Amaryllis Laid Citadel [Revised 8/27]

A marble wall as far as the eye can see, stepping over the wide river we were using for direction, towering watchtowers standing near the city edge with mage’s towers soaring over them.

The arched gate delicately carved and etched with the history of this monument, guards with domesticated giants patrolling around. Travelers, visitors, and citizens returning home alike, waiting in a line to have their identities checked before entering.

That was the first sight I saw, after being forcefully brought out from my sleep, then thrown off my companion’s horse. But after two weeks of travel, and a fight for me and her lifes, we had finally arrived at the city of Citra.

We waited in line, shifting forward every few minutes as the people in front entered. Her eyes were shimmering, shining more as we stepped closer to the city gate, like when she left Malitic all those days ago.

As the last person ahead of us crossed through, two iron-reinforced gates were the only obstacle left. We showed our guild medal, the giants waited for the guards’ approval before pushing open the gates.

The grandeur of Citra unfolded before us, the imposing Ivory Castle stood tall atop a small hill off in the distance, its marble walls reflecting the sun’s blinding rays. A cobblestone paved street stretched out in front of us to a market circle and a flower garden off to the side. Well-kept ferns lined the pathway, guiding those walking through.

Quaint shops and houses formed around streets, boxes of flowers hanging on their window frames. We walked along, taking in its grace and beauty before finding a stablemaster for Caramel, registering it with the caretakers, and sending it off.

With my companion’s only responsibility now gone, she grabbed my arm and pulled me off to let her excitement for exploration loose before I could have a couple words with Caramel. Its sigh could be heard as we sped away.

Stepping over a stone bridge crossing the river, the hill under the castle was looming from our left, a paved dirt road leading to its gate with knights in white blocking the path up.

The sun shifted, casting an immense shadow over us from a grand wooden library built in an upside-down ‘T’ shape. We stopped for a moment to admire its sheer size before passing it with a turn, reaching back to the market circle from the start.

Following the cobble path, letting it guide our steps, we were led to a garden hugging the eastern wall. Small ponds were dotted all over the center with ducks being fed, flower patches surrounding them, with gardeners tending and arranging.

Mothers held onto their children, telling them to be careful around the planted flowers, not to break their pots or crush them or the Souri would take them away before letting them roam free.

A narrow teahouse sat between the city wall and a fountain park at the end of the garden. Checker tiles made up the few steps of stairs, leading to a cherry wood door under a green roof, decorated with an amaryllis packed wreath.

A bell chimed as we opened and walked in, flute music filled the small teahouse creating a welcoming ambiance. We were led to a window side table and handed a menu, the mahogany chairs gave off the scent of chestnut oil.

We sat and the fountain out the window stole my eyes, watching water cycle through over and over under a cloudless perfect summer afternoon, turbulent yet tranquil. Her hand raised to order a cup of tea, and a moment later the waiter returned along with a complimentary plate of cake.

“Do you want this? You haven’t ordered anything.”

Sliding the plate over with a smile, elbows on the table with hands supporting her face, awaiting my reaction upon tasting it.

Her expression resurfaced a buried memory. This has happened before, hasn’t it? Everything about this scene before me was familiar, everything but her eyes. Not as if they were different, but that I couldn’t fully remember.

Another bell chimed and the door opened. Her robe’s end fluttered in the gust of wind being blown in. A sense of yearning overwhelmed.

“Are you not going to eat it?”

Her words bridged my thoughts and reality, for a second I felt that my mind was organized, but then my confusion just furthered.

“I am, I was just…”

“Lost in thoughts again, is there really that much to think? Go give it a taste, or it’s going to get stale.”

Cutting a small piece off with the side of my fork and giving it a try. It was soft, with berries to top off and a floral aftertaste, but aside from that, it was pretty average.

She didn’t look too pleased with my lack of reaction. Putting down her hands, brows turned into a slight frown, and she leaned closer to get my genuine answer.

“Is it not good?

“It’s, alright… I think.”

Still not satisfied with my answer. Holding her expression and might have even slightly furthered her frowning.

“You can try it for yourself, it is yours after all.”

“Really!? You can try my tea as well then.”

Pushing her cup closer and dragging the plate in, giving the cake a bite, examining its flavor before turning her eyes over back to me, waiting for me to have a sip.

Putting the cup to my lips, my eyes widened, opening a window to the soul, like going through a trance as a warmth washed over. Not from the tea itself, it was a warmth of affection. One I felt a few weeks ago and promptly forgot yet again, or pushed aside, not knowing how to handle it.

Didn’t I have the same feeling just this dawn as well? It always feels so different when she is around, I feel a lot more… and those dreams, I still can’t remember them a while after waking up but they felt…

“See! The tea’s good isn’t it?”

“It’s…”

Then the flavor hit, the tea was horrible at best. It was more like a few dribbles of tea on a cup of milk with a pound of sugar.

“ba… It’s pleasant.”

Another bell chimed and we walked out the teahouse. She strolled around the fountain with me following behind, her pacing slowed from the afternoon snack. Seeing her figure from afar reminded me of someone, someone I couldn’t name nor even conjure their face in my mind, but it fueled that warmth within.

We turned a corner, a thud sounded and she fell backwards, followed by a heavy book hitting solid ground from the other side.