The POV of the delusional Jon...
Jon had never been more excited about a Tuesday evening in his entire life.
He was nineteen years old, a harbor worker at Hoshin Bay’s bustling docks, and he’d just spent three bronze coins he’d saved from walking ho on a bouquet of purple flowers. The sa shade as her hair.
Jon lived at the fringe of what the city folk called "The Sprawl." A sowhat deaning term for the ever-expanding settlents that had grown around Hoshin Bay over the past decades. The city itself sat behind proper walls, a thriving mariti hub that served as the heartbeat of the Shadowfell Kingdom. But as more people flooded in seeking opportunity, the barrier for residency had grown stricter.
Those who couldn’t et the requirents or couldn’t afford the fees settled outside the walls. It started first as makeshift camps, then grew to be permanent structures, and now it had eventually grown into neighborhoods in and of itself.
The Sprawl stretched for miles now, from dense outer districts just beyond the gates to sparse farmlands at the furthest edges where Jon’s family lived.
The true residents of Hoshin Bay, those who lived within its walls, used the term "Sprawl" with a certain level of smugness when referring to those in the outskirts, as if living inside the walls made them fundantally better.
But in reality, no one cared that much. The Sprawl provided most of the food Hoshin consud and even exported overseas at tis. The farms and livestock operations on those vast outer lands fed the entire region. And the Sprawl also contributed plenty of workers who had permits to co into the city for employnt.
Jon was one of those workers. His job at the harbor docks was honest work that paid decent wages. And unlike so of his peers who chose to stay in the subsidized worker housing within the city, which were basically cramped dormitories shared with dozens of other sweaty laborers for fifty bronze coins a night, Jon commuted ho daily.
He would rather earn by Hoshin Bay standards and live in the comfort of his family’s simple ho — a much cheaper and vastly more comfortable residence than what his peers had in the subsidized dormitories.
The only thing was the distance. The journey ho everyday on a beaten-down cart took about ten minutes and cost three bronze coins. If he walked, it took thirty-five minutes and cost nothing. Jon usually walked, pocketing the coins. But today was different.
Not only did he spend the three bronze for a cart trip, but he also spent a whole extra seven coins on so purple flowers he’d spotted at a shop just outside the city gates.
Because tonight, he was going to make his move.
So new neighbors had arrived about three weeks ago. They’d purchased the farmhouse and land directly adjacent to his family’s property. A plot that had sat empty for years because it was so far from everything. Jon’s family was already at the furthest fringe of the Sprawl. Past them was practically just wilderness.
The landowner, so weaselly man who worked for soone who worked for soone who eventually reported to the vassals in charge of leasing crown lands, had practically fallen over himself to complete the sale. As if the buyers might change their minds if he hesitated.
The new neighbors kept to themselves entirely. On the very first day, they’d built a high fence around their property. Proper construction, not the shoddy work most farrs put up. But after that, they beca mostly quiet.
Except for the evenings.
Every evening, from dusk until full dark, rhythmic, intense sounds of wood striking wood rang out from their property. Unmistakably the sound of combat training.
Jon’s younger brother, a mischievous seven-year-old terror nad Pip, had snuck onto their property with his gang of equally rascally village children one afternoon. The boy had co ho that evening practically vibrating with excitent, babbling about watching "sword fights" and seeing "beautiful won like angels."
Jon had believed the sword fighting part. The sounds made that obvious.
But beautiful won like angels? In the Sprawl? Please...
Not to be conceited, but Jon didn’t think any girl in the entire outer settlents could be qualified as "angelic." There were so pretty girls, sure. But most of the options were decent at best. Though many guys who’d grown up here would argue otherwise, Jon was firm in his assessnt.
Only when you went into Hoshin proper and saw the daughters of wealthy rchants or minor nobility could you find truly beautiful won. But even then, not angelic.
That was until Jon finally saw them himself.
Three won... And one man.
The first woman had silver-white hair that caught sunlight like polished tal. Tall, with a warrior’s build barely concealed by the simple farm clothes she wore. Yet sohow, her features were also soft and delicate. Her eyes held a firmness that suggested she was older and far more experienced than her youthful appearance implied.
The second girl had black hair and a youthful beauty that should have captivated him. But her gaze gave him the creeps. Those dark eyes seed to look through him, past him, into sothing he couldn’t comprehend. To make matters worse, when she walked, she moved with an eeriness that made his instincts scream warnings.
But then the third...
Purple hair. Refined poise. Calm, assessing eyes that suggested intelligence and strength in equal asure. Beautiful didn’t begin to cover it. She was the kind of woman Jon had convinced himself didn’t exist outside of legends.
An angel that had captured his heart without even knowing he existed.
And then there was the last fellow. The man at the center of it all.
Jon had never been more envious of another person in his life. Where had this guy found such beauties willing to live with him? Were they his wives? But that violated the Shadow God’s teachings on marriage. Were they perhaps followers of another God? One that permitted such... debauchery?
The thoughts had nearly driven Jon mad after that first glimpse. But after careful observation... very careful, very subtle observation... he’d convinced himself they were all siblings.
Jon had wholeheartedly embraced that conclusion despite the obvious fact that none of them looked even remotely related. But he didn’t care about logical consistency. He needed them to be siblings.
Because tonight, he was going to make his move as a man.
Jon was a catch, after all. Handso enough that girls had swooned over him since his younger years. He’d just never found anyone worthy of his attention among the Sprawl’s diocre options.
Until now.
His mother, being an extrely cordial person, had managed to befriend the newcors. Well, the won at least. The young black-haired man never interacted with anyone, staying locked in that property like so kind of hermit. But the won had proven receptive to Matilda’s friendly, neighborly talks.
And tonight, his mother was hosting them for dinner. The purple-haired angel would be sitting at their table. That’s when Jon would deploy his masterful charms. He could already imagine her unable to resist his appeal.
Who knew where things could go after that...
User Comments
0 comments from readers