing, just experiencing that cerulean gaze and the remnants of that bolt of electricity that had surged through him.

He looked at all the letters, trying to remember all the ones he had seen. There had been so many. He would need to practice more, he thought. When she spoke, he smiled, looking back up at her coyly, "You're a teacher right now."

And when she nudged him, he smiled more. "How do you spell our names? I've never seen my name before. My mother always spoke it to me. She said it differently from me, but I think that was just her accent."

Then growing somber, thinking. He gently plucked the sheet of paper, looking at all the letters. "Do you think our names start with E because our lives were going to be just as hard as that letter?"
With her help, Ezner was gently lowered down upon a log. He let out an exhale of relief, taking a few extra moments to take in some breaths. She showed him the letter B on a piece of parchment and he smiled nervously. "Is it important that these three letters look so similar?" He let her work, focusing on this task at hand, forgetting about the disgruntlement he previously had about being tended to. It was important he learn to read, and he wanted to do it right.

"Does B change as much as E? I don't really understand E. If it has all those different sounds, why don't they just make new letters for them instead?"

He tried to think back to some signs he'd seen that had this letter. He knew the names of the places because he'd been told them. They had gone to... Mrs. Wick's Furrier. That one had an F in it. Mr. Wick's Cobbler. Then Ezner cocked his head, because he remembered having studied the sign. "Is there a B in 'Mr. Wick's Cobbler'? It sounds like a B but none of these look like the letters from the sign." He continued to think on this letter. The dress shop was Sarah's Silks. Then he remembered another, a tavern Mr. Dey liked to go to.

"The Butcher's Block has two Bs in it." Then he smiled broadly, and with the mirth of a child having a discovery, "Elisabeth has a B in it!"

Once Elisabeth was done wrapping up his torso, he looked up at her, smiling, "Thank you. Shouldn't hurt to breathe in a few trials or so." Then he chuckled, "Breathe."

Then he decided to just press onward, "So you said there were twenty four letters. What are all of them? Could you show me? I enjoy looking at signs now, but I only know the three."

Not only was he taking it seriously, but he seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes had a look in them, one she'd seen a glimmer of the trial he'd been so tired and grouchy. It had shown up when he was playing their little streets game. "When did you learn to read? Who taught you?"

Then he remembered something recently, "I was in the Order several trials back, a couple trials after I showed up at your door that one time." He paused, giving them both a moment. It had been an important moment for him, comforting her that way. Plus he got to clean her dishes without her admonishing him. "My shoulder was really hurting, I was peeing blood, and having dizzy spells again. Anyways, I shared a room with a woman. She tried to let me borrow a book of hers. She was very friendly, lots of curly read hair."

Then he grew a bit somber, "I didn't like telling her that I couldn't borrow her book. But I hated telling her that I couldn't read."
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